NativeTongue

TWELVE

On the morning of July 21, a Saturday, Molly McNamara drove Bud Schwartz and Da

"All you want is files?" asked Bud Schwartz.

"As many as you can fit in the camera bag," Molly said. "Anything to do with Falcon Trace."

Da

"No, it is not," Molly replied. "Not on my time."

She parked in the Cindy-the-Sun-Queen lot and left the engine ru

"What's that all about?" said Da

"In case you get the itch to run away," Molly McNamara said, "I'd feel compelled to send your photographs to the authorities. They are still, I understand, quite actively investigating the theft of the mango voles."

"Pictures," said Bud Schwartz. "That's cute."

Molly smiled pleasantly and told both men to listen closely. "I rented you a blue Cutlass. It's parked over by the tram station. Here are the keys."

Bud Schwartz put them in his pocket. "Something tells me we won't be cruising down to Key West."

"Not if you know what's good for you," Molly said.

Da

Molly said, "You'll do fine. Get in, grab what you can and get out."

"And hope that nobody recognizes us from before." Bud Schwartz arched his eyebrows. "What happens then? Or didn't you think of that."

Molly chuckled lightly. "Don't be silly. No one will recognize you dressed the way you are."

She had bought them complete golfing outfits, polyester down to the matching socks. Da

Bud Schwartz said, "You realize we look like total dipshits."

"No, you look like tourists."

"It's not that bad," agreed Da

"Listen," Molly said again. "When you're done with the job, get in the Cutlass and come straight back to my place. The phone will ring at one sharp. If you're not there, I'm going directly to the post office and mail these snapshots to the police, along with your names. Do you believe me?"

"Yeah, sure," said Bud Schwartz.

She got out of the Cadillac and opened the doors for the burglars. "How is your hand?" she asked Bud Schwartz. "Better let your friend carry the camera bag."

She held Da

As the men hobbled away, Molly called out cheerfully and waved good-bye, as if she were their mother, or a loving old aunt.

With a trace of fondness, Da

"Look at us," said Bud Schwartz. "Real fucking pros."

"Well, at least it's for a good cause. You know, saving them butterflies."

Bud Schwartz eyed his partner in a clinical way. "Da

"A what?"

"Nothing."

The burglars were huffing pretty heavily by the time they made it to the tram. They climbed on the last car, along with a family of nine from Mi

A little girl of about seven turned to Da

"I got shot," he said candidly.

The little girl flashed a glance at her mother, whose eyes widened.

"A tetanus shot," said Bud Schwartz. "He stepped on a rusty nail."

The mother's eyes softened with relief. "Where are you from?" she asked the men.

"Portugal," said Da

"Portugal, Ohio," Bud Schwartz said, thinking: There is no hope for this guy; he simply can't be allowed to speak.

The tiny blond girl piped up: "We heard on the radio that the whale died yesterday. Orky the whale."

"Oh no," said Da

The tram rolled to a stop in front of the main gate, where the burglars got off. Nodding good-bye to the blond Mi

In a gruff tone, Bud Schwartz said, "Portugal? What kind of fuckhead answer is that?"

"I don't know, Bud. I don't know a damn thing about tourists or where they come from."

"Then don't say anything, you understand?" Bud Schwartz got out the money that Molly had given them to buy the admission tickets. He counted out thirty-six dollars and handed the cash to his partner.

"Just hold up one finger, that's all you gotta do," said Bud Schwartz. "One finger means one ticket. Don't say a goddamn thing."

"All right," Da

"Shut up," said Bud Schwartz. "I'm not kidding."

Da

Outside the Magic Mansion, Da

Golf duds and all, Bud Schwartz was antsy about being back on the premises so soon after" the rat-napping; it went against his long-standing aversion to dumb risk. He wanted to hurry up and get the hell out.

It wasn't easy locating Francis X. Kingsbury's office because it didn't appear on any of the colorful maps or diagrams posted throughout the amusement park. Bud Schwartz and Da

"Why don't we ask somebody?" Da

"Very smart," said Bud Schwartz. "I got a better idea. Why don't we just paint the word 'thief' in big red letters on our goddamn foreheads?"

Da

"I never seen so much friendliness," he remarked.

"It's the crutch," said Bud Schwartz.

"No way."

"It's the damn crutch, I'm tellin' you. They're only being nice because they got to, Da