Chapter 62

A gunshot goes off out front. Hands rise instinctively in the air. I grab a towel and rush past two people doing a merengue. Not a good caza between them. A small crowd is standing in the driveway in soggy sombreros and sarongs with donkey prints. Under the streetlight, I see Frank’s one entrepreneurial failure. It’s the wiener van.

Max and a security guard come across the lawn. It must be Max’s friend, Zack. Two people immediately assume the position up against the fence. Max and Zack are obviously stoned. I cut them off at the front of the house. “Hey, Sam,” Max says. “We got the wiener van started.”

“How?”

“Zack made a call. His brother’s a mechanic. It only cost us an ounce. Pretty cheap, considering. Even got a license plate—”

“Where the hell’s your car?”

“Ruby’s got it. Zack doesn’t drive, so we had to make do.”

A line is forming by the wiener van. People want hot dogs. They’ve already eaten ten platters of tamales and enchiladas.

“Why did you bring it here, Max?”

“I thought I’d see if Muller had any brownies left.”

“Not now, for chrissake.”

Muller comes out in a Mexican towel. “Everyone’s hiding behind the cabana, Sam,” he says.

“Why?”

“Someone saw a cop. Is that the wiener van?”

“Are there any more brownies, Muller?” Max says.

“I’ve got another pan in the oven.”

“Give me enough for Otis and Margot at least, Sam,” Max says.

“Then you’re clearing out, right?”

“No problem. We’ll be off in a jiffy.” Max and Zack follow Muller over to my place.

I return to the pool. Everyone’s slowly coming out from behind the cabana. Judy and Mary have disappeared. Riley’s on the pool steps with a margarita in each hand. “Where’s Mary and Judy?” I ask.

“Inside with Pam.”

I go inside, stepping over people, seeing a piñata open and disemboweled on the floor. Candies are everywhere. Someone’s already slipped, leaving skid marks across the linoleum. The living room’s full of women dancing in Mexican blankets. “Hey, Sam,” Pam waves, boobs bouncing.

“Where’s Mary and Judy?”

“They were here a minute ago. Check the bedrooms.”

I find them in in the master bedroom looking out the window. “There’s a giant wiener out there, Daddy.”

“Eso es un gran pedazo de carne,” Mary giggles.

“It’s the wiener van,” I say.

“That old thing,” Mary laughs. “I’ve seen better.”

“Mom! God, you’re blitzed. Look at your eyes.”

“Look at your eyes. Look at everybody’s eyes. Your father has beady little eyes. Beady, beady, beady.”

Judy looks at me. “They are beady.”

“That’s cause he’s a fibber.”

“I thought you said Flipper,” Judy laughs.

“You can’t lie to me, Sam.”

“I’m not trying to lie to you, Mary.”

“Make sure you don’t.”

“Absolutely,” Judy giggles

“Watch him,” Mary says. “I’m going for another drink.”

“We’re coming with you,” Judy says.

Out in the hall, Pam pulls us into a rumba chain. Blankets drop, feet stumble over toppled margarita glasses. Someone’s thrown down a sombrero and they’re dancing around it. I inch along the wall, checking the front window. People are banging on the side of the wiener van. “Damn you, Max,” I say.

Someone does a header into the fridge. Outside, the yard is complete pandemonium. Naked bodies wander around in a daze, Tiki lights wobble. Next to the pool, a line of people is spread-eagled against the fence. Zack’s patting down Riley. “Hey, Sam,” Riley says. “How’s it going?”

“He’s not a cop, you know,” I say.

“I don’t mind.”

Someone squeals and bumps into me. I feel myself going back, lanterns and red crepe streamers pass before my eyes, water rushes into my ears. A body lands on top of me with a familiar voice saying, “Urumph!”

When I open my eyes again, I’m lying next to the pool with people staring down at me. Then I see a pair of big lips surrounded by dripping black curls coming towards me. Muller’s giving me mouth to mouth.