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open.
 Boss, that dog fucker shot me.
 Curtis? The older white guy?
 No. Japanese dog fucker. Kimi drew his finger across his scalp in a
line and Tuck knew exactly who he meant.
 What were you doing, Kimi? I told you that I d check on Sepie and meet
you. Tuck felt a pleasant numbness moving into his limbs. This kava stuff
would definitely do the trick.
 You didn t come. I worry for her.
 I had to fly.
 Sarapul say those people very bad. You should come live here, boss.
 Be quiet. Drink this. He held the jug to Kimi s lips and tipped it up.
The navigator took a sip and Tuck let him rest before administering another
dose.
 That stuff nasty, Kimi said.
238 / Christopher Moore
 I m going to stitch you up.
The navigator s eyes went wide. He took the jug from Tuck and gulped
from it until Tuck ripped it out of his hands.  It won t be that bad.
 Not for you.
Tuck grinned.  Haven t you heard? I ve been sent here by Vincent.
 That what Sarapul say. He say he don t believe in Vincent until we
come, but now he do.
 Really?
Sarapul came through the door with an armload of supplies.  I don t
say that. This dog fucker lies.
Tuck shook his head.  You guys were made for each other.
Sarapul set down a sewing kit and a bottle of peroxide, then crouched
over the navigator and looked up at Tuck.  Can you fix him?
Tuck grinned and grabbed the old cannibal by the cheek.  Yum, Tuck
said.
 Sorry, Sarapul said.
 I ll fix him, Tuck said. Silently he asked for help from Vincent.
 I can t feel my arms, Kimi said.  My legs, where are my legs? I m dy-
ing.
Sarapul looked at Tuck.  Good, he said.  More kava.
Tuck picked up the jug, now only a quarter full.  This is great stuff.
 I m dying, Kimi said.
Tuck rolled the navigator over on his side.  Kimi, did I tell you I saw
Roberto?
 See, I didn t eat him, Sarapul said.
 Where? Kimi asked.
 He came to my house. He talked to me.
 You lie. He only speak Filipino.
 He learned English. Can you feel that?
 Feel what? I am dying?
 Good, Tuck said and he laid his first stitch.
 What Roberto say? He mad at me?
 No, he said you re dying.
 I m dying, I m dying, Kimi wailed.
 Just kidding. He didn t say that. He said you re probably dying. Tuck
kept Kimi talking, and before long the navigator was so convinced of his
approaching death he didn t notice that Tucker Case, self-taught incompet-
ent, had completely stitched and dressed his wounds.
50
Don Quixote at the Miniature Golf
Course
He was sleeping, dreaming of flying, but not in a plane. He was soaring
over the warm Pacific above a pod of hump-back whales. He swooped in
close to the waves and one of the whales breached, winked at him with a
football-sized eye, and said,  You da man. Then the whale smiled and
blew the dream all to hell, for while Tuck knew himself to indeed  be da
man and while he didn t mind being told so, he also knew that whales
couldn t smile and that bit of illogic above all the others broke the dream s
back. He woke up. There was music playing in his bungalow.
 Dance with me, Tucker, she said.  Dance with me in the moonlight.
The smooth muted horns of  Moonlight Serenade filled the room from
a portable boom box on his coffee table. Beth Curtis, wearing a sequined
evening gown and high-heeled sandals, danced an imaginary partner
around the room.  Oh, dance with me, Tucker. Please.
She glided over to the bed and held her hand out to him. He gave her
the coconut man s head, rolled over, and ducked under the sheet.  Go
away. I m tired and you re insane.
She sat on the bed with a bounce.  You old stick in the mud. A pouty
voice now.  You never want to have any romance.
Tuck feigned sleep. Pretty well, he thought.
 I brought champagne and candles. And I made cookies.
This is me sleeping, Tuck thought. This is exactly how I behave when I
sleep.
 I twisted up a joint of skunky green bud the size of your dick.
 I hope you got help carrying it, he said, still under the covers.
240 / Christopher Moore
 I rolled it on the inside of my thigh the way the women in Cuba roll ci-
gars.
 Don t tell me how you licked the paper.
She slapped him on the bottom.  Come on, dance with me.
He rolled over and pulled the sheet off his face.  You re not going to go
away, are you?
 Not until you dance with me and have some champagne.
Tuck looked at his watch.  It s five in the morning.
 Haven t you ever danced till dawn?
 Not vertically.
 Oh, you nasty boy. Coy now, as if anything short of being caught at
genocide could make her blush. The song changed to something slow and
oily that Tuck didn t recognize.
 This is such a good song. Let s dance. She swooned. She actually [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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