ch.nativetongue-第81章

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　〃Yeah。　Soon　as　it　stops；　I'll　take　you　out　and　kill　you。〃
　Pedro　Luz　stripped　off　his　shirt　and　began　to　work　out　with　a　pair　of　heavy　dumbbells；　he　couldn't　take　his　eyes　off　his　own　glorious　biceps。　The　syncopation　of　Pedro's　breathing　and　pumping　put　Joe　Winder　to　sleep。　When　he　awoke　much　later；　still　on　the　floor；　he　saw　that　Pedro　Luz　had　put　on　a　fresh　uniform。　The　security　man　rose　unsteadily　and　reached　for　the　crutch；　his　hands　trembled　and　his　eyelids　were　mottled　and　puffy。
　〃The　parade　starts　soon；〃　he　said。　〃Everyone　in　the　park　goes　to　watch…that's　when　you're　gonna　break　into　the　ticket　office　to　rip　off　the　cashboxes。〃
　〃And　you're　going　to　catch　me　in　the　act；　and　shoot　me。〃
　〃Yeah；〃　Pedro　Luz　wheezed；　〃in　the　back。〃
　〃Pretty　sloppy。　The　cops'll　have　plenty　of　questions。〃
　〃I'm　still　thinking　it　through。〃　His　head　lolled　and　he　shut　his　eyes。　Joe　Winder　sprang　for　the　door　and　regretted　it　instantly。　Pedro　Luz　was　on　him　like　a　mad　bear；　he　grabbed　Winder　at　the　base　of　the　neck　and　hurled　him　backward　into　the　stock　shelves。
　〃And　that　was　one…handed；〃　Pedro　Luz　bragged。　〃How　much　do　you　weigh？〃
　Winder　answered；　with　a　groan；　〃One　seventy…five。〃
　The　security　man　beamed。　〃Light　as　a　feather。　No　problem。〃
　〃I'd　like　to　speak　with　your　boss　one　more　time。〃
　〃No　way。〃　Pedro　Luz　hoisted　Winder　from　a　tangle　of　intravenous　tubes　and　set　him　down　in　a　bare　corner。　He　said；　〃Remember；　I　still　got　that　gun　you　were　carrying…I　figure　that's　my　throwdown。　The　story　is；　I　had　to　shoot　you　because　of　the　gun。〃
　Winder　nodded。　〃I'm　assuming　there'll　be　no　witnesses。〃
　〃Course　not。　They'll　all　be　at　the　parade。〃
　〃What　about　the　rain；　Pedro？　What　if　the　parade's　washed　out？〃
　〃It's　August；　asshole。　The　rain　don't　last　long。〃　Pedro　Luz　hammered　the　heel　of　his　hand　against　the　side　of　his　skull；　as　if　trying　to　knock　a　wasp　out　of　his　ear。　〃God；　it's　loud　in　here。〃
　〃I　don't　mean　to　nag；〃　Joe　Winder　said；　〃but　you　ought　to　lay　off　the　steroids。〃
　〃Don't　start　with　me！〃　Pedro　Luz　cracked　the　door　and　poked　his　head　out。　〃See；　it's　stopped　already。　Just　a　drizzle。〃　He　gripped　Joe　Winder　by　the　shoulder。　〃Let's　go；　smartass。〃
　But　Winder　could　barely　walk　for　the　pain。　Outside；　under　a　low　muddy　sky；　the　tourists　rushed　excitedly　toward　Kingsbury　Lane；　where　a　band　had　begun　to　play。　Pedro　Luz　marched　Winder　against　the　flow　of　yammering；　gummy…faced　children　and　their　anxious；　umbrella…wielding　parents。　The　ticket　office　was　on　the　other　side　of　the　park；　a　long　hike；　and　Joe　Winder　had　planned　to　use　the　time　to　devise　a　plan　for　escape。　Instead　his　thoughts　meandered　inanely；　he　noticed；　for　example；　what　a　high　percentage　of　the　Amazing　Kingdom's　tourists　were　clinically　overweight。　Was　this　a　valid　cross…section　of　American　society？　Or　did　fat　people　travel　to　Florida　more　frequently　than　thin　people？　Three　times　Winder　slowed　to　ponder　the　riddle；　and　three　times　Pedro　Luz　thwacked　the　back　of　his　legs　with　the　dreaded　crutch。　No　one　stopped　to　interfere；　most　likely　they　assumed　that　Winder　was　a　purse　snatcher　or　some　other　troublemaker　being　rousted　by　Security。
　Eventually　the　crowds　thinned　and　the　light　rain　stopped。　The　two　men　were　alone；　crossing　the　walkway　that　spanned　the　dolphin　tank。　The　swim…along　attraction　had　closed　early　because　the　trainers　were　needed　at　the　parade；　in　case　the　lion　got　testy。　Joe　Winder　heard　a　burst　of　applause　across　the　amusement　park…fireworks　blossoming　over　Kingsbury　Lane。　The　pageant　had　begun！
　Winder　thought　of　Carrie　Lanier；　and　hoped　she　had　the　good　sense　not　to　e　looking　for　him。　He　felt　Pedro　Luz's　crutch　jab　him　between　the　shoulder　blades。　〃Hold　it；〃　the　security　man　manded。
　A　hoary　figure　appeared　at　the　end　of　the　walkway　ahead　of　them。　It　was　a　tall　man　carrying　two　red　containers。
　〃Now　what？〃　said　Pedro　Luz。
　Joe　Winder's　heart　sank。　Skink　didn't　see　them。　He　went　down　two　nights　of　stairs　and　stacked　the　gas　cans　on　the　back　of　a　Cushman　motor　cart。　He　ran　back　up　the　steps；　disappeared　through　an　unmarked　door　near　the　Rare　Animal　Pavilion　and　quickly　emerged　with　two　more　cans　of　gasoline。
　〃The　Catabs；〃　Pedro　Luz　said；　mainly　to　himself。
　Joe　Winder　heard　him　unsnap　the　holster。　He　turned　and　told　Pedro　Luz　not　to　do　anything　crazy。
　〃Shut　up；　smartass。〃
　As　they　watched　Skink　load　the　second　pair　of　cans　onto　the　Cushman；　Winder　realized　his　own　mistake：　he　had　tried　too　hard　to　be　reasonable　and　civilized　and　possibly　even　clever。　Such　efforts　were　wasted　on　men　such　as　Francis　X。　Kingsbury。　Skink　had　the　right　idea。
　Pedro　Luz　aimed　his　。45　and　shouted；　〃Freeze　right　there！〃　Skink　stopped　at　the　top　of　the　steps。　Pedro　Luz　ordered　him　to　raise　his　hands；　but　Skink　acted　as　if　he　didn't　hear。
　〃Don't　I　know　you？〃　Skink　said；　ing　closer。
　Pedro　Luz　found　it　difficult　to　look　directly　at　the　bearded　stranger　because　one　of　the　man's　eyeballs　seemed　dislodged　from　the　socket。　As　Skink　approached；　he　gave　no　indication　of　recognizing　Joe　Winder。
　〃Hello；　gentlemen；〃　he　said。　Casually　he　bent　to　examine　the　taped　stump　of　Pedro　Luz's　leg。　〃Son；　you're　dropping　more　parts　than　a　Ford　Pinto。〃
　Flustered；　Pedro　Luz　fell　back　on　standard　hardass…cop　colloquy：　〃Lemme　see　some　ID。〃
　Skink　reached　into　the　blaze…orange　weather　suit　and　came　out　with　a　small　kitchen　jar。　He　handed　it　to　the　security　man　and　said；　〃I　believe　this　belongs　to　you。〃
　Pedro　Luz　felt　his　stomach　quake。　At　the　bottom　of　the　jar；　drifting　in　pickle　juice；　was　the　tip　of　his　right　index　finger。　It　looked　like　a　cube　of　pink　tofu。
　〃The　old　woman　bit　it　off；〃　Skink　reminded　him；　〃while　you　were　beating　her　up。〃
　Beautiful；　Joe　Winder　thought。　We're　both　going　to　die　long　horrible　deaths。
　Hoarsely；　Pedro　Luz　said；　〃Who　the　hell　are　you？〃
　Skink　gestured　at　the　soiled　bandages　around　his　chest。　〃I'm　the　one　you　shot　at　the　trailer！〃
　All　three　of　them　jumped　as　a　Roman　candle　exploded　high　over　KingsBury　Lane。　A　band　was　playing　the　theme　from　2001：　A　Space　Odyssey。　It　sounded　dreadful。
　In　the　tank　below；　Dickie　the　Dolphin　rolled　twice　and　shot　a　light　spray　of　water　from　his　blowhole。　A　few　drops　sprinkled　the　barrel　of　Pedro　Luz's　gun；　and　he　wiped　it　nervously　on　the　front　of　his　trousers。　The　circuits　of　his　brain　were　being　badly　overloaded；　assimilating　new　information　had　bee　a　struggle…the　drugs；　the　finger　in　the　jar；　the　one…eyed　stoner　with　the　gas　cans；　the　fireworks；　the　god…awful　music。　It　was　time　to　kill　these　sorry　bastards　and　go　to　the　gym。
　〃Who　first？〃　he　asked。　〃Who　wants　it　first？〃
　Joe　Winder　saw　no　evidence　of　urgency　in　Skink's　demeanor；　so　he　took　it　upon　himself　to　ram　an　elbow　into　the　soft　declivity　beneath　Pedro　Luz's　breastbone。　Winder　was　stunned　to　see　the　bodybuilder　go　down；　and　idiotically　he　leapt　upon　him　to　finish　the　job。　Winder's　punching　ability　was　hampered　by　the　searing　pain　in　his　rib　cage；　and　though　Pedro　Luz　was　gagging　and　drooling　and　gulping　to　catch　his　wind；　it　was　a　relatively　simple　exercise　to　lock　his　arms　around　all　hundred　and　seventy…five　pounds　of　Joe　Winder　and　squeeze　the　breath　out　of　him。　The　last　thing　Winder　heard；　before　blacking　out；　was　a　splash　in　the　tank　below。
　He　hoped　like　hell　it　was　the　pistol。
　
　Marine　biologists　debate　the　relative　intelligence　of　the　Atlantic　bottle…nosed　dolphin；　but　it　is　generally　accepted　that　the　graceful　mammal　is　extremely　smart；　that　it　is　able　to　municate　using　sophisticated　underwater　sonics；　that　it　sometimes　appears　capable　of　emotions；　including　grief　and　joy。　Noting　that　the　dolphin's　brain　is　proportionally　larger　and　more　fully　developed　than　that　of　human　beings；　some　experts　contend　that　the　animals　are　operating　in　a　superior　cognitive　realm　that　we　simply　cannot　prehend。
　A　more　skeptical　view　（and　one　endorsed　by　Joe　Winder）　is　that　dolphins　probably　aren't　quite　as　smart　as　tourist　lore　suggests。　Otherwise　why　would　they　allow　themselves　to　be　so　easily　captured；　subjugated；　trained　and　put　on　public　display？　It　seemed　to　Winder　that　somersaulting　through　hula　hoops　in　exchange　for　a　handful　of　sardines　was　not　proof　of　high　intellect。　Given　fins　and　some　Milk…Bones；　your　average　French