ch.doublewhammy-第62部分

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　He　walked　up　to　him　and　said　hello。　The　man　didn't　move　one　bit；　just　stared　straight　ahead。　Deacon　Johnson　could　see　nothing　but　his　own　natty　reflection　in　the　dark　glasses。
　〃May　I　ask；〃　Deacon　Johnson　said；　〃are　you　blind？〃
　〃I　suppose；〃　the　man　said。
　〃May　I　ask　how　blind？〃
　〃Depends　what　you　mean。〃
　〃Can　you　see　what　that　billboard　says？〃　Deacon　Johnson　pointed　to　a　big　Toyota　sign　a　quarter…mile　down　the　road。
　The　man　said；　〃Not　hardly。〃
　Deacon　Johnson　held　a　hand　in　front　of　the　man's　face。　〃Can　you　see　that？〃
　The　man　nodded　yes。
　〃Very　good。〃　Thank　God；　Deacon　Johnson　thought。　For　coaching　purposes；　partly　blind　was　perfect。　As　a　telegenic　bonus；　the　man　appeared　sickly　but　not　morbidly　sunken；　like　some　of　the　bums　at　the　soup　kitchen。
　Deacon　Johnson　introduced　himself　and　said；　〃Have　you　heard　of　the　Outdoor　Christian　Network？〃
　〃Yes；〃　the　blind　man　said。
　〃Then　you've　heard　of　the　Reverend　Charles　Weeb；　how　he　heals　people　on　national　television？〃
　〃I　watch　no　television。〃
　〃Yes；　I　understand；　but　at　least　have　you　heard　of　Reverend　Weeb's　healings？　The　reason　I　ask；　he's　having　one　today。　Right　here；　inside　this　gate。〃
　〃A　healing。〃
　〃On　live　satellite　television；〃　Deacon　Johnson　said。　〃Would　you　be　interested？〃
　The　man　toyed　with　his　beard。
　〃For　five　hundred　dollars；〃　Deacon　Johnson　said。
　〃And　would　I　be　healed？〃
　〃Let　me　say；　Reverend　Weeb　gets　excellent　results。　With　the　Lord's　help；　of　course。〃　Deacon　Johnson　circled　the　blind　man　and　assessed　his　camera　presence。　〃I　think　the　Lord　would　probably　like　us　to　shave　you；〃　he　said。　〃And　possibly　cut　your　hair…the　braid　could　be　a　distraction。〃
　The　blind　man　raised　a　middle　digit　in　front　of　Deacon　Johnson's　face。　〃Can　you　see　that？〃　he　said。
　Deacon　Johnson　chuckled　weakly。　〃I　underestimated　you；　sir。　Let's　make　it　a　thousand　dollars。〃
　〃For　a　thousand　bucks　I　take　a　shower；〃　the　blind　man　said；　〃that's　all。〃
　When　the　man　stood　up　he　towered　over　Deacon　Johnson。　He　pulled　on　a　flowered　plastic　cap　and　smoothed　it　flat　over　his　skull。　Then；　with　thick　callused　fingers；　he　pinched　Deacon　Johnson's　elbow　and　held　on。
　〃Lead　the　way；〃　the　blind　man　said。
　
　The　instant　the　other　bass　boats　roared　away；　Al　Garcia　felt　sure　that　he　and　Jim　Tile　would　be　drowned；　that　the　roiling　wakes　would　swamp　the　wooden　skiff　and　it　would　sink　upside…down；　trapping　them　both　in　a　cold　underwater　pocket。
　This　did　not　happen。　The　skiff　proved　not　only　stable　but　also　dry。　It　was；　however；　maddeningly　slow…made　even　slower　by　the　sloshing　heft　of　the　Igloo　cooler；　which　was　filled　with　fresh　Lake　Jesup　water　especially　for　Queenie。　That；　added　to　the　considerable　weight　of　the　two　men；　the　tackle；　the　gas　tank；　the　lunchboxes；　the　anchor；　and　the　bait　（several　pounds　of　frozen　Harney　County　shiners；　Queenie's　favorite）　was　almost　too　much　for　the　tired　little　six…horse　Mercury　to　push。
　Garcia　puttered　down　the　canal　on　a　straight　course　for　Lunker　Lake　Number　Seven。　With　one　hand　he　steered　the　engine。　With　the　other　he　idly　trolled　a　fishing　line　baited　with　a　misshapen　jangling　monstrosity　of　a　lure。　〃Looks　like　an　elephant　IUD；〃　Garcia　had　told　the　perky　but　unappreciative　sales　rep　who'd　given　it　to　him　on　the　dock。　〃Maybe　one　of　Cher's　earrings。〃
　It　was　a　long　slow　ride；　and　the　rhythmic　drone　of　the　outboard　eventually　brought　on　drowsiness。　Garcia　was　half…dozing　when　something　jolted　his　hands；　he　opened　his　eyes　to　see　the　tip　of　the　fishing　rod　quiver　and　dip。　Remembering　what　Skink　had　taught　him；　he　jerked　twice；　solidly；　and　a　stubborn　tug　answered　at　the　end　of　the　line。　Without　much　effort　the　detective　reeled　in　his　catch；　a　feisty　black　fish　no　more　than　twelve　inches　long。
　Jim　Tile　said；　〃I　believe　that's　a　baby　bass。〃
　〃I'll　be　damned；〃　said　Al　Garcia。　〃Throw　him　in　the　cooler。〃
　〃What　for？〃
　〃So　we　can　show　the　governor　we　got　one　fair　and　square。〃
　〃It's　awfully　small；〃　Jim　Tile　remarked；　releasing　the　bass　into　the　Igloo。
　〃A　fish　is　a　fish；〃　the　detective　said。　〃e　on；　Jimbo；　get　in　the　goddamn　tournament　spirit。〃
　Then　the　engine　quit；　coughed　twice；　spit　blue　smoke；　and　died。　Al　Garcia　removed　the　cowling　and　tinkered　fruitlessly　for　ten　minutes；　then　traded　places　so　the　trooper　could　give　it　a　try。
　Jim　Tile　repeatedly　pulled　the　starter　cord；　but　the　Mercury　showed　no　sign　of　life。　After　the　tenth　try；　he　sat　down　and　said；　〃Damn。〃
　The　wooden　skiff　hung　motionless　in　the　canal；　not　another　bass　boat　in　sight。
　〃We　got　a　long　ways　to　go；〃　Garcia　said。
　On　a　hunch；　Jim　Tile　disengaged　the　fuel　line　and　sniffed　the　plug。
　〃Something's　wrong；〃　he　said。
　Garcia　winced。　〃Don't　tell　me　we're　out　of　gas。〃
　Jim　Tile　hoisted　the　heavy　aluminum　fuel　tank　and　unscrewed　the　lid。　He　peered　inside；　then　put　his　nose　to　the　hole。
　〃Plenty　of　gas；〃　he　said　dismally；　〃only　somebody's　pissed　in　it。〃
　
　The　night　had　taken　a　toll　on　both　of　them。
　Catherine　felt　gritty　and　cramped　from　being　curled　in　the　trunk　of　the　car。　Her　knees　were　scuffed　and　her　hair　smelled　like　tire　rubber　from　using　the　spare　as　a　pillow。　She　had　cried　herself　to　sleep；　and　now；　in　the　white　glare　of　morning；　the　sight　of　Thomas　Curl's　pistol　made　her　want　to　cry　again。　Thinking　of　Decker　helped　to　hold　back　the　tears。
　Curl　himself　had　deteriorated　more　than　Catherine　had　thought　possible；　short　of　a　or　death。　He　could　no　longer　move　his　right　arm　at　all；　the　muscle　was　as　black　and　dead　as　the　dog　head　that　hung　from　it。　Gunk　seeped　from　Curl's　eyes　and　nose；　and　overnight　his　tongue　had　bloomed　swollen　from　his　mouth；　like　some　exotic　scarlet　fruit。　On　the　boat　he　practically　ignored　Catherine；　but　murmured　constantly　to　the　rictal　dog　while　stroking　its　petrified　muzzle。　By　now　Catherine　was　used　to　everything；　even　the　smell。
　Thomas　Curl　had　been　drinking　ferociously　since　before　dawn；　and　she　surmised　that　this　alone　had　kept　the　pain　of　infection　from　consuming　him。　He　drove　the　boat　slowly；　steering　with　his　knees　and　squinting　against　the　sun。　They　passed　several　fishermen　on　the　canal；　but　apparently　none　could　see　the　pistol　poking　Catherine's　left　breast。　If　they　noticed　the　pit　bull's　head；　they　didn't　let　on。
　〃I'm　a　rich　man；　Lucas；〃　Thomas　Curl　said　to　the　dog。　〃I　got　enough　money　for　ten　of　these　speedboats。〃
　Catherine　said；　〃Tom；　we're　almost　there。〃　She　felt　the　muzzle　of　the　gun　dig　harder。
　〃Lucas；　boy；　we're　almost　there；〃　Thomas　Curl　said。
　With　this　announcement　he　threw　himself　against　the　throttle　and　the　Starcraft　shot　forward；　plowing　aimlessly　through　a　stand　of　thick　sawgrass。　Catherine　let　out　a　cry　as　the　serrated　stalks　raked　her　cheeks；　drawing　blood。　The　boat　broke　out　of　the　matted　grass；　leapt　the　water；　and　climbed　a　mudbank。　The　prop　stuck　hard；　and　there　they　sat。
　〃This　is　the　place；〃　Thomas　Curl　declared。
　〃Not　quite；〃　Catherine　said。
　〃He'll　find　us；　don't　you　worry；〃　Curl　said。　〃He's　got　a　nose　for　your　little　pussy；　I　bet。〃
　〃Cute；〃　Catherine　said。　〃You　ought　to　work　for　Hallmark；　writing　valentines。〃
　She　used　the　hem　of　her　skirt　to　dab　the　cuts　on　her　face。　Half…staggering；　Curl　got　himself　out　of　the　boat。　The　pistol　was　still　in　his　good　hand。
　〃Don't　bother　with　the　leash；〃　he　said　to　Catherine。
　〃Right；〃　she　said。　There　was　no　leash；　of　course。　She　climbed　out　of　the　beached　Starcraft　and　instantly　cursed　Thomas　Curl　for　not　letting　her　wear　any　shoes。
　While　she　stooped　to　pick　the　nettles　from　her　feet；　Curl　cocked　his　head　and　cupped　an　ear　with　his　gun　hand。　〃What　is　it？〃　he　said　excitedly。
　〃What　is　what？〃　Catherine　asked；　but　he　wasn't　speaking　to　her。
　〃What　is　it；　boy？〃
　Somewhere　in　the　deep　rotting　bog　of　Thomas　Curl's　brain；　his　dog　was　barking。　Curl　dropped　to　a　crouch　and　lowered　his　voice。
　〃Lucas　hears　something　in'；〃　he　said。
　Catherine　heard　it　too。　Her　heart　raced　when　she　spotted　R。　J。　Decker；　hands　in　his　pockets；　walking　along　the　bank　of　the　canal。
　She　waved　and　tried　to　shout；　but　nothing　came　out。　Decker　waved　back　and　grinned；　the　way　he　always　did　when　he　hadn't　seen　her　for　a　while。　Grinned　like　nothing　was　wrong；　like　no　gangrenous　madman　was　jabbing　a　loaded　pistol　into　Catherine's　nipple　while　shouting　at　a　severed　dog　head　on　his　arm：　〃Heel；　boy；　heel！〃
　〃Easy；　Tom；〃　said　R。　J。　Decker。
　〃Shut　up；　fuckhead。〃
　〃Did　we　get　up　on　the　wrong　side　of　the　bed？〃
　〃I　said　shut　up；　and　don't　e　no　closer。〃　Decker　stood　ten　feet　away。　Jeans；　flannel　shirt；　tennis　shoes。　A　camera　hung　from　a　thin　strap　around　his　neck。
　〃You　remember　the　deal；〃　he　said　to　Curl。　〃A　straight…up　trade：　Me　for　her。〃
　〃What　kind　of　deal　you　offer　Lemus？〃
　Decker　said；　〃I　didn't　shoot　your　brother；　but　I　will　say　he　had　it　ing。〃
　〃So　do　you；　fuckhead。〃
　〃I　know；　Tom。〃
　R。　J。　Decker　could　see　that　something　was　monstrously　wrong　with　Thomas　Curl；　that　he　was　a　sick　man。　He　could　also　see　that　something　ghastly　had　happened　to　Curl's　right　arm；　and　that　this　might　be　a　cause　of　his　distress。
　Decker　said；　〃That　a　dog；　Tom？〃
　〃The　hell　does　it　look　like？〃
　〃It's　definitely　a　dog；〃　Catherine　said。　〃A　pit　bull；　I　believe。〃
　〃I　used　to　know　a　dog　like　that；〃　Decker　said　affably。　〃Lived　in　my　tr