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The static that came roaring out of the...Thursday, January 28, 2010
The static that came roaring out of the Mercedes's four speakers this time seemed as loud as a jet fighter's engine Even with my palm over one ear, it ripped through my headI thought I heard Wireman yell, but I wasn't sure Jack pushed the power button again and the hellish blizzard of noise cut out"I think we should skip the tunes," he said "Wireman? All right?" My voice seemed to be coming from far away, through a steady low ringing noise ix Jack might have made it a little way beyond the point where Ilse got sick; maybe notIt was hard to tell once the growth got highThe road narrowed to a stripe, its surface humped and buckled by the roots running beneath itThe foliage had interlaced above us, blotting out most of the skyIt was like being in a living chanel shopping purse tunnel 936 The windows were rolled up, but even so, the car was filling with a green and fecund jungle smell Jack tested the old Mercedes's springs on a particularly egregious pothole, thumped up over a ridge in the pavement on the far side, then slammed to a stop and put the transmission in PARK "I'm sorry," he saidHis mouth was quivering and his eyes were too big"I'm-" I knew perfectly well what he was Jack fumbled open the door, leaned out, and vomitedI'd thought the smell of the jungle (that's what it was once you were a mile past El Palacio) was strong in the car, but what came rolling in with the door open was ten times headier, thick and green and viciously aliveYet I did not hear a single bird calling in that mass of junk foliageThe only sound was Jack cheap mulberry handbags losing his breakfastAt last he collapsed back against the seatHe thought I looked like a snowbird again? That was sort of funny, because on that early afternoon in mid-April, Jack Cantori was as pale as March in MinnesotaInstead of twenty-one, he looked a sickly forty-fiveIt must have been 937 the tuna salad, Ilse had said, but it hadn't been the tunaSomething from the sea, all right, but not the tuna "I'm sorry," he said"I don't know what's wrong with meThe smell, I guess - that rotten jungle smell-" His chest hitched, he made a gurk sound deep in his throat, and leaned out the door again That time he missed his hold on the steering wheel, and if I hadn't grabbed him by the collar and yanked him back, he would have gone sprawling face-first into his own whoop He women gucci handbags leaned back, eyes closed, face wet with sweat, panting rapidly "We better take him back to El Palacio," Wireman said"I don't like to lose the time - hell, I don't like to lose him - but this **** ain't right "As far as Perse's concerned, it's exactly right," I saidNow my bad leg was itching almost as much as my armIt felt like electricity"It's her little poison beltHow about you, Wireman? How's your gut?" 938 "Fine, but my bad eye - the one that used to be bad - is itching like a bastard, and my head's kind of hummingProbably from that damn radio "It's not the radioAnd the reason it's getting to Jack and not to us is because we've beenSort of ironic, isn't it?" Behind the wheel, Jack groaned "What can you do for him, muchacho? Anything?" "I think so I had my hermes birkin 35cm pads on my lap and my pencils and erasers in a belt-packNow I flipped to the picture of Jack and found one of my art-gum erasersI took away his mouth and the lower arcs of his eyes, all the way up to the cornersThe itching in my right arm was fiercer than ever, and I actually had no doubt that what I planned to do would workI summoned up the memory of Jack's smile in my kitchen - the one I'd asked him to give me while thinking of something particularly good - and drew it quickly with my Midnight Blue pencilIt took no more than thirty seconds (the eyes were really the key, when it comes to smiles, they always are), 939 but those few lines changed the whole idea of Jack Cantori's face And I got something I hadn't expectedAs I drew, I saw him kissing a girl in a louis vuitton diaper bag tote biki

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