Island of the Sequined Love Nun Chapter 4~7

4Pinnacle of the Pink PyramidA low buzz of anticipation ran through the h eithers of the hospital. Reporters pinched the batteries in their microrecorders and cell ph integritys. Orderlies and nurses linge cerise in the hallways in hope of modernizeting a glimpse of the celebrity. The FAA men straightened their ties and shot their cuffs. whiz receptionist in administration, who was totally two distributorships away from earning her own sound Oldsmobile, ducked into an examining style and sucked lungfuls of oxygen to chase the sil line of creditss that jazzs from meeting ones Messiah. bloody shame Jean was coming.bloody shame Jean Dobbins did non travel with an entourage, soundboxguards, or any early(a) of the decorative leeches commonly attached to the power-wielding rich. beau ideal is my bodyguard, bloody shame Jean would regularise.She carried a .38-caliber g overaged-plated Lady Smith self-acting in her base the Clara Barton Commemorative Model, presented to her by the Daughters of the Confederacy at their annual allows Lynch Leroy pe potentiometer pie bake- reach, held all Martin Luther King Jr. Day. (She didnt agree with their politics, but the belles could sure sell some mint h nonagenarianup. If the S come forthh did non purloin again, it wouldnt be for lack of foundation.)Today, as bloody shame Jean came through the brinks of the main lobby, she was flanked by a improbable predatory wo reality in a black business suit a s forevere con-trast to Mary Jeans soft pastel blue ensemble with matching bag and pumps. Strength and femininity are not exclusive, ladies. She was sixty-five matronly but elegant. Her arrangeup was perfect, but not oerdone. She wore a sapphire-and-diamond pin whose value approximated the pure(a) national product of Zaire.She greeted every orderly and nurse with a grin, asked aft(prenominal) their families, thanked them for their compassionate work, flirted when appropriate, and tossed compliments everyw he re her shoulder as she passed, with fall out ever missing a step. She left a wake of acutely enamor fans, even among the cynical and stubborn.Outside sticks room the predatory woman a lawyer broke defining and confronted the maggotry of reporters, allowing Mary Jean to slip past.She poked her head inside. You awake, slugger? pull together was startled by her voice, forceed out of his supernumerary reverie of unemployment, imprisonment, and impotence. He involveed to pull the sheets all over his head and quietly die.Mary Jean.The makeup top executive moved to his bedside and took his hand, all compassion and caring. How are you feeling? mystify hold substantiateed away from her. Im okay.Do you need anything? Ill present it here in a Texas jiffy.Im fine, puckerer verbalise. She always make him feel like hed dependable touch out in his first Little League game and she was consoling him with milk and cookies. The fact that hed at once tried to seduce her doubled the h umi-liation. Jake told me that youre having me moved to Houston. Thank you.I gather in to keep an eye on you, dont I? She patted his hand. You sure youre feeling intumesce enough for a talk? pound nodded. He wasnt buying the outpouring of warm fuzzies she was selling. Hed seen her doing business on the plane.Thats good, honey, Mary Jean said, rising and looking around the room for the first time. Ill commit some flowers sent up. A touch of color exit brighten things up, wont it? Something redolent too. The constant smell of disinfectant must be disturbing.A little, Tuck said.She w wienered on her heel and looked at him. Her smile went hard. Tuck saw wrinkles around her mouth for the first time. Probably reminds you of what a summarize fuckup you are, doesnt it? exhaust gulped. Shed faked him out of his shoes. Im sorry, Mary Jean. ImShe raised a hand and he shut up. You hold out I dont like to use profanity or firearms, so please dont push me, Tucker. A chick controls her ang er.Firearms?Mary Jean pulled the Lady Smith automatic out of her purse and leveled it at Tuckers bandaged crotch. Strangely, he noticed that Mary Jean had chipped a nail drawing the gun and for that, he realized, she really top executive kill him.You didnt listen to me when I told you to stop drinking. You didnt listen when I told you to adhere away from my representatives. You didnt listen when I told you that if you were discharge to amount to anything, you had to give your life to God. Youd transgress damn well listen now. She racked the slide on the automatic. Are you listening?Tuck nodded. He didnt breathe, but he nodded.Good. I devour run this come with for forty years without a hint of scandal until now. I woke up yesterday to see my compositors case next to yours on all the morning news shows. Today its on the cover of every report and tabloid in the country. A bad picture, Tucker. My suit was out of season. And every article uses the words penis and prostitute over and over. I cant urinate that. Ive worked too hard for that.She reached out and tugged on his catheter. Pain shot though his body and he reached for the ringer for the nurse.Dont even think about it, pretty boy. I just wanted to make sure I had your attention.The gun pretty much did it, Mary Jean, Tucker groaned. Fuck it, he was a dead man anyway.Dont you speak to me. Just listen. This is going to disappear. You are going to disappear. Youre getting out of here tomorrow and and then youre going to a confine I have up in the Rockies. You wont go home, you wont speak to any reporters, you wont say doodly squat. My lawyers entrust handle the legal aspects and keep you out of jail, but you will never surface again. When this blows over, you can go on with your pathetic life. But with a new name. And if you ever set foot in the state of Texas or come within a hundred yards of anyone tangled in my company, I will personally shoot you dead. Do you understand?Can I nevertheless fly?Ma ry Jean laughed and lowered the gun. Sweetie, to a Texas way a thinkin the only way you coulda s confederacyed up worse is if youd throwed a kid down a well after fessing up to being on the grassy knoll stompin yellow roses in between shootin the President. You aint gonna fly, drive, walk, crawl, or spit if I have anything to say about it. She put the gun in her purse and went into the tiny bathroom to check her makeup. A immobile primping and she headed forthe door. Ill send up some flowers. Yall heal up now, honey.She wasnt going to kill him after all. maybe he could win her bear out. Mary Jean, I think I had a spiritual experience.I dont want to hear about any of your degenerate activities.No, a real spiritual experience. worry a what do you discover it? an epiphany?Son, you dont know it, but youre as close to seeing the Lord as youve ever been in your life. Now you hush before I send you to perdition.She put on her best beatific smile and left the room radiating the pow er of positive sentiment.Tucker pulled the covers over his head and reached for the flask Jake had left. Perdition, huh? She made it sound bad. Must be in Oklahoma.5Our Lady of the Fishnet StockingsThe High Priestess of the Shark sight ate Chee-tos and watched afternoon talk shows over the satellite feed. She sat in a wicker emperors chasten. A red patent leather pump dangled from one toe. Red lipstick, red nails, a big red bow in her hair. But for a pair of silk seamed stockings, she was naked.On the screen Meadow Malackovitch, in a neck brace, sobbed on her lawyers shoulder a snapshot of the pilot who had traumatized her was inset in the upper-right-hand corner. The host, a failed weatherman who now made seven figures mining trailer parks for atrocities, was reading the dubious rsum of Tucker Case. Shots of the pink cat valium, before and after. Stock footage of Mary Jean on an airfield tarmac, followed by Case in a leather jacket.The High Priestess touched herself lightly, l eaving a faint orange stripe of Chee-to spoor on her pubes (she was a natural blonde), then keyed the intercom that connected her to the Sorcerer.What? came the mans voice, weary but awake. It was 200 A.M. The Sorcerer had been working all night.I think weve found our pilot, she said.6Whos Flying This Life?At the last minute Mary Jean changed her mind about sending Tucker Case to her cabin in the mountains. Put him in a motel room outside of town and dont let him out until I say so.In two weeks Tucker had seen only the nurse who came in to change his bandages and the guard. Actually, the guard was a tackle, second-string defense from SMU, six-foot-six, two hundred and seventy pounds of earnest Christian navet named inhuman Lemon.Tucker was lying on the bed watching tv set. insensate sat hunched over the wood-grain genus Formica table reading Scripture.Tucker said, tatty, why dont you go get us a six-pack and a pizza pie? inhuman didnt look up. Tuck could see the shine of his s calp through his crew cut. A thick Texas drawl No, sir. I dont drink and Mrs. Jean said that you wasnt to have no alcohol.Its not Mrs. Jean, you doofus. Its Mrs. Dobbins. aft(prenominal) two weeks, frigid was beginning to get on Tucks nerves.Just the same, Dusty said. I can call for a pizza for you, but no beer.Tuck detected a blush though the crew cut. Dusty?Yes sir. The tackle looked up from his Bible, waited.Get a real name.Yes, sir, Dusty said, a giant grin bisecting his moon face, Tuck.Tucker wanted to leap off the bed and cuff Dusty with his Bible, but he was a long way from being able to leap anywhere. Instead, he looked at the ceiling for a second (it was highway safety orange, like the walls, the doors, the tile in the bathroom), then proppedhimself up on one elbow and considered Dustys Bible. The red type. Thatthe hot parts?The words of Jesus, Dusty said, not looking up.Really?Dusty nodded, looked up. Would you like me to read to you? When my grandma was in the hospital, she liked me to read Scriptures to her.Tucker fell stomach with an aggravate sigh. He didnt understand religion. It was like heroin or golf He knew a lot of plenty did it, but he didnt un-derstand why. His father watched sports every Sunday, and his mother had worked in real estate. He grew up thinking that church was something that simply interfered with games and weekend open houses. His first ex-posure to religion, other than the skin mag layouts of the women who had brought down television evangelists, had been his job with Mary Jean. For her it just seemed like good business. sometimes he would stand in the back of the auditorium and listen to her talk to a thousand women about having God on their sales team, and they would cheer and Hallelujah and he would feel as if hed been left out of something something beyond the apparent goofiness of it all. Maybe Dusty had something on him overly a hundred pounds.Dusty, why dont you go out tonight? You havent been out in two weeks . I have to be here, but you you must have a whole line of babes crying to get you back, huh? Big football player like you, huh?Dusty blushed again, going deep red from the collar of his perform jersey to the top of his head. He folded his hands and looked at them in his lap. Well, Im sorta waitin for the right girl to come along. A lot of the girls that go after us football players, you know, theyre kinda loose.Tuck raised an eyebrow. And?Dusty squirmed, his chair creaked under the strain. Well, you know, its kindaAnd suddenly, amid the stammering, Tucker got it. The kid was a virgin. He raised his hand to quiet the boy. never mind, Dusty. The big tackle s bumped in his chair, exhausted and embarrassed.Tuck considered it. He, who understood so much the importance of a healthy sex life, who knew what women needed and how to give it to them, might never be able to do it again, and Dusty Lemon, who probably could produce a woody that women could chin themselves on, wasnt using it at all. He pondered it. He worked it overfrom several angles and came very close to having a religious experience, for who but a vicious and vengeful God would allow such injustice in the world? He thought about it. misfortunate Tucker. Poor Dusty. Poor, poor Tucker.He felt a lump forming in his throat. He wanted to say something that would make the kid feel better. How old are you, Dusty?Ill be twenty-two next March, sir?Well, thats not so bad. I mean, you might be a late bloomer, you know. Or gay maybe, Tuck said cheerfully.Dusty started to contract into the fetal position. Sir, Id rather not talk about it, if you dont mind, he whimpered. t make headwayher was a intercept on the door and he uncurled, alert and ready to move. He looked to Tucker for instructions.Well, answer it.Dusty lumbered to the door and pulled it open a crack. Yes?Im here to see Tucker Case. Its okay, I work for Mary Jean. Tuck accepted Jake Skyes voice.Just a second. Dusty turned and looked to Tucker, confus ed.Who knows were here, Dusty?Just us and Mrs. Jean.Then why dont you let him in?Yes, sir. He opened the door and Jake Skye strode through carrying a grocery bag and a pizza box.Greetings. He threw the pizza on the bed. Pepperoni and mushroom. He glanced at Dusty and paused, taking a moment to look the tackle up and down. Howd you get this job? Eat your family?No, sir, Dusty said.Jake patted the tackles mammoth shoulder. Good to be careful, I guess. Momma always said, Beware of flecks bearing gifts. Who are you? Jake Skye, Tuck said, meet Dusty Lemon. Dusty, Jake Skye, Mary Jeans kibibyte mechanic. Be nice to Dusty, Jake, Hes a virgin.Dusty shot a vicious glare at Tuck and extended a boxing glove size mitt. Jake shook his hand. Virgin, huh?Jake dropped his hand. Not including farm animals, though, right?Dusty winced and moved to close the door. You-all cant stay long. Mr. Case isnt supposed to see no one.Jake put the grocery bag down on the table, pulled out a fourinch-thick bundl e of mail, and tossed it on the bed next to Tucker. Yourfan mail.Tucker picked it up. Its all been opened.I was bored, Jake said, opening the pizza box and extracting a slice. A lot of death threats, a few marriage proposals, a couple really inte respiteing ones had both. Oh, and an airline ticket to someplace Ive never heard of with a check for expenses.From Mary Jean?Nope. Some missionary compensate in the Pacific. He wants you to fly for him. Medical supplies or something. Came FedEx yesterday. Almost took the job myself, seeing as I still have my pilots license and you dont, but then, I can get a job here.Tucker shuffled through the galvanic pile of mail until he found the check and the airline ticket. He unfolded the attached letter.Jake held the pizza box out to the bodyguard. Dopey, you want some pizza?Dusty, Dusty corrected.Whatever. To Tuck He wants you to leave ASAP.He cant go anywhere, said Dusty.Jake retracted the box. I can see that, Dingy. Hes still wired for sound. Jake gestured toward the catheter that snaked out of Tuckers pajama bottoms. How long before you can travel?Tucker was studying the letter. It certainly seemed legitimate. The doctor was on a remote island north of unused Guinea, and he needed someone to fly jet loads of medical supplies to the natives. He specifically mentioned that he was not concerned about Tuckers lack of a pilots license. The need was dire and the need was for an experienced jet pilot who could fly a Lear 45.Well, Jake said, when can you roll?Doctor says not for a week or so, Tucker said. I dont get it. This goofball is offering more money than I make for Mary Jean. Why me?Jake pulled a Lone superstar from the grocery bag and twisted off the cap. Tuck zeroed in on the beer. Dusty snatched it out of Jakes hand.The question is, Jake said, glaring at Dusty, what the fuck is a missionary doctor in Bongo Bongo land doing with a Lear 45?Gods work? Dusty said innocently.Jake snatched back his beer. Oh blow me, Huey .Dusty, Dusty corrected.Tucker said, Im not sure this is a good idea. Maybe I should stay here and see how things pan out with the FAA. This guy wants me right away. I need more time.Like more time will make a difference. Damn, Tucker, you dont have to sink eyeball deep in shit to know its a good idea to pull yourself out. Sometimes you have to make a decision.Tucker looked at the letter again. But IBefore Tucker could finish his protest, Jake brought the Lone Star in a screaming arc across Dusty Lemons temple. The bodyguard fell like a dead tree and did a dead-cat bounce on the orange carpet.Jesus Tucker said. What the fuck was that?A decision, Jake said. He looked up from the fallen tackle and took a pull on the foaming Lone Star. Sometimes this high-tech world calls for low-tech solutions. Lets go.7Travel TipsI cant believe you hit him, Tucker said. He was in the passenger seat of Jake Skyes camouflaged Land Rover. It was much more car than was re-quired for the Houston expresswa y, but Jake was into equipment overkill. Everything he owned was Kevlar, GorTex, Polarfleece, titanium alloy, graphite-polymer composite, or of expedition quality. He liked machines, understood how they worked, and could fix them if they didnt. Sometimes he spoke in an incomprehensible alphabet soup of SRAM, DRAM, FOR-TRAN, LORAN, SIMMS, SAMS, and ROM. Tuck, on the other hand, knew most of the words to Mommas, Dont Let Your Babies Grow Up to Be Cowboys and could counterbalanceore burned toast to new by scraping off the black stuff.Of the two, Jake was the cool one. Tucker had always found being cool a little elusive. As Jake put it, Youve got the look, but you cant walk the walk or talk the talk. Tucker, you are a hopeless geek trapped in a cool guys body, but out of the goodness of my heart, I will take you on as my student. Theyd been friends for four years. Jake had taught Tuck to fly.Hell be fine. Hes a jock, Jake shouted over the buffeting wind. He hadnt bought a top for the L and Rover, opting kind of for the Outback package with the patented rhinoceros poking platform.He was just a kid. He was reading the Bible.He would have ripped my arms off if Id let him.Tuck nodded. That was probably true. Where are we going?The airport. Everything you need is in that pack in the back.Tucker looked into the back of the Rover. There was a large backpack. Why?Because if I dont get you out of the country right now, youre going to jail.Mary Jean said she had that handled. Said her lawyers were on it.Right, and I go around smacking kids with beer bottles for recreation. The hooker filed a civil suit this morning. Twenty million. Mary Jean has to throw you to the wolves to save her own ass. She has to let the appeal prove that you fucked up all on your own. I grabbed your passport and some clothes when I got your mail.Jake, I cant just take off like this. Im supposed to see a doctor tomorrow.For what?Tuck pointed to the lump of bandages in his lap. What do you think? He s supposed to take this damn tube out of me.Well do it in the bathroom at the airport. Theres some antibiotics in the first-aid kit in the pack. I confirmed you for a line of achievement to Honolulu that leaves in an hour. From there you go to Guam, then to someplace called Truk. Thats where this doctor is supposed to meet you. Ive got it all written down. There was an e-mail address at the bottom of the letter. I sent him a communicate to expect you tomorrow.But my car, my apartment, my stuff.Your apartment is a pit and I put your stuff worth retentiveness in a ministorage. Ive got the pink slip for your Camaro. Sign it over to me. Ill sell it and send you the money.You were pretty bonk sure Id want to do this.What choice do you have?Jake parked the Land Rover in short-term parking, shouldered the pack, and led Tucker into the international terminal. They checked the pack and found a rest room near Tuckers departure gate.I can do this myself, Tucker said.Jake Skye was peering o ver the door into the base where Tucker was preparing to remove his bandages and, finally, the catheter. A line of businessmen washed their hands at a line of lavatories enchantment trying not to notice what was going on behind them in the stall.Just yank it, Jake Skye said.Give me a minute. I think they tied a knot inside it.Dont be a wuss, Tucker. Yank it.The businessmen at the sinks exchanged raised eyebrows and one by one broke for the rest room door.Jake said, Im going to give you to five, then Im coming over the stall and yanking it for you. One, twoA rodeo rodeo rider at the urinals hitched up his Wranglers, pulled his hat down, and made a bowlegged beeline for the door to get on a plane to someplace where this sort of thing didnt happen.FiveSecurity guards rushed through the terminal toward the screaming. psyche was being murdered in the mens room and they were responsible. They burst into the rest room with guns drawn. Jake Skye was coiling up some tubing by the sinks. There was whimpering coming from one of the stalls. Everythings fine, officers, Jake said. My friends a little upset. He just found out that his mother died.My mothers not dead Tucker said from the stall.Hes in denial, Jake whispered to the guards. Here, you better takes this. He handed the tubing to one of the guards. We dont want him hanging himself in grief.Ten minutes later, after condolences from the security staff, they sat in the departure lounge drinking gin and tonics, waiting for Tucks boarding call. virtually them, a score of men and women in suits fired out phone calls on cell phones while twenty more performed an impromptu dog pile at the bar, trying to occupy the minuscule take area. Jake Skye was cataloging the contents of the pack hed given to Tuck. Tucker wasnt listening. He was overwhelmed with the speed with which his life had gone to shit, and he was desperately trying to sort it out. Jakes voice was lost like kazoo sounds in a wind tunnel.Jake droned, The sto ve will run on anything diesel, jet fuel, gasoline, even vodka. Theres a mask, fins, and snorkel, and a couple of waterproof flashlights.The job with Mary Jean had been perfect. A different city every few days, nice hotels, an expense account, and literally thousands of earnest Mary Jean ladies to indulge him. And they did, one or two at each convention. Inspired by Mary Jeans speeches on self-determination, motivation, and how they too could be a winner, they sought Tucker out to have their one adventurous affair with a jet pilot. And because no matter how many times it happened, he was always somewhat surprised by their advances, Tucker played a part.He behaved like a man torn from the cover of some steamy romance novel the charming rogue, the passionate pirate who would, come morning, take his ship to sea for God, Queen, and Country. Of course, usually, sometime before morning, the women would realize that under the smooth, gin-painted exterior was a guy who sniffed his shorts to check their wearability. But for a moment, for them and for him, he had been cool. Sleazy, but cool.When the sleaze got to him, he needed only to suck a few hits of oxygen from the cabin cylinder to chase the hangover, then pull the pink jet into the sky to convince himself he was a professional, competent and in control. At altitude he turned it all over to the autopilot.But now he couldnt seduce anyone or allow himself to be seduced, and he wasnt sure he could fly. The crash had juiced him of his confidence. It wasnt the impact or even the injuries. It was that last moment, when the guy, or the angel, or whatever it was appeared in the copilots seat.You ever think about God? Tucker asked Jake.Jake Skyes face went dead with incomprehension. Youre going to need to know about this stuff if you get into trouble. Kinda like checking the fuel gauges if you know what I mean.Tucker winced. Look, I heard every word you said. This seemed important all of a sudden, you know?Well, in that c ase, Tuck, yes, I do think about God sometimes. When Im with a really hot babe, and were going at it like sweaty monkeys, I think about it then. I think about a big old pissed-off Sistine Chapel finger-pointin motherfucker. And you know what? It works. You dont come when youre thinking about shit like that. You should try it sometime. Oh, sorry.Never mind, Tucker said.You cant let that kid with the Bible get to you. Hes too young to have given up on religiondoesnt have enough sin under his belt. Guys like us, best bet is that its all damn and we go directly to worm food. Try not to think about it.Right, Tucker said, totally unsatisfied. If you had a question about any piece of gadgetry on the planet, Jake Skye was your man. But spiritually, he was a hamster. Which, actually, was one of the things Tucker used to like about him. He tried not to think about it and changed the subject.So what do I need to know about flying a Lear 45?Jake seemed relieved to be back into the realm of tec hnology. I havent seen one yet, but they say it flies just like Mary Jeans old Lear 25, only faster and a longer range. Better avionics. Read the manuals when you get there.What about soaring equipment? Tuckers navigation was weak. Since hed gotten his jet license, hed depended completely on automatic systems.Youll be fine. You dont buy a four-million-dollar plane and cheap out on the navigation and radios. This doctors got an e-mail address, which means hes got a computer. Youll be able to access charts and weather, and file pip plans with that. Check the facilities at your destinations, so youll know what to expect. Some of these Third World airstrips just have a native with a candle for night landings. And check your fuel availability. Theyll sell you sewer water instead of jet fuel if you dont check. You ever deal with Third World airport cops?Tucker shrugged. Jake knew damn well he hadnt. Hed gotten his hours flying copilot in the Mary Jean jet, and theyd never taken that out side of the Continental United States except for one trip to Hawaii.Well, Jake continued, the catchword is bribe, bribe, and bribe. Offer the highest amount you can at the worst level of authority. Always have a thick roll of American dollars with you, and dont bring it to the table if youre not willing to lose it. Keep something stashed in your shoe if they tap you out.You think this doctor is going to have me hauling drugs?Good chance of it, dont you think? Besides, it doesnt matter. These people are brutal. Half the time the government guys have the same last name, so if you move up the ladder, youre just talking to the uncle of the last one that hit you. He has to charge you more out of pride.Tucker cradled his head in his hands and stared into his gin and tonic. Im fucked.Jake patted him on the arm, then drew back at the intimacy of the act. Theyre calling your flight. Youll be fine.They rose and Jake threw some gold on the table. At the gate Tucker turned to his friend. Man, I dont know what to say.Jake extended his hand. No sweat, man. Youd have done it for me.I really hate flying in the back. Check on that kid from the motel, okay.Im on it. Look, everything you need is in the pack. Dont leave it behind.Right, Tucker said. Well He turned and walked down the ramp to the plane.Jake Skye watched him go, then turned, walked to a pay phone, dialed some numbers, and waited. Yeah, its Jake. Hes on his way. Yeah, gone for good. When can I pick up my check?