ch.nakedcamethemanatee-第16节

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o　to　Hell。〃
　
　Thousands　of　people　holding　VIP　invitations　to　the　grand　opening　of　a　new　nightclub　named　Hell　were　frenzied；　screaming；　begging；　crying；　rushing　the　velvet　ropes。　Hundreds　of　oversteroided　bouncers　held　them　back。　Dash　and　Britt　got　out　of　the　limo　to　the　cry　of　〃Dash！　Dash！〃　Cameras　flashed。　The　crowd　parted；　like　the　Red　Sea　for　Moses。　The　velvet　ropes　lowered　and　they　walked　up　the　red　carpet　into　Hell。
　Britt　felt　the　darkness　devour；　the　heat　hit；　the　beat　throb。　Fog　filled　the　room。　Red　and　blue　spotlights　spun　and　twisted　as　green　lasers　pierced　and　wiggled　the　darkness；　then　turned　into　wheels　and　spun。　Dash　led　her　through　the　sea　of　flesh；　torsos　and　trunks；　heads　and　tails；　which　rose　in　tiers　from　the　dance　floor。　Everyone　was　in　a　different　stage　of　undress；　showing　off　tattoos　and　body　piercing。　Some　were　pletely　naked。　Every　variety　and　possible　bination　of　sex　was　taking　place。　A　woman　wearing　an　Astroturf　dress　grabbed　on　to　a　speaker　as　she　was　mounted　from　behind　by　a　man　covered　from　head　to　toe　in　leather。
　Britt　felt　faint；　like　she　was　swimming。　Then　she　looked　down　and　saw　sharks；　big　ones；　gliding　in　a　floodlit　subterranean　aquarium　under　the　glass　dance　floor　beneath　her　feet。　Just　then　a　woman　pushed　up　to　them；　held　open　her　coat；　a　walking　drugstore；　and　asked　if　they　wanted　speed；　XTC；　LSD；　GHB；　smack；　crystal　mesh；　poppers；　barbs；　coke；　rock；　Chat；　'shrooms；　peyote；　opium。
　〃You　got　any　sugarless　gum？〃　Britt　asked。
　Outside　the　ropes　the　crowd　was　getting　more　and　more　unruly；　as　Juan　Carlos　Reyes　arrived　with　two　dozen　members　of　the　First　of　April　anti…Castro　paramilitary　group；　tipped　off　by　an　anonymous　phone　call　that　an　extremely　high　official　of　the　Cuban　government　was　going　to　be　at　the　opening。
　Inside；　the　main　stage　of　Hell　was　flooded　with　light。　Shelley　Novak　led　a　chorus　line　of　drag　queens。　In　her　hands　she　held　a　silver　platter；　sauteed　in　blood；　topped　with　an　extremely　lifelike　head　of　Fidel　Castro。
　〃There's　my　damn　prop！〃　Dash　said；　pointing　to　the　head；　pulling　Britt　in　his　direction。　As　they　lurched　forward　in　the　throng；　machines　started　pumping　foam　all　over　the　club　as　the　revelers　cried　out　in　unison。
　The　din　was　so　great　nobody　even　heard　the　motion　at　the　door　when　the　bouncers　refused　to　let　Juan　Carlos　and　his　men　in。　At　Reyes's　signal；　they　butted　the　bouncers　with　their　guns　and　stormed　in。　The　crowd　of　thousands　still　waiting　outside　the　velvet　ropes　saw　their　opportunity　and　rushed　behind　them；　screaming；　into　the　club；　into　the　darkness；　the　heat；　the　smoke；　the　foam；　onto　the　dance　floor　all　at　once。　Onstage；　a　conga　line　of　fifty　Castros　in　tutus　kicked　in　unison。　Juan　and　his　men　stood　there　pointing　their　guns；　not　knowing　which　one　to　shoot；　as　a　thirty…foot…high　red　devil's　head　was　lowered　from　the　ceiling。　Its　mouth　opened　wide　and　a　deep　bass　voice　said；　〃Wele　to　South　Beach。　Wele　to　Hell。〃　As　if　on　cue；　the　glass　dance　floor　splintered；　then　gave　way；　and　squirming　partygoers　tumbled　into　the　shark…filled　pool。
　
　The　Miami　morning　sun　shone　brightly；　cheerfully；　mocking　Fay's　sadness。　She　wished　for　some　gray；　some　overcast。　Remnants　of　last　night's　sleeping　pills　scuba…dived　in　her　brain　as　she　checked　the　black；　late…model　Acura　following　her　in　the　rearview　mirror。　She'd　easily　shaken　the　other　two　cars　that　were　following　her；　but　this　bastard　seemed　stuck　to　her。　So　much　to　do；　so　little　energy；　she　thought。　Planning　her　Granny's　funeral　in　her　head；　worrying　about　Phil。　And　these　damn　reporters；　worse　than　no…see…ums。
　She　headed　on　395　east　toward　Biscayne　Bay；　driving　fast；　faster；　watching　the　speedometer；　seventy；　eighty；　ninety。　She　hit　a　bump；　her　truck　bounced；　the　scuba　tanks　in　the　back　banging　against　each　other；　metal　scraping　metal。　She　knew　she　should　have　unloaded　them。
　The　Acura　followed　her　as　she　screeched　down　the　expressway　ramp。　This　asshole　wasn't　just　another　reporter；　she　thought；　or　he　would　have　given　up　by　now。　She　headed　up　Biscayne　Boulevard；　the　truck　trembling　as　she　swerved　onto　the　Venetian　Causeway。
　Fay　saw　the　lights　of　the　bridge　gate；　and　then　heard　the　bells　of　the　bridge　start　to　ring；　the　signal　almost　drowned　out　by　the　raucous　strains　of　〃Disco；　Disco；　Duck！〃　ing　from　a　party　boat；　all　lit　up　like　Christmas；　approaching　from　the　south。
　Granny；　she　thought；　help　me；　save　me。　She　hit　the　brakes　instinctively　and　then　realized　that　flooring　it　was　her　only　chance。　She　stomped　on　the　pedal。　The　scuba　tanks；　which　had　slid　violently　forward　when　she　hit　the　brakes；　now　shot　back　as　the　truck　screeched　forward。　When　they　slammed　into　the　tailgate；　they　leapt　up；　and　out　into　the　air；　in　a　perfect　arch。
　The　bridge　tender　saw　Fay's　truck　racing　toward　him　on　one　side；　the　disco　boat　cruising　toward　him　underneath　on　the　other；　scuba　tanks　flying　above　him；　and　almost　directly　below　him；　floating　in　the　water；　a　big　brown　blob　that　looked　like　a　booger。
　He　jammed　his　finger　on　the　red　stop　button；　and　the　ancient　spans　that　had　just　begun　to　rumble　upward　jerked　to　a　halt。　As　soon　as　the　truck　hopped　over　the　slightly　inclined　span；　airborne　for　a　split　second；　then　slamming　back　down　on　the　other　side　with　a　bump　and　a　shimmy；　he　threw　the　drawbridge　lift　all　the　way　to　the　right；　full　speed；　hoping　it　would　raise　up　high　enough　to　allow　the　disco　boat　under　it。
　But　that　was　the　least　of　his　problems。　The　black　Acura；　apparently　intent　on　leaping　across　the　opening　span；　crashed　through　the　blinking　gate。　But　before　it　reached　the　center；　the　airborne　scuba　tanks　crashed　into　the　windshield　at　a　relative　velocity　in　excess　of　a　hundred　miles　per　hour。
　The　explosion　lit　up　the　sky　behind　her；　but　Fay　just　kept　right　on　driving　until　she　pulled　into　the　Barnett　Bank　on　Alton　Road。　She　grabbed　an　empty　grocery　bag　and　walked　into　the　bank。　If　that　fisherman　hadn't　handed　her　the　key　in　Peacock　Park；　she　might　not　have　remembered　this　for　weeks；　remembered　that　years　before；　Granny　had　given　her　the　duplicate　key　to　her　safe　deposit　box；　〃just　in　case　anything　happens　to　me。〃　
　〃But　Granny；〃　she'd　protested。　〃Why　should　anything　happen　to　you？　You're　only　ninety…nine。〃
　Fay　was　led　into　the　vault。　She　removed　the　box　and　carried　it　into　the　cubicle　and　shut　the　door。　She　took　a　deep　breath；　took　out　her　key；　took　out　the　identical　key　the　fisherman　had　given　her；　and　opened　the　box。　She　couldn't　believe　her　eyes。　The　box　was　jammed　with　money；　piles　and　piles　of　neatly　stacked　hundred…dollar　bills。　Fay　had　never　seen　so　much　money　in　her　life。　Resting　on　top　of　it　was　a　sealed　envelope　with　her　name　printed　neatly　in　her　Granny's　handwriting。　Fay　opened　it。
　Dearest　Fay；
　I　could　not　die　happily　as　long　as　I　knew　my　lover；　my　friend；　my　life；　my　bay　was　in　danger。　When　the　bay　gave　me　the　head；　I　realized　what　I　had　to　do。　I　knew　the　head　would　be　worth　a　lot　of　money　to　the　right　people。　There's　dose　to　a　million　dollars　in　this　box。　Use　it　to　save　Biscayne　Bay。　But　don't　ask　any　questions　about　where　I　got　this　money。　These　are　bad　people。
　I　love　you　with　all　my　heart；　my　special　Angelfish；　Granny　Marion
　
　10。　DANCE　OF　THE　MANATEE…Vicki　Hendricks
　Booger　heard　the　crack　and　rumble　above　him　as　he　followed　the　party　boat　upstream。　He　felt　chills　rush　down　his　hide　and　each　bristle　on　his　back　push　against　the　flow。　He　felt　his　nakedness。　His　two…thousand…pound　bulk　was　as　vulnerable　as　a　bowl　of　fish　aspic。
　He　craved　Marion；　the　human　he　called　Ma。　He　sought　the　warmth　of　her　frail　flesh。　But　he　sensed　that　the　soft　crepey　arms　would　never　again　rock　his　fears　away；　nor　the　skeletal　fingers　massage　the　sensitive　areas　beneath　his　limbs。
　She　had　often　e　to　him　in　the　moonlight　when　the　harsh　air…world　was　smothering　her；　a　hot　trickle　of　energy　seeping　from　her　pores　into　the　salt　water。　He　would　nuzzle　his　rubbery　nose　under　her　armpits　or　into　her　rump　till　she　shrieked　with　pleasure。　They　had　munication　beyond　words。　They　were　good　for　each　other。　Now　she　was　gone。
　His　smallish　brain　replayed　the　scenario　of　the　last　afternoon　he'd　seen　her　alive。　He'd　been　munching　at　the　bottom；　chewing　well　on　a　particularly　bitter　clump　of　turtle　grass；　when　he'd　recognized　Ma's　bony　legs。　They'd　been　fluttering　and　whipping　in　a　foaming　chaos　of　kicks　that　was　sure　to　lure　sharks。　Behind　her　was　the　silent　black　hull　of　a　Cigarette　boat　following　at　no…wake　speed。　Booger　had　surfaced　to　see　Ma　thrashing　with　her　last　strength　through　the　waves；　coughing；　gulping　air；　digging　in；　trying　to　reach　her　Booger。
　She'd　led　them　into　Booger　territory；　for　him　to　save　her。　He　felt　his　adrenaline…like　fluids　start　to　pump。　He　dove　and　came　up　in　front　of　her。　He　humped　her　onto　his　rounded　shoulders　and　made　a　run　for　the　shallows；　but　he　couldn't　submerge　to　get　up　speed。　Ma　was　gasping；　and　her　shaking　arms　could　barely　cling　around　his　neck。
　They　never　had　a　chance。　The　monster　boat　could　go　most　anyplace　he　could。　It　was　on　his　tail；　unstoppable　as　a　freighter。
　〃Okay；　Miss　Marion；〃　a　male　human　bellowed。　〃No　more　exercise。　Tell　us　where　it　is　or　we　shoot　the　porker　you're　ridin'　on。〃
　She　let　go　of　Booger's　neck　instantly。　He　tried　to　nuzzle　be