Page 91 - Vol. VI #3

he waits for Viper-Loc and Ricky Starr, espe- cially as several of the residents stumble into the parking lot in their nighties and jammies like a kicked-over ant colony, all confused and shouting while staring in a daze. He sees a nurse pushing one in a wheelchair. Gusts of smoke billow from behind them coughing, squinting, rubbing their eyes.
see the Florida coastline receding on the horizon: a light blue atop a deeper blue-green. The cruise ship’s horn sounds and fills her soul with a gleam- ing gushing golden light. One of the ship’s wait- resses approaches and she orders a daiquiri—a Papa Doble—before dealing out the cards.
Three loud explosions erupt from inside, shaking the building’s frame. The fire spreads.
Not bored taking our money yet, Ms. Goldblatt? one of the players asks, a vice president of some Fortune 500 company that has several other vice presidents and makes billions selling water with vitamins in it. Never get bored taking anyone’s money?
Hot damn! Piju shouts.
Oxygen tanks for the iron lungs, Tony says. You brought the whole house down!
You ever get tired of losing it?
Sparks of fire leap into the trees surrounding the parking lot, igniting the palms with a dazzling rush. Piju hears sirens in the distance and scans the parking lot but doesn’t see O.G. anywhere. The black Mercedes—the one they’d noticed ear- lier—suddenly slides out the parking lot and into the street. Undercover cops, he wonders?
Whoever thought such a sweet-looking old lady could be so ruthless? a blonde woman at the table asks, blowing a wisp of hair from her face. She wears a white bikini top and cut-off jeans. She smiles to let Olivia know she’s only joking.
Deciding they have the right idea, Piju steps out of the booth dragging Tone Def with the nine still against his afro. He shuffles toward his white Oldsmobile but a few of the fogeys shout when they see him, pointing in his direction, and an incensed crowd of them suddenly give chase with mournful fury, surrounding him and beating on his back with scarecrow fists. Piju turns to raise the gun but Brunhildë swats it from his hand.
Olivia grins too, looking down at her hand and thinking of the copy of South Florida Times stowed in her room. The story on page three discussed the arson and attempted armed rob- bery at the Orange Grove Nursing Home, detail- ing how—despite the stroke suffered by Ole
Carl in the parking lot—the only casualties had been poor Elton and Victor Lòpez, a.k.a. Viper Loc, who died of smoke asphyxiation. The other two culprits—Ricky Fuentes, a.k.a. Ricky Starr, and Myung-Ki Lee, a.k.a. Piju Killa—were both apprehended after sustaining multiple injuries. The firemen who entered the Home found Lòpez and Fuentes sprawled in the corridor, heads
I lost all my photobooks!
My Sinatra records!
Get off me, you old geezers! bashed in by what was later identified by police
Piju nearly fights his way loose before a walker as a twenty-pound weight. Olivia was discov- crashes on his back and the world goes dark, and ered nearby, her wheelchair flipped over as she
the last thing he hears are the sirens arriving over moaned.
the fire’s massive roar. According to the article, the two suspects had so
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far upheld their Fifth Amendment Rights, despite the fact that several tattoos mark them both as members of the notorious ICU Gang. Since Olivia was able to hide all the money in the new purse
Cutting a deck of cards, Olivia sits in the shade of
an umbrella table. Three others sit at the table
around her sipping martinis. Faraway, she can (continued on next page)
Wilds aces and one-eyed faces, she says.
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