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Show Jeffries, Section 3, Page 107 "Yeah but those people out there, the rangers, the lighthouse--" "Nothing." They'd tried to clear east to escape the hurricane surge. They lacked a mile of Pedro's Dock and a small stone hurricane tower. Dory stood with the parson where the water w a s backing up into Whale Harbor. Heard even above the wind, and the exploding trees, from out in the bay, a sharp, cracking noise. And then it was the Inlaws, come running. He heard their little trotting sound up on the boardwalk. "Something scared them," Dorian said, "something spooked them. . ." "Matthew 8:28!" the parson was shouting. With wild eyes, Chester White, the first of them, spilled into the sea. "Your porcine friends! Surely these are the Gadarene! The poor devils, what I mean is these swine-don 't you see they've come rushing down here to die?" And now a pair of the women, Big Dick, and Grandpa hurrying on his walker. Something had stampeded them. Dorian Clayton thought of a print he'd seen of Holman Hunt's Scapegoat. Driven out and away and into a harsh saline landscape by the Dead Sea. Certainly the artist had achieved a poignant representation of unfairness |