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Show Jeffries, Section 3, Page 61 Morning. A bird is taking the short lateral course over Islamorada. "Sa'aggua!" yells the dervish, pointing up, "al-quadus!" "That's good," Dory yells, "calling him the bucket, calling the bird the old name, but the pelican only appears to be carrying the water. . ." Hours later they were playing to a crowd. There was a muezzin in the lighthouse. Well it was true then that the Pooh-bah was trying out Islamorada. Federal marshall Effman was watching the situation closely. He had rolled a newspaper tight, like something to smack a dog with, but Dory had read the subhead on the Herald: Pooh-bah Seeks Key Parcel. "There was a time. . ."Effman remembered, "when an arab of substance could summer in the Lebanese highlands. . ." "It will present some interesting changes," Dory said, "if we're made over into the Pooh-bah's private island." "Ramifications. There's the possibility of the closing of U.S. One, Key West again to be isolated, these charter fishermen will be cleared out, I see dhows in the harbor. . ." "God is great. . .God is great," A sound truck wired up into their minaret crackled out a call to prayer. The muezzin was extolling something up there and the arabs had their faces on the ground and Dory Clayton was trying to imagine a holy city, far across the water. |