John D MacDonald - Travis McGee 16 - The Dreadful Lemon Sky

by The Dreadful Lemon Sky(lit)

  Without any conscious thought and without the awareness of any lapse to time, I found myself standing over Hascomb, picking a place right between the eyes.

  Then I realized it would mean I would spend the best years of my life in Bayside, filling out forms and answering questions. He was not going anywhere, but to be safe I took both sets of car keys. I walked all the way to the phone booth beside the gas station, the one Carrie had patronized.

  Eighteen

  A WIND had come up and blown all the smutch into somebody else's sky. Cindy and I sat on the deck chairs on the sun deck, side by side, and looked up at all the diamonds in the sky.

  "You said they found it, Trav, but where was it?"

  "In a box labeled Camp Stove. He was getting ready to go camping. And get lost in the woods. Forever."

  "He said he killed Carrie?"

  "Knocked her cold. Waited for the right kind of traffic and then took her by the crotch and the nape of the neck and slung her into the farm truck."

  I sensed the way she shuddered.

  She said, "I suppose, in a way, some of the money is mine."

  "In a way. But your chances of getting it..."

  "I know. I'll just have to make it anyway."

  "Couldn't you sell out?" "

  Sure. But then what?"

  "What do you mean?"

  "Trav, darling, I like to work. I like to run things. And I like to have security. I've got a hundred thousand mortgage to pay off, and the place is worth ten times that. I am really going to have to pitch in."

  "And I was going to ask you to pack a bag and come cruising."

  "Well... someday, maybe."

  "I gather that you are underwhelmed."

  "Male pride talking. Can't you accept the fact that I'm tied to this place?"

  "And you want to be tied to it."

  "Please. I don't want to fight with you. Please, dear."

  I stretched until my shoulders creaked. "Okay, Cindy. You are very realistic and diligent and all that. Maybe I have a grasshopper philosophy, but it strikes me there are a lot of dead people around here. Given advance warning, they could have done more living."

  "We don't know each other."

  "What does that mean?"

  "I found out from you I'm a more physical person than I thought I was. Okay, so it makes me skeptical of myself and impatient about things. So, being a careful person, I need time. I just can't go mooning and dreaming around here and letting important things slide."

  "Mooning and dreaming are very good stuff."

  "Sure, sure, sure. We really don't know each other at all. And I am a drone. A worker. A builder. Maybe I can learn to play someday. But I have to have something solid, all built, before I'll dare. Please understand."

  I gave up. I lifted her hand up and opened it and kissed the palm. She shivered. I said, "Give me a call when you get all your ducks in a row. When you feel like getting acquainted."

  "Could you call me?"

  "I suppose so. Why?"

  "It's very strange to feel so shy about somebody you've been to bed with. But I do."

  "Cindy, I will call you. But when?"

  She inhaled and exhaled deeply, a sign of relaxation and contentment and eventual anticipation.

  "Just try me every once in a while, okay?"

  And it was okay because it had to be. There wasn't any other choice. Sometimes it is a relief not to have a choice. I will have to get Meyer to explain this concept to me.

  The End