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L e
“What’s happening?” said Le
Ca
“We better get moving,” said Serge. They drove to the mainland and hit three grocery stores, but the story was the same. They kept driving around.
“We’re in luck!” said Serge, pointing. “The video store’s still open.”
Le
The place was empty, and the pair had their pick of movies. Serge grabbed Palmetto, Strip Tease, Out of Sight, The Mean Season, Ruby in Paradise, Body Heat, Some Like It Hot and Key Largo.
“This is great!” said Serge. “All Florida, from camp to classic.”
They jumped in Le
“I smell panic,” said Serge. “These are different animals now. They’re starting to wi
“Affirmative,” said Le
They tooled along the Gulf Coast, bobbing their heads to the radio, riding the now.
Serge suddenly bolted up in his seat, and tremors made high-frequency waves in his cheeks. Spitfoam bubbled at the corners of his mouth.
“What’s wrong?” Le
Serge looked like he might be swallowing his tongue, so Le
Serge returned to normal and looked around as if he had been rudely awakened.
“What was that?” asked Le
“Flashback.”
“ Vietnam?”
“No. The Garo Yepremian pass.”
Le
“The game was in the bag!” said Serge. “Fourteenzip in the fourth quarter-I was dick-dancin’ on broken glass…”
“We still won,” said Le
Serge reached in his pocket and pulled out the crack vial that had stored his street tranquilizers. “I’m all out.”
“You want me to try to find a drug hole or maybe break into a veterinary clinic?”
“No way,” said Serge. “This is the only way to experience a natural disaster-throw a little schizophrenia in the soup.”
As they drove, they saw plywood up everywhere. A few people sat outside in chairs and cradled rifles and shotguns, ready for the early-bird looters. It was getting lonely and eerie, like one of those bad sixties sci-fi movies Serge had seen as a child, life after the nuclear war.
Some people had spray-painted the numbers of their insurance policies on the plywood. Others wrote messages directed at the hurricane itself: “Go away, Rolando-berto!”
“Who’s picking the names for these storms?” said Le
There were no other cars anymore, and Serge and Le
W hen Le
“You think something’s going on we haven’t heard about?” asked Le
“No way,” said Art Tweed, pointing back at the bar. “We’ve had the TV on all day. They would have said something.”
So all they did was close the shutters on the windward side and devote themselves to the haste of drinking that accompanies inclement weather at a tropical resort.
An hour later, however, they could ignore the signs no longer. They were faced with the most accurate predictor yet of hurricane landfall.
The surfers showed up.
30
Today the hurricane arrived.
Events stacked up fast, and suddenly it was too late.
It began dark, breezy and chilly. Looked awful but no serious wind yet. Then, in the span of a minute, a stinging rain came onshore and the shallow area of the beach began to roil with whitecaps. The wind increased unevenly. It moved onto land in a series of body-punching gusts. People can brace and still walk against a steady wind, but the sudden bursts caught a dozen guests at Hammerhead Ranch between buildings and made them stumble like they were drunk.
The surfers were swept out to sea, cheering with delight.
Le
All the sedans’ doors opened at once, and a platoon of G-men in mirror sunglasses jumped out. Dark suits, white shirts, wires ru
“We’re looking for Le
“You found him.”
Le
“Where’s our moon rock?” They stuffed him inside the lead sedan and drove away.
The wind increased.
Some motel guests jumped in cars and tried to get off the island, but the bridges were barricaded and it was a challenge getting back, their cars pushed sideways lane to lane. A power line popped loose and snaked and sparked at a bus stop. The windshield wipers couldn’t keep up with the load, and the faint outline of large objects started moving across the road. A blow-up kiddie pool sailed in front of a car like a flying saucer. The cloth awning from the entrance of a pizza restaurant came off, aluminum frame and all, and tumbled across Gulf Boulevard. Crazy stuff suddenly appeared out of the blinding rain, plastered on the windshields. Shoe insole, Turkish menu, colostomy bag, Hemingway.
One of the guests missed the driveway and struck a sign support at Hammerhead Ranch. He jumped out of the car, left it ru
Zargoza and his men stacked steel desks along the western side of the boiler room, trying not to show fear. City and Country hid in their closet. The International Olympic Committee was jammed into another room, praying in a symphony of tongues. Art Tweed stood in an open doorway, watching the storm approach, not afraid to die.