The mirror examination had become a ritual to make sure that his penis and testicles were not shrinking, as Churrito had warned they would. Pedro Luz had become worried when his security-guard uniform had gotten baggy in the crotch, so every night he took a measuring tape and checked his equipment. Then he would leaf through some pornographic magazines to make sure he could still get a hard-on; on some evenings, when he was particularly anxious, he would even measure the angle of his erection.
On the night he went after Joe Winder, the angle was exactly zero degrees. Pedro Luz blamed it on the beer.
Inside the trailer, Winder finished typing another counterfeit press release, which said:
The widow of a young scientist killed at the Amazing Kingdom of Thrills has been offered a settlement of $2.8 million, officials of the popular amusement park have announced.
The payment would be made in a single installment to Deborah Koocher, age 31, of New York. Her husband, Dr. William Bennett Koocher, was a noted wildlife biologist who helped supervise the Endangered Species Program at the Amazing Kingdom. Dr. Koocher died two weeks ago in a tragic drowning at the park’s outdoor whale tank. That incident is still under investigation.
Charles Chelsea, vice president of publicity, said the cash offer to Mrs. Koocher “demonstrates our sense of loss and sorrow over the untimely death of her husband.”
Added Chelsea: “Will was instrumental in our rare-animal programs, and his heroic efforts to save the blue-tongued mango vole won international acclaim.”
In a statement released Sunday morning, Francis X. Kingsbury, founder and chairman of the Amazing Kingdom, said that Dr. Koocher’s death “was a tragedy for all of us at the park. We had come to love and admire Will, who was as much a part of our family as Robbie Raccoon or Petey Possum.”
The $2.8 million settlement offer is “a gesture not only of compassion, but fairness,” Mr. Kingsbury added. “If Dr. Koocher’s family isn’t satisfied, we would certainly consider increasing the payment.”
Joe Winder reread the announcement, inserted the word “completely” before “satisfied,” and fed the paper into the fax machine. He considered phoning Nina again, but decided it was no use; the woman was groping recklessly for male companionship. What else could explain her irrational attraction to a disembodied masculine voice?
Besides, Joe had Carrie now—or she had him. The dynamics of the relationship had yet to be calibrated.
Winder was in the mood for acoustic guitar, so he put on some Neil Young and fixed himself four eggs, scrambled, and two English muffins with tangerine marmalade. Glancing out the kitchen window, he noticed a tow truck parked crookedly on the shoulder of the dirt lane. He didn’t see a driver.
The shower had been running for some time. Winder cracked the door and saw Skink curled in a fetal snooze, cold water slapping on the blaze weather suit. Winder decided not to wake him.
Suddenly he heard a pop like a car backfiring, and a hole the size of a nickel appeared in the tile six inches above Skink’s face. Then came another bang, another hole.
Joe Winder yelled and dived out of the doorway.
In a way, Carrie Lanier was glad that the Amazing Kingdom was closed. It meant an extra day to work on her singing, which was still rusty, and to design a new costume for Princess Golden Sun.
Driving back toward the mainland, she couldn’t wait to tell Joe about all the TV trucks and helicopters at the park’s main gate. A reporter from Channel 10 had approached the car and thrust a microphone in her face and asked if she had seen any snakes. Quickly Carrie had improvised a story about a teeming herd—she wasn’t sure it was the right term—slithering across County Road 905 near Carysfort. The fellow from Channel 10 had marshaled his camera crew and sprinted off toward the van.
Carrie was impressed by the immediate and dramatic effect of Joe Winder’s hoax: everyone was wearing sturdy rubber hip boots.
On the way home, she practiced another song from the show.
You took our whole Indian nation, Stuck us on this reservation. Took away our way of life, The garfish gig and the gator knife. Seminole people! Seminole tribe!