“Which way?” T.T. asked as she pulled out onto Gary Street.
“Let’s go down to the dock, you know, off Canal. I love looking at the river. We’ll walk on Belle Island,” Unique replied in her tiny, hushed voice as her Purpose, as she thought of it, throbbed inside her and a slow burn of ancient rage began to consume her brain.
Minutes later, she and T.T. got out of the Honda and stood along the water, the chilled September air blowing
Unique’s hair like black fire. There wasn’t another person around and it vaguely penetrated Unique’s spell that T.T. was incredibly stupid to wander off with a perfect stranger, and how dare she just assume that Unique was of her persuasion and would be interested. How incredibly stupid the other ones had been, too. Unique took T.T.’s hand and they walked over a footbridge that led to Belle Island, where Union soldiers had been imprisoned during the Civil War. The island was densely wooded and cut with bike paths and trails. Unique pulled T.T. behind a tree and began to kiss and fondle her into a frenzy. “I want you to have a unique experience,” Unique whispered as she dug her tongue in T.T.’s mouth and slipped a box cutter out of a pocket.
Three
Major Trader had served in the Crimm administration long enough to realize several things. First, the governor did indeed have a lot on his mind and was therefore easily persuaded to endorse a policy or suggestion that differed from his original conception. Second, as if he weren’t already confused and almost blind, he was forgetful and easily distracted, especially if his bowels acted up. Third, Trader was best served if he stole good ideas and blamed other people for bad ones.
As Trader sat in his office, looking out the window at Macovich’s cloud of smoke retreating across the graceful Capitol grounds, he considered the governor’s positions on various agendas and reminded himself that Crimm had been pounded repeatedly for transportation problems throughout the Commonwealth. Traffic continued to be impossibly congested and motorists were getting increasingly hostile in northern Virginia. Roads and bridges were falling apart. Trains did not always run on time or at all and were overcrowded, and nobody liked to fly anymore. The governor was blamed for all of it and more.
Although Trader did not intend to give Macovich credit for warning him about the people of Tangier, Trader was certain that the governor’s latest notion about speed traps on the island was going to be met with stinging resentment, and it was therefore probably best to give someone else the credit. He jotted some quick notes on a pad of paper, wondering what the new initiative should be called. He tried Speed Check Aviation Regulation but decided SCAR wasn’t quite what he was looking for, but he was rather pleased with SCARE, which could be an acronym for Speed Check Aviation Regulation Emergency. Yes, he thought, that could work very well. SCARE would make the governor’s point about scaring people into behaving, and Emergency hinted to the public that the governor believed that stopping speeders on Tangier Island and elsewhere was a matter of life and death. No matter what Trooper Truth leaked about pirates, the public wouldn’t pay any attention, because citizens would be in a lather about speed traps. Trader tried the governor’s private line.
“Yes?” Crimm sounded weak and bleary.
“I think I’ve come up with something. How would SCARE work for you?” Trader tapped his pen on his notepad. “It certainly sends the message you want. Just imagine SCARE painted on signs across the Commonwealth.”
Crimm’s rump was raw. He was shaky and soaked in cold sweat, and as he tried to remember what he and Trader might have talked about right before Crimm’s terrible gastrointestinal eruption, all the governor could piece together was something about Trooper Truth’s riddle.
“You mean, scare him into revealing his true identity?” The governor sat down in his big leather chair, picked up the magnifying glass, and discovered a new pile of memos and news clips. “Now where did those come from?”
“Where did what come from? You mean the SCARE signs?” Trader was befuddled, which was fairly routine when he talked to the governor.