Her father smoothed his hand down over his face as if he were trying to iron the frown off it, but it didnat work. as.h.i.t,a he said. as.h.i.t, s.h.i.t, s.h.i.t.a Suzi stood up and limped over to the ottoman and lowered herself down next to Ava, the only person in the room, in the world, who had no pretense, who wasnat hiding anything, who was always exactly like she appeared to be. She laid her head on Avaas shoulder, smelling the medicinal acne stuff, the most wonderful smell in the world. Please, please donat move away from me, Ava. And instead of scooching away, Ava draped an arm awkwardly around Suzias shoulder. There was an uneasy silence. Suzi tore her gaze away from Nanceas profile and turned it, once again, on her granddad, the accused murderer, who sat there, with a slightly puzzled expression, on the other side of the woman whoad planned to murder him.

aDid you hear that, Granddad?a Suzi burst out. aNance wants to kill you! Doesnat that bother you?a aWanted,a Nance said. aI wanted to kill him.a Granddad said, aWhy would you want to do that?a aYou know why,a Nance snapped at him.

He shook his head. aCanat say as I do.a aIave told him, many times,a Nance said, abut he always forgets.a aHow were you going to kill him?a Ava asked. Leave it to her to focus on the method! How Aspergery. But now that shead asked, Suzi really wanted to know, too.

Nance sighed. aNever could decide.a aSo youare not going to kill him,a said her mother, to the aspiring murderer. aWe donat have to worry about that, do we? My G.o.d.a She sounded ready to cry. aWeave got enough to worry about.a aOh, no, no,a Nance said. aI gave that idea up long ago. I love all of you. I truly do. I just wanted to come clean acause Iam hoping to keep you from doing the same sort of stupid things I did. By hurting your kids Iad hoped to hurt you and Dr. Spriggs, but it all backfired. Please promise me you wonat try to get revenge on Buff. Enough people have been hurt.a aI never wouldave guessed it,a her mother said. aYou seemed so nice.a aNice!a her father spat out. aNot hardly. And Iam not promising anything about not getting even.a aWell,a Nance said to her father. aMaybe thereas some soul-searching you need to do.a She fixed him with a stern look, and he flushed. Her father, the man with a restraining order against him, the one who wanted to strangle two men with his bare hands.

Suzi lifted her head from Avaas shoulder. aWhat about Otis?a Suzi asked, realizing that Otis had been left out of the equation. aWhat were you going to do to him?a aHeas doing enough on his own,a Nance said, but stunned as they all were, n.o.body asked her to elaborate.

aMom,a Ava said. aTravisas birthday party is on Friday. At Alligator Point. He wants me to ride down early with him, on Thursday night. So weall beat the storm.a aGo to the beach when a hurricaneas coming,a Mom said. aWhat kind of sense does that make?a Ava went on a tirade about how important the party was to Travis and how his grandmother had lived at the beach for years and that this would also be a hurricane party and that she would be just fine.

People from Genesis Church started calling their house, talking to Suzias mother, asking her to please come to church on Sunday night with Suzi for a aceremony of healing.a Her father said there was no way in h.e.l.l he was setting foot in that church, and her mother agreed that she felt the same way. Suzi felt that way, too. After all, she was no religious freak.

aTen or twelve people from the church have sent notes, saying theyare sorry,a her mother told her. aWhich is nice, I guess. But what they need to do is put that disgusting pig behind bars.a aWhatas a ceremony of healing?a Suzi asked.

Her mother shook her head. aI imagine a lot of praying is involved. I think they need to do less praying and more castrating.a aPraying never hurt no one,a Suzi told her mother. Suzias grandmother Verna Tommy used to say that.

aOh,a Suzias mother said, and swooped over and s.n.a.t.c.hed up Suzi in a fierce hug that made her eyes water.

Marylou tried to carry on her daily activities as if nothing had changed. But everything had changed. She was no longer working at FTA. After attending church on Wednesday night and finding Buff Coffey up at the pulpit, she decided that shead no longer have anything to do with Genesis Church. She was no longer bent on destroying Wilson and his family. All the oomph had gone out of her. Her days lacked focus. Shead slipped into idle mode.

She took Buster for his five a.m. walk in the coolish air. The birds were unusually quiet. On the news it was all Hurricane Grayson, which had made landfall yet againa"the fourth time for one storm, a recorda"sweeping back from the Atlantic into New Smyrna Beach; and now it was working its sodden, ma.s.sive way west across the Panhandle. It was a slow-moving storm, they said, causing widespread flooding, sp.a.w.ning tornadoes. If her house got flooded, what would she do?

She wished she were back in Memphis. She missed her high-ceilinged house with its tall windows, her hollyhocks by the front door, the moldy-smelling metal glider on her front porch, the urban sounds of her neighborhood, and even her old friendsa"Virginia from church, Gladys from her high school teaching daysa"friends shead lost touch with because shead withdrawn into her protective sh.e.l.l after her second husband of only two years, Martin, died. Why had she done that? She kept hearing her own words echoing in her ears. Revenge just hurts more people. Itas not worth it. Iave hurt people trying to get revenge. Iave hurt you and your family.

But had she really done the hurting? Had it really been her fault that the photographer who took those photos uploaded them on the Internet and Buff saw them? Well, yes, okay, because, as Caroline had said, she shouldave stood up to Mr. Boyle, told him he couldnat take those photos. If they hadnat been taken, none of this wouldave happened. She shouldnat have taken Ava there in the first place. If only she hadnat moved to Tallaha.s.see. If only she hadnat read the article about Wilson on the Internet. If only Martin hadnat been killed in the accident. A semi ran into the back of Martinas Jeep on the interstate, claiming he didnat see the line of cars stopped ahead of him. Turned out later head been smoking pot. The truck driver, not Martin. If Teddy hadnat left her. If Helen hadnat died. If she hadnat gone to the clinic at Memphis University. If Wilson had only realized what the h.e.l.l he was doing by conducting his so-called experiment. If there hadnat been a cold war on to instill wrongheaded thinking throughout the land. If radiation hadnat been discovered by that sick and twisted couple, the Curies. Okay, maybe that was going too far. But even if these things hadnat happened, letas face it, other awful things would have.

Marylou stood with Buster beside a wooded lot and let him sniff around in the dirt. She was so tired. She felt like a limp noodle. This kind of thinking wasnat helping. It just led back into the land of Freeze, where nothing she could do would ever matter. She missed having a sense of purpose, even if it was a malevolent one. Had she really decided that revenge was pointless, the way shead preached to Wilson and his family? It was true: she had no desire to exact revenge on them anymore. They had suffered, but not the way shead intended; and Wilson, the great scientist, was no closer to acknowledging the wrongness of his deeds than he had been when shead first moved here. Suzias suffering, and her familyas suffering, had been pointless.

But maybe, argued her inner Radioactive Lady, the problem was that certain people hadnat suffered enough! A certain person, that is. She gave Busteras leash a sharp tug and he glanced up at her, puzzled, but then seemed to shruga"goofy old ladya"and started ambling along again. Buster was so forgiving. Unlike her. That horrible Ceremony of Healing shead accidentally attended at Genesis Church. Shead gone for regular Wednesday night church, but once there shead gotten a nasty surprise.

That night there were no ministers, no singers, no band, and the cameras werenat even going. The giant screens were blank. There was nothing to look at except a woman playing an organ. aSweet hour of prayer! Sweet hour of prayer! That calls me from a world of care and bids me at my Fatheras throne make all my wants and wishes known.a During the last verse of the hymn, Buff, wearing a dark suit, emerged from a door next to the stage, followed by Paula and Rusty and Angel. aThis robe of flesh Iall drop and rise to seize the everlasting prize aa There was an intake of breath. The organ kept warbling, but most people had stopped singing.

ad.a.m.n,a Marylou said aloud. Shead been missing Suzias company in the seat beside her, even though she knew that Suzi would never be coming back to this church. Why had Marylou thought that she could come back like nothing had happened? Shead a.s.sumed that Buff would surely have resigned in disgrace, but shead underestimated him once again.

Buff strode up onto the stage, and his family scuttled over toward the seats, Paulaas and Rustyas eyes downcast, and Angel, in her motheras arms, looking around curiously. They sat down three rows ahead of Marylou.

Marylou scooted around on her seat cushion, the b.u.t.tons in the fabric biting into her haunches. She wanted to bolt, but she had to see what happened next. She couldnat imagine what Buff was going to say. How could he stand up there, facing them, after what head done? But he did face them, and his face didnat look so hot. There were dark circles underneath his eyes. He looked gray and haggard, like head lost weight. His trousers hung on him. Whereas your big d.i.c.k now, buddy?

Buff opened his mouth and said that head decided not to lie anymore. He talked about how sorry he was, how head hurt so many people, how head let his family and his congregation down, and then he began to sniffle. aIave had a demon inside me for many years,a he said. aIave tried to fight it, but it keeps coming back. Lord, Iave tried to fight it. s.e.xual addiction. Addiction to p.o.r.nography. Please help me, friends. Please help me fight this thing.a aWe will, we will,a said members of the audience.

aFriends, please forgive me. With your help I can beat this thing. With your help and the Lordas help, I can become a whole man again.a aBulls.h.i.t,a Marylou said in a loud voice.

aOh, Lord,a said the elegantly dressed black man sitting next to Marylou, his eyes trained on Buff. aOh, lordy, lordy, please, lord.a Three rows in front of her Paula was sobbing, too, and so was Angel, but Rusty sat there stiff-backed, and Marylou squirmed for all three of them.

But what happened next was even worse. Buff looked around and started picking out people to plead forgiveness of. aForgive me, Danielle.a aI forgive you!a Danielle, whoever she was, burst out.

There was a big upswelling of approval from the congregation.

After that, when he spoke to one of his victims, she answered back that she forgave him. So there were more than four victims. Seven, at least.

Finally, when head run through the list, plucky Paula dashed up on the stage with him, hugged him, and said she forgave him. At least he didnat ask poor little Angel to forgive him. Rusty walked up to the stage, too, but she didnat cry and she didnat hug him and Marylou could tell she wasnat anywhere close to forgiving him. Her mouth was all clenched like she was holding lots in.

Then people in the congregation went up and began hugging Buff and his family and praying with them and laying hands on them, and thatas when Marylou got up and walked out, wishing to G.o.d shead done so earlier.

Buff. The Reverend Buffington Coffey.

Now, walking Buster, she kept replaying that ceremony in her mind, that maudlin, self-pitying display, making it all about him, not his victims, forcing people to aforgivea him just so head feel even less regret about what head done. He had stopped lying and confessed, and that, she guessed, was a good thing; but no doubt head hire some shyster lawyer who would get him off and he wouldnat even lose his job and his family would come back to him and pretty soon head start doing it again, probably to Angel and Rusty along with other peopleas daughters, because that kind of person never stopped, that was a proven fact, much as people wanted to believe otherwise. You can forgive them until the cows come home.

She and Buster were back on her street, and she found herself staring at Buffas two-story house that, in the early morning light, looked like something from a magazine cover: Show Off Your Stunning Split-Level! His wifeas car wasnat there, but his SUV was. He was in there, right this minute. What was he doing? Probably having a good dream about all the people head fooled at that so-called ceremony.

Marylou, with a surge of energy, began walking more briskly toward home, Buster trotting to keep up. Shead been trying to get revenge on the wrong person, that was the problem. Wilson had done something awful, monstrous even, had caused deaths and disfigurements, but in a way, he himself had been brainwashed by the cold war mentality. And he hadnat kept on doing it. He hadnat tried to seek forgiveness in a showy, public way. As she walked along, Marylou realized she was full of energy again, a scary, humming kind of energy. Gas. Go. Return of the Radioactive Lady. And this time she would not be deterred.

She rang Buffas doorbell close to seven a.m.a"a Friday morning, so if he wasnat up he should be up. She wouldnat have been surprised if he didnat answer right awaya"she wouldnat have wanted to talk to anyone if she were him. And she expected that, when he did, head be either under the influence of sleeping pills or unshaven and miserable looking, liquor on his breath, weak and pathetic, the way head looked at the ceremony of hoodoo.

She intended to lean on the doorbell until he answered, then give him the cake and leave. She had no desire to sit and watch him eat it. Didnat think she could.

But she shouldave known! He answered the door right away, smiling, freshly shaven, with swim trunks, a T-shirt, and flip-flops on. aWell, good morning to you!a he said. aTo what do I owe this honor?a She thrust out her cake. aItas two nice big slices of my fresh pineapple upside-down cake,a she said, trying to do a pa.s.sable imitation of a kind smile. aExcellent for breakfast!a He thanked her and asked her to come in and share the cake. She demurred.

aAw, please come in for just a minute,a he said, standing back from the door. He took the cake from hera"plastic-wrapped on a paper plate. She hadnat wanted to give him the whole cake in case he decided to give some to someone else. He took her arm and pulled her inside. Was he suspicious of her?

She stood there, in his spotless kitchen, her mouth dry and her heart thudding in her chest. aItas cold in here,a she said.

aI keep the air-conditioning up too high,a he said, setting the cake down on the counter. aPaulaas always turning it down. Sheas not here now.a Marylou nodded.

aCome. Come sit down.a He gestured at the living room.

aI canat. I really need to go.a She tried to swallow. aAre you going swimming?a aItas my nephew Travisas birthday today. My sister, Gigias, having a party for him down at Alligator Point. They thought it would take my mind off things.a aHow nice,a Marylou said flatly. Would two pieces of cake be enough to kill this man? She certainly hoped so. aWhat about the hurricane?a aEh.a He shrugged her question away. aMore waves for us!a He crouched down like a surfer, swaying on his board.

aI hope you like pineapple upside-down cake,a Marylou said.

aI love it. Itas my favorite kind of cake. Howad you know?a Marylou shrugged. aLucky guess.a aIam going to gobble it right up! Wonat you join me?a Marylou protested and began moving toward the door.

aMrs. Archer,a Buff said, fixing his face in a sincere mask. aI just want to thank you for standing by me. With everyoneas help, with my familyas support, and the Lordas gracious love, I can beat this thing. Your help means so much. And your prayers. And this cake!a He took her hand in his warm paw and she let him hold it.

Youare warm now, sinner, but not for long. That was the Radioactive Lady talking.

aPaula said shead consider moving back in with me. I really miss her and the girls.a His eyes teared up and she had the sudden urge to poke them, hard.

aCake goes down better with milk!a Nance called out as she stepped out the door. aMilk and cake make everything better!a * * *

Marylou hid in her house for a while, not allowing herself to think about what shead done. She tried to watch a cooking show, but kept imagining the round girl chef pouring antifreeze into her polenta with porcini topping and her rotelle with broccoflower and albacore tuna. Finally, surging with restless energy, she clipped Busteras leash on and dragged him outside where it was balmy and fresh as if all the oppressive stagnant air had been sucked up into the gray sky, where dark clouds were now scooting across in a businesslike manner.

Buffas black SUV was parked in his driveway. He hadnat made it to the birthday party after all! What a shame. She refused to imagine what mightave been happening to him inside. So this was what it was like, she thought, to just not think about the consequences of what youad done. Not really so hard after all! Wilson had done it for years. Keep moving, that seemed to help.

Vicas secret wish had been granted. Head wanted a hurricane and along came Grayson. He couldnat enjoy it, though, because here he was, driving right through Grayson to retrieve Ava from Travisas grandmotheras beach house.

The night before, Travis had come by their Friaras Way house to pick Ava up and shead gone off with him to Alligator Point, overnight bag in hand, over Carolineas wild protests.

aHis mother and grandmother and their friends will be there, not that it matters. Itas his birthday. He wants me there. Iam his girlfriend.a Ava lifted her chin proudly.

aBut the storm, the storm!a Caroline wailed. aThereall be way more flooding at the beach.a aIam going,a Ava said, and she went.

The next morning Nance woke them up at seven thirty, dropping by unannounced to take Wilson out to breakfast. She didnat say a word to Vic about the little talk theyad had in his office after head caught Gigi cheating. In fact, she spoke only to Caroline and Wilson, which was fine with him. As Nance and Wilson drove off to their impromptu Cracker Barrel breakfast, Vicas boss called to tell him that FTA was closed because of the hurricane. Vic started calling Ava not long after that to see if she was all right. Ava didnat answer her phone, so by nine thirty Vic was headed south along Highway 98, a two-lane road hemmed in on both sides by the Apalachicola National Forest. It was agonizing not being able to drive any faster than forty-five. For some perverse reason he pictured Ava floating away in the beach house or clinging to driftwood in the surging sea. Or her drowned body washing up on the beach. What kind of a man was he, thinking such thoughts, torturing himself by imagining the very thing he couldnat bear? If anything happened to her because of this storm, head blame himself for wanting the d.a.m.n thing in the first place.

Nearby pine trees swayed back and forth so far that it was hard to believe they didnat snap. Pinecones and pine straw jounced off his windshield and then away. The sky before him was grayish green. Instead of driving into a storm, it was like he was bringing the hurricane across the Panhandle with him. Grayson had proved to be bizarrely unpredictable, with his four separate landings in Florida, his back-and-forthing, his swelling and shrinkinga"storm-hurricane, storm-hurricane. Now his path was depicted on TV as a yellow brick road lined with red propeller-shaped spinners zooming over the Panhandle toward Perry, fifty miles southeast of Tallaha.s.see.

The Volvoas wipers slashed back and forth on high, rain spattering the windshield with a loud tearing sound. Head tried to listen to NPR to take his mind off Ava, but the rain was so loud he had to turn it up full blast to hear it. Convenience stores had lights on inside, but their parking lots were empty. All the traffic was headed the opposite way, up toward Tallaha.s.see. His was the only car headed down to the big wa-wa, as Suzi used to call it. Angeloas Seafood Restaurant was boarded up. On the Ochlockonee Bridge the wind slammed into the left side of the car like it wanted to push him into the water.

Alligator Point was a long skinny peninsula like a finger curving out into the watera"the Gulf on one side and the Little Alligator Bay on the other. Vic felt even more vulnerable driving out onto the peninsula, palm tree leaves turned inside out, tree trash flying. The KOA Campground was deserted. He struggled to keep the car on the road.

Travisas grandmotheras house was one of the few old bungalows left on Alligator Point, which was now, like its snootier cousin, St. George Island, full of new stilted houses on steroids. There were a few vehicles parked near her house but in the center of the peninsula, mostly battered SUVs, Jeeps, and pickup trucks. Vic figured theyad parked there to stay clear of the water. He planned to be in the house only a minute, so he parked right in front.

When he stepped inside, Gigi called his name and rushed up to hug him like he was her long-lost cousin. aWhatare you doing here?a she kept exclaiming.

Vic hugged her stiffly, aware of other people watching.

aI came for Ava,a he told Gigi. Everyone had to speak loudly over the storm. aWe need to get home before the roads flood.a aOh, no, stay and have some lunch,a Gigi said. aItas barely a cat. two!a aIt could get bigger.a Ava, in a gauzy coral-colored dress, ran up to greet him, followed by Travis in his Sponge Bob bathing trunks and a sweatshirt. aCan I stay and have cake? Travis hasnat opened his presents yet. Iam sorry Iam wearing Suzias dress. Please donat tell her. Everyone here loves Elvis! Thereas a three-legged dog on the beach and he wonat come in.a Ava was having a fantastic time, that much was clear.

Vic grabbed her and hugged her and she forced herself to accept it, and he agreed that they could leave after cake.

Caroline had been flabbergasted that Gigias and Buffas mother was having a party, after Buffas name had been all over the papers for molesting children. How could she? But it made perfect sense, in a way. Old money. Stiff upper lip, and all that. She must be determined to pretend that nothing had happened, that her son would be somehow pardoned, and that life should go on, even in the midst of a hurricane. The lady was as nutty as the Mad Hatter.

Present at the Mad Hatteras birthday/hurricane party were a handful of people, some salty preppy types, some working cla.s.s, all mostly older people who were probably, like Gigias mom, permanent residents of Alligator Point. They were all drinking, mostly beer, happy to have an excuse to tie one on, the sort of diehards who routinely ignored hurricane warnings, money or age or machismo allowing them to romanticize the notion of going down with the ship, which was, actually, the same sort of romanticizing Vic had been doing, wanting to be in a hurricane.

A group of men sat around a TV, watching the weather channel with the sound off, swapping hurricane stories in raucous voices. A dark, wizened man told about growing up in Miami and being sent out to pick avocados off the trees in the yard prior to the storm so the wind couldnat hurl them through the windows. A man with a white beard relayed that, up in Georgia, Hurricane Floyd had ripped all the green pecans off his trees and flung them into his bathroom. Sixteen wheel-barrows worth.

One fellow, who was drinking a b.l.o.o.d.y Mary and appeared to be pregnant, told about how a few years ago, here on Alligator Point, during Hurricane George head pa.s.sed out on his sofa, dead to the world, after a hurricane party like this one, his arm dangling down off the side. In the middle of the night head woken up with his hand underwater. Head managed to get out of the house and tried to drive away from Alligator Point but had ended up wrecking his brand-new El Camino in front of the campground and abandoning it. aTime I got back there, couple days later, somebodyad stripped my car bare, made a skeeter out of it.a He cackled, and his listeners roared appreciatively.

Okay, maybe Vic had been too judgmental. Another way to view this situation was that these people were relaxed, and theyad been through more storms than Vic had, so what the h.e.l.l? Why not join them? Ava and Travis had disappeared, so he went by himself into the kitchen, where two matrons in wrap skirts were unloading plastic bags of frozen food, stuff theyad removed from their own freezers and brought to the party so it could get eaten up before the power went out. He helped himself to one of the charred steaks that had been grilled in the garage, speared a baked potato, and scooped up some coleslaw, plopping it all on a plastic plate, and grabbed a beer. He sat down on the living room couch to eat.

Gigi nestled beside him, swigging a fresh beer. She wore a black-and-white striped tank top and white flouncy skirt, freckles dusting her nose, her mane of hair pulled back in an appealingly messy ponytail. Gigi herself was an appealing mess. Had he thought that his attraction to her would simply disappear? He found himself wanting to confide in her, to talk to her about the whole Buff thing, tell her how angry and disgusted and sick about it he was but also wanting to make clear that he wasnat mad at her, only her brother; and he wanted to tell her head decided not to tell his boss about her cheating, but people kept coming up and interrupting them, asking Gigi to introduce him.

The people also kept bringing him beers and he kept drinking them. At one point he escaped to use the bathroom, and on his way back out Gigias mother caught him. aVic, so good to meet you,a said Maude Coffey, a tanned woman in a raspberry-colored sundress and a streaky helmet of hair. She could have been anywhere from sixty-five to eighty-five. aGigias told us so much about you.a Vic mumbled something and glanced around the room for Gigi, but he couldnat see her anywhere in the mix of tropically arrayed, blissfully oblivious guests.

The wind raged and rain pelted sideways against the house, now accompanied by a ba.s.s line of thunder, making it hard to hear Maude, who spoke in a quiet, hoa.r.s.e voice. aHeas got a court date coming up in two weeks. Matt Sandyas defending him, but Iam worried.a It took Vic a while to figure out that he was Buff, her son. Why was she telling this to Vic, of all people? aMatt Sandy,a Vic said. aHe gets all the drug dealers off.a aThe therapists call it as.e.xual addiction.a Heas been in treatment twice, but so far it just hasnat taken. Guess we havenat found the right program.a Blinking back tears, she grabbed hold of Vicas arm. aHeas not a bad person. He truly isnat.a Vic took a deep breath. aYou mightave warned the members of his congregation,a he said in what he hoped was a reasonable tone. aHow come heas not on some registered s.e.x offender list? We like to keep track of those in our neighborhood.a Maude fixed him with her lavender eyes, now damp and slightly reddened. aHeas never been in legal trouble before. n.o.bodyas ever pressed charges.a She must have read the expression on Vicas face. aIam sorry for the girls, too, of course I am, but is taking him to court going to undo what happened? What about his own family? Buffyas making himself sick over this. He was too sick to come celebrate Travisas birthday.a aSick is the least of what Buffy ought to be,a Vic said. aPrisonas too good for the son of a b.i.t.c.h.a Maudeas mouth gaped open and Vic backed away from her.

Time to go.

He found Ava and Travis in the sunroom on the back of the house, sitting side by side in beach chairs, holding hands and watching the storm between strips of duct tape somebody had crisscrossed over the windows.

Vic crossed the sunroom, over to a large red cooler on the floor. He opened the cooler and dug out a bottle of Beckas, then he kicked aside the beach towels lined up against the s.p.a.ce under the door. Here was his chance to really be in a hurricane.

aWhere are you going?a Ava asked him.

aSir, itas not safe out there. The wind is gusting at fifty knots.a Vic promised them head be careful and be right back and stepped out onto the patio, stung by wind-whipped sand and rain. His T-shirt and shorts instantly soaked through. He turned to his right, backing underneath the eaves, so that the wind and sand werenat coming right into his face, and gulped down the cold beer. This house stood level to the beach, a row of protective dunes in front of it, sea oats on the dunes blown flat. In between the dunes he could see the water, waves coming fast, right up to the dunes. Slap, slap, slap. Shingles on the roof above him flapped, and the mast of a nearby Hobie Cat, which n.o.body had seen fit to secure, clanged and whanged. Here he was, in a hurricane. Not as thrilling as head hoped it would be.

The patio door groaned open. aMr. May-ture!a It was Gigi, stepping out onto the patio behind him. aI been looking for you!a She was carrying a bottle of Miller Lite. Her soaking-wet hair whipped wildly around her face. Eyes squinted against the wind, she tipped toward him, arms outstretched, beer breath and soft lips coming closer, but he quickly turned his head so shead kiss his cheek. People were watching. Ava and Travis were watching.

Vic drained his beer and set the bottle down on the flagstones. It clunked over and rattled away.

She was leaning against him, staring out into the Gulf. aNo birds out today! I love pelicans!a she said, yelling over the racket. aArenat they cute?a aYou shouldave told me that your brotheras a pervert.a Gigi just stood there, staring out at the Gulf, one hand shielding her eyes. aI swear to G.o.d thereas a boat out there.a Vic peered out at the horizon but didnat see any boats.

Gigi took another slug from her bottle. aI hope they send the f.u.c.ker up the river for good. Then Mama will realize she has a daughter and not just a f.u.c.ked-up crazy-a.s.s son.a aGo back inside,a he said. aYouare ruining my storm experience.a He meant this as a joke, sort of.

aYouare a d.i.c.k,a Gigi said. aYou always tried to act so together, but I knew. I knew about you and old whatas-her-name. After Larryas party.a aHowad you know?a He never wanted to remember old whatas-her-name.

aEverybody knows, Duckie. We called her Radio Station, acause anybody could pick her up, aspecially at night.a She reached over and pinched Vicas lips together. aYour mouth looks like a duckas. I always wanted to say that. Hey! Duckie! Letas go ride us some dolphins!a She spun around and began maneuvering her way, barefoot, across the slick patio and then up the wooden boardwalk toward the water, wind and rain blowing her sideways, her hair like an inside-out umbrella. She disappeared between the dunes.

What could he do but follow? On the boardwalk the wind was much worse, sand burning his bare legs and arms. He cupped his face to keep the sand out of his eyes. It was worse than being out in a blizzard. It was hard to walk straight. He felt like one of those show-off reporters on Weather Channel, who stood outside in hurricanes, dancing around like Rumpelstiltskin.

At the end of the boardwalk, where there was usually sixty or so yards of white beach, there was now only water and howling wind. And Gigi. Gigi stood facing away from him, in the water up to her knees. He yelled at her, but she didnat turn around.

A cooler lid cartwheeled past him into the water, an aluminum chair just behind it. The wind kept nudge, nudge, nudging and Vic allowed himself to be scooped up and deposited into the Gulf with Gigi, staggering and hopping along instead of dragging his feet like they told you to do to scare the stingrays away. Head never liked the cloudy water at Alligator Point, didnat like not being able to see the stingrays and the sharks that might be lurking, but that uneasiness had never stopped him from going into the water. Head always just figured that if it was his time to be stung or bitten, so be it. Beer helped. Would there even be any rays or sharks out in this weather? The warm water now was murkier than ever, and he couldnat even see his own sandaled feet.

When he reached Gigi, he grabbed her arm and they both lurched around in a silly dance. Then she plopped down and crouched there in water up to her chin. She took another swig from her bottle, like it was an ordinary beach day.

aWe need to go in,a he yelled at her.

aI love you, Vic,a she yelled back. aSo there. I love you.a He couldnat see her eyes, hidden by strands of her dripping hair, but he knew that, even in her drunken state, she was watching his face carefully.

as.h.i.t.a He glanced behind him. He and Gigi were further from sh.o.r.e now, and at a different angle than they had been earlier.

as.h.i.t! What the h.e.l.l kind of response is that? Iam sorry I f.u.c.ked up at FTA okay? You still mad at me for that? Is that your problem?a aThereas plenty of problems.a They were both yelling the sorts of things that last week they couldnat have even imagined speaking aloud. aIam married. Youare a drunk. Your brother molested my daughter. Take your pick.a He was angry at her, angry at himself, but in a way the anger felt just as trumped-up as their earlier lovey-dovey stuff. Loving her, hating her a had he trumped up all of it?

The water lapped at his hips. The wind was now behind them, shoving them, trying to bully them out into that vast expanse of brownish gray water studded with whitecaps. He and Gigi were moving, dancing around together. He couldnat blink the salty water out of his eyes. Again he begged her to come back with him.

She started giggling and pointed. aYour hair.a aWhat the h.e.l.l is wrong with you?a A bigger wave broke over them, knocking Gigi backward. She came up laughing, spitting water, holding her beer bottle safely aloft, but now she was treading water, and he was immersed up to his shoulders.

Vic held out his hand to Gigi. aCome on. Weare getting washed out to sea.a Gigi ignored his hand, pouting. aDonat care.a Washed out to sea. Did he really say that? Sounded like an old pirate movie. Sounded too f.u.c.king metaphorical. There was something unreal about the whole scene. Now he was treading water. He turned. Travis and Ava were at the end of the boardwalk, two figures waving at them. A curtain of lightning dropped down over Little Alligator Bay.

aLightning,a Vic yelled, making a grab for Gigi.

Gigi swooshed sideways, away from him. aYouare happy to play around till I tell you I love you. And you drink just as much as me.a aI never drink as much as you.a af.u.c.king liar!a Why were they having this insane fight? Being drunk was like experiencing the world as drawn by crayonsa"all bright and dark outlines. Nuance and detail and complexity all gone!a"I love you! Letas have fun! Pelicans are cute! Youare a d.i.c.k! I hate you! Liar!a"Everything was clear and everything was stupid. No wonder drunkenness was such an appealing way for people to get through life.

Ava and Travis, at the end of the boardwalk, were jumping around and waving frantically. And there were now other people standing at the end of the boardwalk with Ava, waving. Maude, in her raspberry-colored dress. The pregnant man with the skeeter car. They were all soaked, staggering forward and backward in the wind, like people in a cartoon. It wouldave been, under other circ.u.mstances, comical. It wasnat funny. Not at all. None of this was funny.

Gigi dunked underwater and came back up, spluttering and wiping her eyes. Was she crying? There was no sense blaming her, he realized. Head led her on. He was proud of himself for having wise thoughts at a time like this, even though he was still treading water. He spoke to Gigi in what he hoped was a calm and calming, gentle voice. aPlease come in with me.a She grimaced. aIam not going anywhere. Especially with you, a.s.shole.a She raised the beer bottle, drained the water out, then c.o.c.ked her arm back and tossed it at him, and before he could throw his hands up, it struck the side of his head and bounced off. She covered her mouth, laughing. aOops,a she said.

Vic clutched his stinging head. aYou b.i.t.c.h.a He was speaking B movie dialogue. This whole scene was out of a B movie. Pirate May-ture (aka Duckie) and the Drunk Vixen Get Swept Out to Sea. Never in his life had he imagined himself in such a melodramatic scene. But why not him? Why should he be immune? Life wants to be a B movie. Everyoneas life. Even his. Get drunk, act on your impulses, shout out stupid s.h.i.t youall be ashamed of latera"B movie!

Another curtain of lightning, behind the houses, this time a wraparound curtain instead of a caf curtain, and then the deep chuckle of thunder.

aIam just your midlife crisis,a she said. aIam your shiny red sports car, motherf.u.c.ker.a He rubbed his temple. Why couldnat he just swim away and let her drown? A band of stronger rain washed over them, then another. A line of heavier thunderstorms coming in. aYouare just like your brother,a he bellowed. aA cheating, self-pitying sociopath.a That had a real ring to it.