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"So then someone who really hated Mrs. Betancort.
Enough to go to that kind of trouble. And as Milton Flink said, why bother? Why not wait for weather,
or no water, to drive them away?"
"Sometimes you can't wait," Virgil said. "You know, it's worth whatever it costs to do it right now."
Winnie nodded soberly. "Yeah."
For a time they all ate in silence. No one brought up the problem of a crazy trickster again, Sarah
thought, watching her two beautiful children. What was the use?
East Shasta had its share of eccentrics, including the number one candidate, Mrs. Betancort, but if there
was anyone insane, that person had perfected a method of hiding it.
"I bet it's still there," Winnie said then, her eyes sparkling. "I bet we could find it." "Find what?" Virgil
asked.
"The tape player, tape loop, whatever it was and the contraption that triggered it. I bet it's in those rocks
somewhere."
"Yeah?" Virgil asked, and helped himself to more rice, "then what?"
"Don't know. Just interesting, don't you think?" She tapped her fingers on the table, a typical gesture of
Blaine's; he had not been able to think through deciding on dessert without that motion.
"Look," Winnie said then. "Let's go over there tomorrow or Sunday and look around a little. I want
some more pictures in daylight now that I'm going to do a book, and we can just poke around a little.
You want to come with me?"
That was it, Sarah thought then; Winnie was setting him up because she didn't want to go to Ghost Lake
alone. She watched Virgil consider this, and finally nod.
"Sure," he said. She wanted to congratulate Winnie, but held back, not at all certain her daughter and
son understood what had just happened.
Probably they both would deny the manipulation, she told herself, and thought of the Maslow trinity that
drove people: security, sex, and self-esteem. To say aloud that Winnie had just manipulated her brother
without mercy would hit them both in their self-esteem; they both would have to deny it.
"Sunday," Virgil said then. "We've got fish breeding like crazy, and someone has to be at the tanks to
take out the spawning mats and move them to the nursery tank. If the eggs hatch in the big tanks, the
other fish eat them, mama and papa first in line for the treat.
Tomorrow's my turn, and Carlos will be here on Sunday.
Okay?"
"Sunday," Winnie said. "And tomorrow I'll finish up with the video. I think I see how to edit the tape I
already have." Virgil's expression changed to one of unrelieved misery as Winnie started a long detailed
explanation and Sarah stopped listening. They all knew they had to get that cassette finished and out I to
the stores or the whole venture of franchising garden ponds would fizzle before it was even launched.
While they talked, Sarah rearranged Maslow's three drives to fit the different patterns of life: youth
demanded sex, self-esteem and then security. Middle age needed security, sex, and self-esteem in that
order. And old age? She felt certain self-esteem came first, then security, and as a distant third, sex. She
smiled to herself; eventually she would know enough to be certain, but not yet, and at her place in life,
sex seemed terribly important, right up there with security.
Then she thought that was not right, either. In fact, the three shifted and danced around each other, and
the one that appeared threatened became the one to fight for, to kill for if necessary.
Slowly she put down her fork and lifted her wine and sipped, thinking again that she was missing
something.
Virgil was toying with his food now; she watched the play of tendons on the back of his hand, the play of
muscles in his. arm, and suddenly she was seeing Maria Florinda's arm and hand as she entered the
kitchen of Rosa's house. Maria had been carrying her suitcase, and set it down, then moved it out of the
way. Tell Virgil good-bye, she had said, and Sarah remembered the look of satisfaction that had swiftly
crossed Rosa's face, then vanished. But Maria's hand and arm had not shown any strain; the muscles
had not bulged even a little. The suitcase had been light, so light it required no effort whatever to lift, to
move. Empty, Sarah knew. That suitcase had been empty.
She carried coffee to the veranda after dinner, and sat staring at the water streaked with sunset colors,
trying to make sense of Maria and Rosa and Carlos. Winnie was helping Rosa clean up the dishes; she
had volunteered to help out every evening. Carlos and Virgil were in the office making plans for the
franchise marketing strategy. Hire an expert, she had advised, and they had looked at her blankly and
had gone back to discussing What they should do, the sequence, the timing.
There was not enough money to hire anyone, Virgil had said patiently later. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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