ch.nativetongue-第40节

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ooned　with　multicolored　streamers　and　hundreds　of　Mylar　balloons。　Cheerleaders　practiced　cartwheels　over　the　turnstiles　while　the　Tavernier　High　School　band　rehearsed　the　theme　from　Exodus。　Several　of　the　most　popular　animal　characters…Robbie　Raccoon；　Petey　Possum　and　Barney　the　Bison…were　summoned　from　desultory　lunch　breaks　in　The　Catabs　to　greet　and　be　photographed　with　the　big　winner。　Above　a　hastily　constructed　stage；　a　billowy　hand…painted　banner　weled　〃OUR　FIVE…MILLIONTH　SPECIAL　GUEST！！！〃
　And　there；　parked　in　the　courtyard；　was　a　newly　restored　1966　Chevrolet　Corvair；　one　of　Detroit's　most　venerated　deathtraps。　Charles　Chelsea　had　been　unable　to　locate　a　mint…condition　Falcon；　and　the　vintage　Mustangs　were　beyond　Francis　Kingsbury's　budget。　The　Corvair　was　Chelsea's　next　choice　as　the　giveaway　car　because　it　was　a　genuine　curiosity；　and　because　it　was　cheap。　The　one　purchased　by　Chelsea　had　been　rear…ended　by　a　dairy　tanker　in　1972；　and　the　resulting　explosion　had　wiped　out　a　quartet　of　home…appliance　salesmen。　The　rebuilt　Corvair　was　seven　inches　shorter　from　bumper　to　bumper　than　the　day　it　had　rolled　off　the　assembly　line；　but　Charles　Chelsea　was　certain　no　one　would　notice。　Two　extra　coats　of　cherry　paint　and　the　Corvair　shouted　classic。　It　was　exactly　the　sort　of　campy　junk…mobile　that　some　dumb　Yuppie　would　love。
　The　scene　was　set　for　the　coronation　of　the　alleged　five…millionth　visitor　to　the　Amazing　Kingdom。　The　only　thing　missing　from　the　festive　tableau；　Chelsea　noted　lugubriously；　was　customers。　〃The　park　had　opened　more　than　two　hours　ago；　yet　not　a　single　carload　of　tourists　had　arrived。　The　trams　were　empty；　the　cash　registers　mute；　no　one　had　passed　through　the　ticket　gates。　Chelsea　couldn't　understand　it…the　place　had　not　experienced　such　a　catastrophic　attendance　drop　since　salmonella　had　felled　a　visiting　contingent　of　Rotarians　at　Sally's　Cimarron　Saloon。
　Chelsea　prayed　with　all　his　heart　that　some　tourists　would　show　up　before　the　television　vans。　He　did　not　know；　and　could　not　have　envisioned；　that　an　eighteen…wheeler　loaded　with　the　deposing　remains　of　Orky　the　Whale　had　flipped　on　Card　Sound　Road　and　paralyzed　all　traffic　heading　toward　the　Amazing　Kingdom。　The　highway　patrol　diligently　had　set　up　a　roadblock　at　the　junction　near　Florida　City；　where　troopers　were　advising　all　buses；　campers　and　rental　cars　filled　with　Francis　X。　Kingsbury's　customers　to　turn　around　and　return　to　Miami。　The　beleaguered　troopers　did　not　consider　it　their　sworn　duty　to　educate　the　tourists　about　an　alternate　route　to　the　Amazing　Kingdom…taking　Highway　1　south　past　Jewfish　Creek；　then　backtracking　up　County　Road　905　to　the　park。　The　feeling　among　the　troopers　（based　on　years　of　experience）　was　that　no　matter　how　simple　and　explicit　they　made　the　directions；　many　of　the　tourists　would　manage　to　get　lost；　run　out　of　gas　and　bee　the　victims　of　some　nasty　roadside　crime。　A　more　sensible　option　was　simply　to　tell　them　to　go　back；　there'd　been　a　bad　accident。
　Consequently　Charles　Chelsea　stood　in　eery　solitude　on　the　makeshift　stage；　the　cheery　banner　flapping　over　his　head　as　he　stared　at　the　empty　parking　lot　and　wondered　how　in　the　hell　he　would　break　the　news　to　Francis　X。　Kingsbury。　Today　there　would　be　no　celebration；　no　parade；　no　five…millionth　visitor。　There　were　no　visitors　at　all。
　
　Joe　Winder　felt　like　a　damn　redneck…he　hadn't　been　to　a　firing　range　in　ten　or　twelve　years；　and　that　was　to　shoot　his　father's　revolver；　an　old　Smith。　The　gun　Skink　had　given　him　was　a　thin　foreign…made　semi…automatic。　It　didn't　have　much　weight；　but　Skink　promised　it　would　do　the　job；　whatever　job　needed　doing。　Winder　had　decided　to　keep　it　for　ornamental　purposes。　It　lay　under　the　front　seat　as　he　drove　south　on　County　Road　905。
　He　stopped　at　a　pay　phone；　dialed　the　sex…talk　number　and　billed　it　to　his　home。　Miriam　answered　and　started　in　with　a　new　routine；　something　about　riding　bareback　on　a　pony。　When　Winder　broke　in　and　asked　for　Nina；　Miriam　told　him　she　wasn't　there。
　〃Tell　her　to　call　me；　please。〃
　〃Hokay；　Joe。〃
　〃On　second　thought；　never　mind。〃
　〃Whatever　chew　say。　You　like　the　horsey　business？〃
　〃Yes；　Miriam；　it's　very　good。〃
　〃Nina　wrote　it。　Want　me　do　the　end？〃
　〃No　thank　you。〃
　〃Is　hot　stuff；　Joe。　Cheese　got　some　mansionation。〃
　〃She　sure　does。〃
　Joe　Winder　drove　until　he　reached　the　Falcon　Trace　construction　site。　He　parked　on　the　side　of　the　road　and　watched　a　pair　of　mustard…colored　bulldozers　plow　a　fresh　section　of　hammock；　creating　a　tangled　knoll　of　uprooted　tamarinds；　buttonwoods；　pigeon　plums　and　rouge…berry。　Each　day　a　few　more　acres　were　being　destroyed　in　the　name　of　championship　golf。
　A　team　of　surveyors　worked　the　distant　end　of　the　property；　near　Winder's　fishing　spot。　He　assumed　they　were　marking　off　the　lots　where　the　most　expensive　homes　would　be　built…the　more　ocean　frontage；　the　higher　the　price。　This　was　how　Francis　X。　Kingsbury　would　make　his　money…the　golf　course　itself　was　never　meant　to　profit；　it　was　a　real…estate　tease；　plain　and　simple。　The　links　would　be　pieced　together　in　the　middle　of　the　development　on　whatever　parcels　couldn't　be　peddled　as　residential　waterfront。　Soon；　Winder　knew；　they'd　start　blasting　with　dynamite　to　dig　fairway　lakes　in　the　ancient　reef　rock。
　He　saw　that　both　bulldozers　had　stopped；　and　that　the　drivers　had　gotten　down　from　the　cabs　to　look　at　something　in　the　trees。　Joe　Winder　stepped　out　of　the　car　and　started　running。　He　remembered　what　Skink　had　told　him　about　the　baby　eagles。　He　shouted　at　the　men　and　saw　them　turn。　One　folded　his　arms　and　slouched　against　his　dozer。
　Winder　covered　the　two　hundred　yards　in　a　minute。　When　he　reached　the　men；　he　was　panting　too　hard　to　speak。
　One　of　them　said：　〃What's　your　problem？〃
　Winder　flashed　his　Amazing　Kingdom　identification　badge；　which　he　had　purposely　neglected　to　turn　in　upon　termination　of　employment。　The　lazy　bulldozer　driver；　the　one　leaning　against　his　machine；　studied　the　badge　and　began　to　laugh。　〃What　the　hell　is　this？〃
　When　Joe　Winder　caught　his　breath；　he　said：　〃I　work　for　Mr。　Kingsbury。　He　owns　this　land。〃
　〃Ain't　the　name　on　the　permit。　The　permit　says　Ramex　Global。〃
　The　other　driver　spoke　up：　〃Anyway；　who　gives　a　shit　about　some　goddamn　wolves？〃
　〃Yeah；〃　the　first　driver　said。　〃Bury　'em。〃
　〃No；〃　said　Joe　Winder。　They　weren't　wolves；　they　were　gray　foxes…six　of　them；　no　larger　than　kittens。　The　bulldozers　had　uprooted　the　den　tree。　Half…blind；　the　little　ones　were　crawling　all　over　each　other；　squeaking　and　yapping　in　toothless　panic。
　Winder　said；　〃If　we　leave　them　alone；　the　mother　will　probably　e　back。〃
　〃What　is　this；　'Wild　Kingdom'？〃
　〃At　least　help　me　move　them　out　of　the　way。〃
　〃Forget　it；〃　the　smartass　driver　said。　〃I　ain't　in　the　mood　for　rabies。　e　on；　Bobby；　let's　roll　it。〃
　The　men　climbed　back　in　the　dozers　and　seized　the　gear　sticks。　Instinctively　Joe　Winder　positioned　himself　between　the　large　machines　and　the　baby　foxes。　The　drivers　began　to　holler　and　curse。　The　smartass　lowered　the　blade　of　his　bulldozer　and　inched　forward；　pushing　a　ridge　of　moist　dirt　over　the　tops　of　Joe　Winder's　shoes。　The　driver　grinned　and　whooped　at　his　own　cleverness　until　he　noticed　the　gun　pointed　up　at　his　head。
　He　quickly　turned　off　the　engine　and　raised　his　hands。　The　other　driver　did　the　same。　In　a　scratchy　whine　he　said；　〃Geez；　what's　your　problem？〃
　Winder　held　the　semi…automatic　steady。　He　was　surprised　at　how　natural　it　felt。　He　said；　〃Is　this　what　it　takes　to　have　a　civilized　conversation　with　you　shit…heads？〃
　Quickly　he　checked　over　his　shoulder　to　make　sure　the　kits　hadn't　crawled　from　the　den。　The　outlandish…ness　of　the　situation　was　apparent；　but　he'd　mitted　himself　to　melodrama。　With　the　gun　on　display；　he　was　already　deep　into　felony　territory。
　The　smartass　driver　apologized　profusely　for　burying　Winder's　shoes。　〃I'll　buy　you　some　new　ones；〃　he　offered。
　〃Oh；　that's　not　necessary。〃　Winder　yearned　to　shoot　the　bulldozers　but　he　didn't　know　where　to　begin；　the　heavy　steel　thoraxes　looked　impervious　to　cannon　fire。
　The　lazy　driver　said：　〃You　want　us　to　get　down？〃
　〃Not　just　yet；〃　said　Joe　Winder；　〃I'm　thinking。〃
　〃Hey；　there's　no　need　to　shoot。　Just　tell　us　what　the　hell　you　want。〃
　〃I　want　you　to　help　me　fuck　up　these　machines。〃
　
　It　was　nine　o'clock　when　the　knock　came。　Joe　Winder　was　sitting　in　the　dark　on　the　floor　of　the　apartment。　He　had　the　clip　out　of　the　gun；　and　the　bullets　out　of　the　clip。　A　full　load；　too；　sixteen　rounds；　he　had　lined　up　the　little　rascals　side　by　side　on　a　windowsill；　a　neat　row　of　identical　copper…headed　soldiers。
　The　knocking　wouldn't　go　away。　Winder　picked　up　the　empty　gun。　He　went　to　the　door　and　peeked　out　of　the　peephole。　He　saw　an　orb　of　glistening　blond；　not　Nina…style　blond；　this　was　lighter。　When　the　woman　turned　around；　Winder　flung　open　the　door　and　pulled　her　inside。
　In　the　darkness　Carrie　Lanier　took　a　deep　breath　and　said：　〃I　hope　that's　you。〃
　〃It's　me；〃　Joe　Winder　said。
　〃Was　that　a　gun　I　saw？〃
　〃I'm　afraid　so。　My　situation　has　taken　a　turn　for　the　worse。〃
　Carrie　said；　〃That's　why　I　came。〃
　Winder　led　her　back　to　the　living　room；　where　they　sat　betw