ch.nativetongue-第74节

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　Who　is　this　tramp？〃
　Now　Winder　started　laughing；　too。　〃I'd　better　go；〃　he　said；　〃before　I　say　something　sensible。〃
　〃Call　me；　Joe。　Whatever　happens；　I'd　love　to　get　a　phone　call。〃
　〃I　know　the　number　by　heart；〃　he　said。　〃Me　and　every　pervert　on　the　Gold　Coast。〃
　〃You　go　to　hell；〃　Nina　teased。　〃And　be　careful；　dammit。〃
　He　said　good…bye　and　placed　the　receiver　on　Charles　Chelsea's　desk。
　Skink　mulched　a　cotton　candy　and　said；　〃These　are　excellent　seats。〃
　They　ought　to　be。〃　Joe　Winder　assumed　Francis　X。　Kingsbury　would　arrive　at　any　moment；　it　was　his　private　viewing　box；　after　all…leather　swivel　chairs；　air…conditioning；　video　monitors；　a　wet　bar。　Thirty　rows　up；　overlooking　the　parade　route。
　〃What　will　you　do　when　he　gets　here？〃　Skink　asked。
　〃I　haven't　decided。　Maybe　he'd　like　to　go　swimming　with　Pedro's　new　friend。〃
　The　grandstand　was　packed；　and　Kingsbury　Lane　was　lined　five　deep　with　eager　spectators。　As　the　history　of　Florida　unfolded　in　song　and　skit；　Joe　Winder　imagined　that　the　Stations　of　the　Cross　could　be　similarly　adapted　and　set　to　music；　if　the　audience　would　only　forgive　a　few　minor　revisions。　Every　float　in　the　Summerfest　pageant　was　greeted　with　the　blind　and　witless　glee　displayed　by　people　who　have　spent　way　too　much　money　and　are　determined　to　have　fun。　They　cheered　at　the　sight　of　a　bootless　Ponce　de　Leon；　an　underaged　maiden　on　each　arm；　wading　bawdily　into　the　Fountain　of　Youth；　they　roared　as　the　pirate　Black　Caesar　chased　a　concubine　up　the　mizzenmast　while　his　men　plundered　a　captured　galleon；　they　gasped　as　the　Killer　Hurricane　of　1926　tore　the　roof　off　a　settler's　cabin　and　the　smock　off　his　brave　young　wife。
　Skink　said；　〃I　never　realized　cleavage　played　such　an　important　role　in　Florida　history。〃　Joe　Winder　told　him　to　just　wait　for　the　break…dancing　migrants。
　Carrie　Lanier　gave　a　cassette　of　the　new　music　to　the　driver；　and　took　her　place　on　the　last　float。　The　Talent　Manager　showed　up　and　demanded　to　know　why　she　wasn't　wearing　the　Indian　costume。
　〃That　wasn't　an　Indian　costume；〃　Carrie　said；　〃unless　the　Seminoles　had　streetwalkers。〃
　The　Talent　Manager；　a　middle…aged　woman　with　sweeping　peroxide　hair　and　ropes　of　gold　jewelry；　informed　Carrie　that　a　long　gown　was　unsuitable　for　the　Jubilee　parade。
　〃It's　ideal　for　what　I'm　singing；〃　Carrie　replied。
　〃And　what　would　that　be？〃
　〃That　would　be　none　of　your　business。〃　She　adjusted　the　microphone；　which　was　clipped　into　the　neck　of　her　dress。
　The　Talent　Manager　became　angry。　〃Paul　Revere　and　the　Raiders　isn't　good　enough　for　you？〃
　〃Go　away；〃　said　Carrie。
　〃And　where's　our　lion？〃
　〃The　lion　is　taking　the　night　off。〃
　〃No；　missy；〃　the　Talent　lady　said；　shaking　a　finger。　〃Thousands　of　people　out　there　are　waiting　to　see　Princess　Golden　Sun　ride　a　wild　lion　through　the　Everglades。〃
　〃The　lion　has　a　furball。　Now　get　lost。〃
　〃At　least　put　on　the　wig；〃　the　Talent　lady　pleaded。　〃There's　no　such　thing　as　a　blond　Seminole。　For　the　sake　of　authenticity；　put　on　the　damn　wig！〃
　〃Toodle…loo；〃　said　Carrie。　And　the　float　began　to　roll。
　
　At　first；　Sergeant　Mark　Dyerson　thought　the　telemetry　was　on　the　fritz　again。　How　could　the　panther　get　back　on　the　island？　No　signal　had　been　received　for　days；　then　suddenly　there　it　was；　beep…beep…beep。　Number　17。　The　sneaky　bastard　was　at　it　again！
　Sergeant　Dyerson　asked　the　pilot　to　keep　circling　beneath　the　clouds　until　he　got　a　more　precise　fix　on　the　transmitter。　The　greenish　darkness　of　the　hammocks　and　the　ocean　suddenly　was　splayed　by　a　vast　sparkling　corridor　of　lights…the　Amazing　Kingdom　of　Thrills。　The　plane　banked　high　over　a　confetti　of　humanity。
　〃Damn；〃　said　the　ranger。　Sharply　he　tapped　the　top　of　the　radio　receiver。　〃This　can't　be　right。　Fly　me　over　again。〃
　But　the　telemetry　signals　were　identical　on　the　second　pass；　and　the　third　and　the　fourth。　Sergeant　Dyerson　peered　out　the　window　of　the　Piper　and　thought；　He's　down　there。　He's　inside　the　goddamn　park！
　The　ranger　told　the　pilot　to　call　Naples。　〃I　need　some　backup；〃　he　said；　〃and　I　need　the　guy　with　the　dogs。〃
　〃Should　I　say　which　cat　we're　after？〃
　〃No；　don't；〃　Sergeant　Dyerson　said。　The　top　brass　of　the　Game　and　Fish　Department　was　tired　of　hearing　about　Number　17。　〃Tell　them　we've　got　a　panther　in　trouble；〃　said　Sergeant　Dyerson；　〃that's　all　you　need　to　say。〃
　The　pilot　reached　for　the　radio。　〃What　the　hell's　it　doing　in　the　middle　of　an　amusement　park？〃
　〃Going　crazy；〃　said　the　ranger。　〃That's　all　I　can　figure。〃
　
　The　break…dancing　migrant　workers　were　a　sensation　with　the　crowd。　Skink　covered　his　face　during　most　of　the　performance；　it　was　one　of　the　most　tasteless　spectacles　he　had　ever　seen。　He　asked　Joe　Winder　if　he　wished　to　help　with　the　gasoline。
　〃No；　I'm　waiting　for　Kingsbury。〃
　〃What　for？〃
　〃To　resolve　our　differences　as　gentlemen。　And　possibly　pound　him　into　dog　chow。〃
　〃Forget　Kingsbury；〃　Skink　advised。　〃There's　your　girl。〃
　Carrie's　float　appeared　at　the　end　of　the　promenade；　a　spotlight　found　her　in　a　black　sequined　evening　gown；　posed　among　ersatz　palms　and　synthetic　cypress。　She　was　perfectly　dazzling；　although　the　crowd　reacted　with　confused　and　hesitant　applause…they'd　been　expecting　a　scantily　clad　Indian　princess　astride　a　snarling　wildcat。
　Joe　Winder　tried　to　wave；　but　it　hurt　too　much　to　raise　his　arms。　Carrie　didn't　see　him。　She　folded　her　hands　across　her　midriff　and　began　to　sing：
　
　〃Vissi　d'arte；　vissi　d'amore
　Non　fed　nin　male　ad　animal　viva！
　Con　man　furtiva
　Quante　miserie　conobbi；　aiutai。。。。〃
　
　Winder　was　dazed；　and　he　was　not　alone；　a　restless　murmuring　swept　through　the　stands　and　rippled　along　the　promenade。
　〃Magnificent！〃　Skink　said。　His　good　eye　ablaze；　he　clutched　Winder's　shoulder：　〃Isn't　she　something！〃
　〃What　is　that？　What's　she　singing？〃
　Skink　shook　him　with　fierce　exuberance。　〃My　God；　man；　it's　Puccini。　It's　Tosca！〃
　〃I　see。〃　It　was　a　new　wrinkle：　opera。
　And　Carrie　sang　beautifully；　what　her　voice　lacked　in　strength　it　made　up　in　a　flawless　liquid　clarity。　The　aria　washed　sorrowfully　across　the　Amazing　Kingdom　and；　like　a　chilly　rain；　changed　the　mood　of　the　evening。
　Skink　put　his　mouth　to　Winder's　ear　and　whispered：　〃This　takes　place　in　the　second　act；　where　Tosca　has　just　seen　her　lover　tortured　by　the　ruthless　police　chief　and　sentenced　to　death　by　a　firing　squad。　In　her　failed　effort　to　save　him；　Tosca　herself　bees　a　murderess。　Her　song　is　a　lamentation　on　life's　tragic　ironies。〃
　〃I'd　never　have　guessed；〃　Winder　said。
　As　the　float　passed　the　Magic　Mansion；　Carrie　sang：
　
　〃Nell　ora　del　dolore　
　Perche；　perche；　Signore；　
　Perche　me　ne　rimuneri　cost？〃
　
　Skink　closed　his　eyes　and　swayed。　〃Ah；　why；　dear　Lord；〃　he　said。　〃Ah；　why　do　you　reward　your　servant　so？〃
　Winder　said　the　audience　seemed　fidgety　and　disturbed。
　〃Disturbed？〃　Skink　was　indignant。　〃They　ought　to　be　distraught。　Mournful。　They　ought　to　be　weeping？
　〃They're　only　tourists；〃　Joe　Winder　said。　〃They've　been　waiting　all　afternoon　to　see　a　lion。〃
　〃Cretins。〃
　〃Oh；　she　knew；〃　Winder　said　fondly。　〃She　knew　they　wouldn't　like　it　one　bit。〃
　Skink　grinned。　〃Bless　her　heart。〃　He　began　to　applaud　rambunctiously；　〃Bravo！　Bravo！〃　His　clapping　and　shouting　caught　the　attention　of　spectators　in　the　lower　rows；　who　looked　up　toward　the　VIP　box　with　curious　annoyance。　Carrie　spotted　both　of　them　in　Kingsbury's　booth；　and　waved　anxiously。　Then　she　gathered　herself　and；　with　a　deep　breath；　began　the　first　verse　again。
　〃What　a　trouper。〃　Joe　Winder　was　very　proud。
　Skink　straightened　his　rain　cap　and　said；　〃Go　get　her。〃
　〃Now？〃
　〃Right　now。　It's　time。〃　Skink　reached　out　to　shake　Winder's　hand。　〃You've　got　about　an　hour；〃　he　said。
　Winder　told　him　to　be　careful。　〃There's　lots　of　kids　out　there。〃
　〃Don't　you　worry。〃
　〃What　about　Kingsbury？〃
　Skink　said；　〃Without　the　park；　he's　finished。〃
　〃I　intended　to　make　him　famous。　You　should've　heard　my　plan。〃
　〃Some　other　time；〃　Skink　said。　〃Now　go。　And　tell　her　how　great　she　was。　Tell　her　it　was　absolutely　wonderful。　Giao　would've　been　proud。〃
　〃Arrivederci！〃　said　Joe　Winder。
　
　From　his　third…floor　office　above　Sally's　Cimarron　Saloon；　Francis　X。　Kingsbury　heard　the　parade　go　by。　Only　Princess　Golden　Sun's　dolorous　aria　brought　him　to　the　window；　where　he　parted　the　blinds　to　see　what　in　the　name　of　Jesus　H。　Christ　had　gone　wrong。　The　disposition　of　the　crowd　had　changed　from　festive　to　impatient。　Unfuckingbelievable；　thought　Kingsbury。　It's　death；　this　music。　And　what's　with　the　evening　gown；　the　Kitty　Carlisle　number。　Where's　the　buckskin　bikini？　Where's　the　tits　and　ass？　The　tourists　looked　ready　to　bolt。
　Carrie　hit　the　final　note　and　held　it…held　it　forever；　it　seemed　to　Kingsbury。　The　girl　had　great　pipes；　he　had　to　admit；　but　it　wasn't　the　time　or　place　for　Italian　caterwauling。　And　God；　this　song；　when　would　it　end？
　As　the　float　trundled　by；　Kingsbury　was　surprised　to　see　that　Princess　Golden　Sun　wasn't　singing　anymore；　in　fact；　she　was　drinking　from　a　can　of　root　beer。　Yet　her　final　melancholy　note　still　hung　in　the　air！
　Or　was　it　something　else　now？
　The　fire　alarm；　for　instance。
　Kingsbury　thought：　Please；　don't　let　it　be。　He　tried　t