It’s
been a while since we took a look at THE
ZOZOBRA INCIDENT, so I thought we’d visit the novel again for this post. I
had fun writing the book – and I’m convinced that’s the way it should always be
for an author. It isn’t, of course. I’ve written books that were difficult and
stressful in the birthing process. But not ZOZOBRA
or THE BISTI BUSINESS, for that
matter.
I chose the following passage (the opening
of Chapter 7, Page 68) because we meet a new character at this point, and I
like the way BJ looks at her. I also like the mental musings over a mural in
his country club’s foyer that depicts Albuquerque’s founding in 1706 and the
loss of the extra “A” in the city’s spelling. In my own head, I hear BJ toying
with the word “foyer,” and believe him to be sophisticated enough to pronounce
it “foi(a),” and plebeian enough to
say “foi(yer).”
At any rate, he’s just received a warning
to drop the case he’s pursuing that includes a death threat, and it’s pissed
him off. Let’s take a look.
*****
Still steaming
over some thug believing he could intimidate me, Thursday morning, I handed
over the blackmailer’s envelopes and notes, along with Del’s fingerprint card
to Gloria McInnes, who looked down her thin-bridged nose at me like an English
blueblood. She wasn’t. She was born and raised in the little community of
Algodones north of Albuquerque and was as common as shoe leather. I often
wondered at the ribald jokes she must have endured after fifteen years of
working in a place called K-Y Lab. The joint was named after its founders, Sol
King and Jacob Young, not the water-soluble gel that prompted erotic reactions
in countless giggling teenagers and horny young adults. I asked her to print
me, as well, because I had handled the envelope before tumbling to what it was.
I wanted her to test the documents for whatever forensic evidence they might
contain.
“Hmm,” she ran a
casual eye over the crude death threat. “Somebody’s getting personal.”
“Yeah, and that
was his mistake. I’m going to get the bastard.”
“And I’ll bet you
do. Okay, BJ, I’ll run a prelim for you, but I’ll need 48 hours. Of course, if
I pick up DNA I’ll need some extra time, but I’ll give you what I can Monday
afternoon.”
“I need it a
little quicker.”
“Saturday’s the
best I can do.”
“Didn’t know you
were open on Saturday.”
“Just for you,
sweetheart. Give me until about 6 o’clock that afternoon, okay?”
With that promise,
I set off for 3301 Juan Tabo Blvd. NE, which was, indeed, a Ship-n-Mail store
in a strip mall of the kind architects call decorated sheds. There I ran into a
stone wall. The thin-chested teenaged clerk refused, under penalty of law, he
claimed, to reveal any information about the box holder. There was nothing to
do but plan on spending Saturday hunkered down in the parking lot to wait for
someone to pick up Del’s envelope.
Stymied for the
moment, I headed for the country club. On the way, I used the hands-free phone
to call Charlie and ask him to check out Belinda Gerard. He had nothing to
report on the Royal Crest yet, but said he was working on it.
The summer day was
chilled by the monsoon system that usually arrived in July or August to deliver
a fair portion of our nine and a half inches of annual rainfall. As the thunder
and lightning cooperated by hovering to the west over Mt. Taylor, one of the
Navajos’ four sacred mountains, I braved the elements and swam for a while,
hoping Paul would show up to relieve the youth occupying the lifeguard’s chair.
He didn’t.
On my way out, I
paused to view the mural in the club’s foyer. Done in the primitive style of
Diego Rivera, it portrayed the founding of the Villa de Alburquerque in 1706
with the arrival of twelve families from the military compound of Bernalillo a
few miles up the Rio Grande. It took us over 150 years to lose the second “R”
in the city’s name. The dark earth tones of the mural failed to work their
usual magic. My spirit remained troubled.
That changed when
Paul answered my phone call to his dorm later that evening and agreed to come
over. He showed up at my place around nine, and gave my morale a much-needed
boost.
*****
As
always, thanks for reading.
New Posts are
published at 6:00 a.m. each Thursday.
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