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Show 16, Jeffries, Islamorada [Section 2] "Well it ain't much to look at. But the rents down here, you get a figure that sounds not too bad for a month, but it's for a week-- if I could just board at the houses, like Ichabod "--the seasonal rates, it was sort of a jolt to me. . . "So old lady Lowe's got you there on the cheap, sort of as the caretaker. No let me say as a. . .watchman. Well it's not a bad old motor court. 'Cept for bein' on the route of the death march. What I call the Bataan death march," he laughed. "I don't understand that--" "Ha boy you can't say as I didn't warn you. You'll have the dream, then you'll see the ghosts." Slack water. He made for home along the coral shore. As the tide turned, he slept. And came the dream. Two bells. Dogwatch. Even the whores below had grown quiet. This movement in the dark was like motion in a cathedral and the galleons drifted as if charmed, north, in this queer river-in-the-ocean. At dusk, they'd passed Cayo Hueso, and the line of islands on the left became a necklace of dark shadow. Tortuous and twisted shapes. Los Martires. The Martyrs, old Ponce had called them. As each key dropped on the short horizon, Pablo thought of a holy man. Andrew. |