ch.nativetongue-第17节

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　The　strategy　of　staying　invisible　might　have　worked　if　only　a　powerful　fish　had　not　seized　Joe　Winder's　lure。　The　strike　jolted　his　arms；　and　reflexively　he　yanked　back　hard　to　set　the　hook。　The　fish　streaked　toward　the　rock；　then　back　out　again　toward　open　water。　The　buzz　of　Winder's　reel　cut　like　a　saw　through　the　stillness　of　the　bay。　The　two　goons　stopped　talking　and　looked　up　to　see　what　was　happening。
　Joe　Winder　knew。　It　was　a　snook；　a　damn　big　one。　Any　other　night　he　would　have　been　thrilled　to　hook　such　a　fish；　but　not　now。　From　the　corner　of　his　eye　he　could　see　the　goons　rock…hopping　down　the　jetty　so　they　could　better　view　the　battle。　Near　a　piling　the　fish　broke　to　the　surface；　shaking　its　gills　furiously　before　diving　in　a　frothy　silver　gash。　The　goons　pointed　excitedly　at　the　motion；　and　Winder　couldn't　blame　them；　it　was　a　grand　fish。
　Joe　Winder　knew　what　to　do；　but　he　couldn't　bring　himself　to　do　it。　Palm　the　spool。　Break　the　damn　thing　off；　before　the　two　guys　got　any　closer。　Instead　Joe　Winder　was　playing　the　fish　like　a　pro；　horsing　it　away　from　the　rocks　and　pilings；　letting　it　spend　itself　in　short　hard　bursts。　What　am　I；　crazy？　Winder　thought。　From　up　here　I　could　never　land　this　fish　alone。　The　goons　would　want　to　help；　sure　they　would；　and　then　they'd　see　who　I　was　and　that　would　be　it。　One　dead　snook　and　one　dead　flack。
　Again　the　fish　thrust　its　underslung　snout　from　the　water　and　splashed。　Even　in　the　tea…colored　water　the　black　lateral　stripe　was　visible　along　its　side。　Twelve　pounds　easy；　thought　Winder。　A　fine　one。
　One　of　the　goons　clapped　his　hands　and　Joe　Winder　looked　up。　〃Nize　goying；〃　the　man　said。　〃Dat's　some　fugging　fish。〃　It　was　the　short　wiry　one。
　〃Thanks；〃　said　Winder。　Maybe　he　was　wrong。　Maybe　these　weren't　the　bad　guys；　after　all。　Or　maybe　they　hadn't　e　to　hurt　him；　maybe　they　just　wanted　to　talk。　Maybe　they　had　Koocher　and　were　scheming　for　a　ransom。
　After　five　minutes　of　back…and…forth；　the　snook　was　tiring。　Twenty　yards　from　the　jetty　it　glided　to　the　surface　and　flopped　its　tail　once；　twice。　Not　yet；　Winder　thought；　don't　give　up　yet；　you　marvelous　bastard。
　He　heard　their　heavy　footsteps　on　the　rocks。　Now　they　were　behind　him。　He　heard　their　breathing。　One　of　them　was　chewing　gum。　Joe　Winder　smelled　hot　spearmint　and　beer。
　〃What're　you　waiting　for？〃　asked　the　big　one。
　〃He's　not　ready；〃　Winder　said；　afraid　to　turn　and　give　them　a　look　at　his　face。　〃He's　still　got　some　gas。〃
　〃No；　look　at　the　fugging　thin；〃　said　the　little　one。　〃He　juice　about　dead；　mang。〃
　The　snook　was　dogging　it　on　top；　barely　putting　a　bend　in　Joe　Winder's　fishing　rod。
　〃That's　some　good　eating；〃　the　big　no…neck　goon　remarked。
　Winder　swallowed　dryly　and　said；　〃Too　bad　they're　out　of　season。〃
　He　heard　both　of　the　men　laugh。　〃Hey；　you　don't　want　him；　we'll　take　it　off　your　hands。　Fry　his　ass　up　in　a　minute。　Right；　Angel？〃
　The　little　one；　Angel；　said；　〃Yeah；　I　go　down　and　grab　hole　the　fugging　thin。〃　He　took　off　his　baseball　cap　and　scrabbled　noisily　down　the　rocks。
　Joe　Winder　got　a　mental　picture　of　these　two　submorons　in　yellowed　undershirts…swilling　beer；　watching　〃Wheel〃　on　the　tube…cooking　up　the　snook　on　a　cheap　gas　stove　in　some　rathole　Hialeah　duplex。　The　thought　of　it　was　more　than　he　could　stand。　He　placed　his　hand　on　the　spool　of　the　reel　and　pulled　once；　savagely。
　The　snook　had　one　good　powerful　surge　left　in　its　heart；　and　the　fishing　line　snapped　like　a　rifle　shot。　Joe　Winder　fell　back；　then　steadied　himself。　〃Goddammit；〃　he　said；　trying　to　sound　disappointed。
　〃That　was　really　stupid；〃　said　the　big　goon。　〃You　don't　know　shit　about　fighting　a　fish。〃
　〃I　guess　not。〃
　The　wiry　one　had　been　waiting　by　the　water　when　the　fish　got　off。　Cursing　in　Spanish；　he　monkeyed　back　up　the　rocks。　To　guide　himself；　he　held　a　small　flashlight　in　one　hand。　The　beam　caught　Joe　Winder　flush　in　the　face；　there　was　nothing　he　could　do。
　Instantly　the　big　goon　grabbed　him　by　the　shoulder。　〃Hey！　You　work　at　the　park。〃
　〃What　park？〃
　The　wiry　one　said；　〃Doan　tell　me　he's　the　guy。〃
　〃Yup；〃　said　the　big　one；　tightening　his　grip。
　The　men　edged　closer。　Joe　Winder　could　sense　they　were　angry　about　not　recognizing　him　sooner。
　〃Mr。　Fisherman；〃　said　the　big　one　acidly。
　〃That's　me；〃　said　Winder。　〃You　must　be　the　one　who　wanted　to　talk　about　Dr。　Koocher。〃
　The　goon　named　Angel　turned　off　the　flashlight　and　buried　it　in　his　jacket。　〃Two　hours　with　these　damn　mosquitoes　and　you　standing　right　here；　the　whole　fugging　tine！〃　He　punched　Joe　Winder　ferociously　in　the　kidney。
　As　Winder　fell；　he　thought：　So　they're　not　here　to　chat。
　His　head　bounced　against　limestone　and　he　began　to　lose　consciousness。　Then　he　felt　himself　being　lifted　by　the　armpits；　which　hurt　like　hell。　They　were　carrying　him　somewhere　in　a　hurry。
　The　husky　one；　Spearmint　Breath；　was　talking　in　Joe　Winder's　ear。　〃What'd　he　say　on　the　phone？〃
　〃Who？〃
　〃The　rat　doctor。〃
　〃Nothing。〃　Winder　was　panting。
　〃Aw；　bullshit。〃
　〃I　swear。　He　left　a　message；　that's　all。〃　Winder　tried　to　walk　but　felt　his　legs　pedaling　air；　being　swept　along。　〃Just　a　message　was　all；〃　he　said　again。　〃He　wanted　to　see　me　but　he　didn't　say　why。〃
　In　his　other　ear；　Joe　Winder　heard　the　wiry　one　call　him　a　stinken　fugging　liar。
　〃No；　I　swear。〃
　They　had　him　up　against　the　side　of　a　truck。　Bronco。　White。　Rusty　as　hell。　Ford　Bronco；　Winder　thought。　In　case　I　live　through　this。
　In　case　anybody　might　be　interested。
　The　big　goon　spun　Joe　Winder　around　and　pinned　his　arms　while　the　one　named　Angel　slugged　him　on　the　point　of　the　jaw。　Then　he　hit　him　once　in　each　eye。　Winder　felt　his　face　start　to　bloat　and　soften；　like　a　melon　going　bad。　With　any　luck；　total　numbness　would　soon　follow。
　Angel　was　working　up　a　sweat。　Every　time　he　threw　a　punch；　he　let　out　a　sharp　yip；　like　a　poodle。　It　would　have　been　hilarious　except　for　the　pain　that　went　with　it。
　Finally；　Spearmint　Breath　said；　〃I　don't　think　he　knows　jack　shit。〃　Then　he　said　something　in　Spanish。
　Angel　said；　〃Chur　he　does；　the　cokesucker。〃　This　time　he　hit　Joe　Winder　in　the　gut。
　Perfect。　Can't　breathe。　Can't　see。　Can't　talk。
　The　big　goon　let　go；　and　Winder　fell　limp　across　the　hood　of　the　truck。
　The　man　named　Angel　said；　〃Hey；　what　the　fug。〃　There　was　something　new　in　his　voice；　he　sounded　very　confused。　Even　in　a　fog；　Joe　Winder　could　tell　that　the　little　creep　wasn't　talking　to　him…or　to　Spearmint　Breath；　either。
　Suddenly　a　great　turmoil　erupted　around　the　truck；　and　the　man　named　Angel　gave　out　a　scream　that　didn't　sound　anything　like　a　little　dog。　The　scream　made　Joe　Winder　raise　his　head　off　the　fender　and　open　what　was　left　of　his　eyelids。
　Through　misty　slits　he　saw　the　husky　no…neck　goon　running　toward　the　bridge。　Running　away　as　fast　as　he　could。
　Where　was　Angel？
　Something　lifted　Joe　Winder　off　the　truck　and　laid　him　on　the　gravel。　He　struggled　to　focus　on　the　face。　Face？　Naw；　had　to　be　a　mask。　A　silvery　beard　of　biblical　proportions。　Mismatched　eyes：　one　as　green　as　mountain　pines；　the　other　brown　and　dead。　Above　that；　a　halo　of　pink　flowers。　Weird。　The　mask　leaned　closer　and　whispered　in　Joe　Winder's　ear。
　The　words　tumbled　around　like　dice　in　his　brainpan。　Made　no　damn　sense。　The　stranger　bent　down　and　said　it　again。
　〃I'll　get　the　other　one　later。〃
　Joe　Winder　tried　to　speak　but　all　that　came　out　was　a　gulping　noise。　He　heard　a　car　ing　down　the　old　road　and　turned　his　head　to　see。　Soon　he　became　mesmerized　by　the　twin　beams　of　yellow　light；　growing　larger　and　larger；　lasers　shooting　out　of　the　mangroves。　Or　was　it　a　spaceship？
　When　Winder　turned　back；　he　was　alone。　The　man　who　had　saved　his　life　was　gone。
　The　car　went　by　in　a　rush　of　noise。　Joe　Winder　watched　the　taillights　vanish　over　the　crest　of　the　bridge。　It　was　an　hour　before　he　could　get　to　his　feet；　another　twenty　minutes　before　he　could　make　them　move　in　any　sensible　way。
　As　he　staggered　along　the　pavement；　he　counted　the　cars　to　keep　his　mind　off　the　pain。　Seven　sped　past　without　stopping　to　help。　Winder　was　thinking；　Maybe　I　feel　worse　than　I　look。　Maybe　the　blood　doesn't　show　up　so　well　in　the　dark。　Two　or　three　drivers　actually　touched　the　brakes。　One　honked　and　hurled　a　Heineken　bottle　at　him。
　The　eighth　car　went　by　doing　seventy　at　least；　heading　eastbound　to　the　island。　Joe　Winder　saw　the　brake　lights　wink　and　heard　the　tires　squeal。　Slowly　the　car　backed　up。　The　door　on　the　passenger　side　swung　open。
　A　voice　said：　〃My　God；　are　you　all　right？〃
　〃Not　really；〃　said　Joe　Winder。　Half…blind；　he　was　trying　to　fit　himself　into　the　car　when　he　encountered　something　large　and　fuzzy　on　the　upholstery。
　It　was　an　animal　head。　He　hoped　it　was　not　real。
　Carrie　Lanier　picked　it　up　by　the　snout　and　tossed　it　into　the　back　seat。　She　took　Joe　Winder's　elbow　and　helped　him　sit　down。　Reaching　across　his　lap；　she　slammed　the　car　door　and　locked　it。　〃I　can't　believe　this；〃　she　said；　and　stepped　on　the　accelerator。
　To　Joe　Winder　it　felt　as　if　they　were　going　five　hundred　miles　an　hour；　straight　for　the　ocean。
　Carrie　Lanier　kept　glancing　over　at　him；　probably　to　make　sure　he　was　still　breathing。　After　a　while　she　said；　〃I'm　sorry；　what　was　your　name　agai