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[10]
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[9]
The plan was to save the turtle.
If Adelita was carrying eggs that were descended from Ka Rae TahNuk,
the entire world could be at risk. The people who wanted Ka Rae set
free were everywhere. They had also lived on the island for
generations. They felt they had a bond with the turtles and a right
to their revenge.
"There it goes again," Johnny thought. Just thinking about
turtles reminded him of the group, and the song "Happy
Together" started playing in his mind. "I can't see me
lovin' nobody but you for all my life." There was a girl like
that once. He couldn't see himself lovin' nobody but her. It had
been 13 years and he still felt the same, or he thought so. Her name
was Sara. She was tall, great legs, long blonde hair and big brown
eyes.
"Johnny! Hey guy! Earth to
John!" Johnny looked around and said, "No matter how they
toss the dice, it had to be."
Sara, dear sweet beautiful Sara. She had disarmed him the moment he
laid eyes on her. She was so pretty. A natural pretty. Not made up
or fake. She had wanted to be a marine biologist. He wondered if she
ever made it.
That was then, this was now and he was in love with Natalie. He just
didn't know how to tell her. He knew she would be shocked, or at
least he thought so. But there was a chemistry between them. He knew
their relationship could become very serious, very fast.
Johnny had to snap back to the present and think about the turtle,
her eggs and the impending storm. How was he going to save it all?
Where would they be taking the sea turtle? How much time was left?
What he really needed was a pocket-sized miracle. Johnny didn't know
it, but that was just exactly what he was going to get.
It came in the form of a hurricane.
[10]
It was seven by the time Natalie and
Johnny had reached the dock and hired a ferry. Neither had
eaten anything since they'd gulped breakfast down that morning, so
they decided to stop by in one of the many cafés lining the street
and have a bite to eat while waiting for Reardon to catch them up at
eight.
Johnny was the first to notice the
Ray Café. The name was sprawled above the door in gaudy green
letters. A large, lopsided gray kite with two red eyes and a
tarnished crown sitting at a rakish angle on its pointy head was
painted on the door.
Natalie squinted suspiciously at the
monstrosity, and then shook her head sadly. "Just look at
that, will you?" she sighed dolefully, "the tail is
completely out of proportion! And sting rays most certainly do
not have teeth of that sort. That grin is perfectly demonic!
It looks like some sort of emblem for a freaking cult of black magic
practitioners or something. Honestly!"
Johnny drew a sharp breath and turned
to face his colleague. "Natalie," he breathed,
"keep your voice down, will you?" He gave her a
tight smile, and then took her arm brightly. "Well, Emma,
how would you like to stop for a bite to eat in the Ray Café?
You look stressed, and this might be just the break you need."
Natalie glanced at Johnny
quizzically, and then put on the fakest smile she could manage.
"Sure, Ed!" she gurgled before adding under her breath,
"I just hope they serve live sea turtle."
Natalie declined to open the door
after glancing at the doorknob, which hopefully had been bronze in a
former life, but looked a sickly shade of pale green in this one.
Johnny, ever eager, grabbed an old sheet of newspaper from off the
street and, wrapping it around his hand, gingerly pushed open the
door.
The first thing to strike Johnny
about the Ray Café was the total silence. The second thing
was a frying pan. As Johnny slumped against the door frame,
Natalie, backing away for fear that his weight might bring the
entire edifice crashing down, pulled out her gun.
A small man grinned out from behind
Johnny. He carried about him various cooking utensils of
different sizes, as much hair as a bald eagle, and a smell that
might have killed one. Natalie staggered backwards, wondering
if bathing was out of fashion in these parts. The stout
creature, undaunted, stepped forward and extended an egg beater.
Natalie grasped it in complete confusion and shook it.
"Well, my girl, it seems you
have hit upon the secret of the thing. Or perhaps, the secret
of the thing has hit yer partner?" He emitted a high-pitched
giggle which completely belied his bedraggled appearance, and
beckoned for Natalie to follow him.
"Oh, and put that piece o' metal
down, my dear. It won't do you a whiff o' good. Not that
you'd be wantin' a whiff of anythin' 'round here, judging from yer
face!" Again he laughed gleefully, and led the way into
the café.
Switching on the solitary light in
the establishment by means of a cord in the corner of the room, the
man turned to Natalie and with a flourish of his hand made a deep
bow in her direction. His eyes flashed mockingly as he
introduced himself: "Peter Greyan at yer service. Though
my friends call me Banjo."
Natalie's eyes widened at the
implication, but she kept her mouth shut. Banjo didn't seem to
miss a thing, because the corners of his mouth crooked upwards.
"I see you've noticed the smell 'bout the place. You see,
my dear, alla us here know that water is the true weakness o' man.
He can kill anythin' he darn well wants ta, but water...he's got no
control over that. Now out here near tha water, it ain't no
big deal, but in the middle of tha state, it can get mighty
precious. That's right, it's like diamonds to the ranchers and
such out there, it is. Man has conquered all tons o' stuff,
but water just don't seem to listen."
Natalie could scarcely contain her
excitement as she heard Banjo talk. She remembered that water
had been Ka Rae TahNuk's weakness, and wondered if she had stumbled
headfirst, or nose-first most likely, into the very cult she had
been looking for.
She could hear a faint moaning coming
from outside, and suddenly remembered Johnny. Relieved that her
partner was alive, but worried about what such a collision might
have done to his head, she strode to where he lay sprawled on the
rickety porch. As she knelt down to unpack her first aid kit,
she heard a zinging sound from behind her. Out of years of
training, she ducked. She knew that the only purpose turning
around could serve was to enable her to see the projectile before it
knocked her unconscious. As she slowly twisted her neck to see
who had thrown the missile, she smelled a large group of the
filthiest, vilest beings imaginable. All of their teeth were
either gone or going, and their mouths looked like miniature
war-zones between the gaping gums and the yellow-gray tooth-matter,
if it could be called such. They were all covered in the same
grimy rags which adorned their Irish buddy and Banjo.
Every single one had tortoise shells
on their heads as helmets, as useless in that capacity as in an
Endangered Banjo, each carried a holster with a small shotgun, and
each of them carried a small metal banana.
To be continued….
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