thunter.fearloathinglasvegas-第24部分

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　　Att'y：　A　mental　joint？　You　mean　like　a　mental　hospital？　Lou：　No；　honey；　where　all　the　dope　peddlers　and　all　the　pushers；　everybody　hangs　out。　It's　a　place　where　all　the　kids　are　potted　when　they　go　in；　and　everything　。。。　but　it's　not　called　what　you　said；　the　American　Dream。
　　Att'y：　Do　you　have　any　idea　what　it　might　be　called？　Or　more　or　less　where　it　might　be　located？
　　Lou：　Right　off　of　Paradise　and　Eastern。
　　Waitress：　But　Paradise　and　Eastern　are　parallel。
　　Lou：　Yeah；　but　I　know　I　e　off　of　Eastern；　and　then　I　go　to　Paradise　Waitress：　Yeah　I　know　it；　but　then　that　would　make　it　off　Paradise　around　the　Flamingo；　straight　up　here。　I　think　somebody's　handed　you　a　Att'y：　We're　staying　at　the　Flamingo。　I　think　this　place　you're　talking　about　and　the　way　you're　describing　it；　I　think　that　maybe　that's　it。
　　Lou：　It's　not　a　tourist　joint。
　　Att'y：　Well；　that's　why　they　sent　me。　He's　the　writer：　I'm　the　bodyguard。　'Cause　I　figure　it　will　be。。。
　　Lou：　These　guys　are　nuts。。。these　kids　are　nuts。
　　Att'y：　That's　OK。
　　Waitress：　Yeah；　they　got　new　laws。
　　Duke：　Twenty…four…hour…a…day　violence？　Is　that　what　we're　saying？
　　Lou：　Exactly。　Now　here's　the　Flamingo。。。Oh；　I　can't　show　you　this；　I　can　tell　you　better　my　way。　Right　up　here　at　the　first　gas　station　is　Tropicana；　take　a　right。
　　Att'y：　Tropicana　to　the　right。
　　Lou：　The　first　gas　station　is　Tropicana。　Take　a　right　on　Tropicana　and　take　this　way。。。right　on　Tropicana；　right　on　Paradice；　you'll　see　a　big　black　building；　it's　all　painted　black　real　weird　looking。
　　Att'y：　Right　on　Tropicana；　right　on　Paradise；　black　building。。。
　　Lou：　And　there's　a　sign　on　the　side　of　the　building　that　says　Psychiatrist's　Club；　but　they're　pletely　remodeling　it　and　everything。
　　Att'y：　All　right；　that's　close　enough　Lou：　If　there's　anything　I　can　do　for　ya；　honey。。。　I　don't　know　if　that's　even　it　or　not。　But　it　sounds　like　it　is。　I　think　you　boys　are　on　the　right　track。
　　Att'y：　Right。　That's　the　best　lead　we've　had　for　two　days；　we've　been　asking　people　all　around。
　　Lou：。。。I　could　make　a　couple　calls　and　sure　as　hell　find　out。
　　Att'y：　Could　you？
　　Lou：　Sure　I'll　call　Allen　and　ask　him。
　　Att'y：　Gee；　I'd　appreciate　that　if　you　could。
　　Waitress：　When　you　go　down　to　Tropicana；　it's　not　the　first　gas　station；　the　second。
　　Lou：　There's　a　big　sign　right　down　the　street　here；　it　says　Tropicana　Avenue。　Make　a　right；　and　when　you　get　to　Paradice　make　another　right。
　　Att'y：　OK。　Big　black　building；　right　on　Paradise：　twenty…four…hour…a…day　violence；　drugs　Waitress：　See；　here's　Tropicana；　and　this　is　Boulder　Highway　that　goes　clear　down　like　that。
　　Duke：　Well；　that's　pretty　far　into　town　then。
　　Waitress：　Well；　here's　Paradise　split　up　somewhere　around　there。　There's　Paradice。　Paradise。　Yeah；　we're　down　in　here。　See；　this　is　Boulder　Highway。。。and　Tropicana。
　　Lou：　Well；　that's　not　it；　that　bartender　in　there　is　a　pothead　too。。。
　　Att'y：　Yeah；　well；　it's　a　lead。
　　Lou：　You　gonna　be　glad　you　stopped　here；　boys。
　　Duke：　Only　if　we　find　it。
　　Att'y：　Only　if　we　write　the　article　and　get　it　in。
　　Waitress：　Well；　why　don't　you　e　inside　and　sit　down？
　　Duke：　We're　trying　to　get　as　much　sun　as　we　can。
　　Att'y：　She's　going　to　make　a　phone　call　to　find　out　where　it　Is。
　　Duke：　Oh。　OK；　well；　let's　go　inside。　EDITOR'S　NOTE　（cont。）：　Tape　cassettes　for　the　next　sequence　were　impossible　to　transcribe　due　to　some　viscous　liquid　encrusted　behind　the　heads。　There　is　a　certain　consistency　in　the　garbled　sounds　however；　indicating　that　almost　two　hours　later　Dr。
　　Duke　and　his　attorney　finally　located　what　was　left　of　the　〃Old　Psychiatrist's　Club〃…a　huge　slab　of　cracked；　scorched　concrete　in　a　vacant　lot　full　of　tall　weeds。　The　owner　of　a　gas　station　across　the　road　said　the　place　had　〃burned　down　about　three　years　ago。〃
　　
　　　10。　Heavy　Duty　at　the　Airport。。。Ugly　Peruvian　Flashback　。。。〃No！　It's　Too　Late！　Don't　Try　It！〃
　　
　　My　attorney　left　at　dawn。　We　almost　missed　the　first　flight　to　LA。　because　I　couldn't　find　the　airport。　It　was　less　than　thirty　minutes　from　the　hotel。　I　was　sure　of　that。　So　we　left　the　Flamingo　at　exactly　seven…thirty。。。but　for　some　reason　we　failed　to　make　the　turnoff　at　the　stoplight　in　front　of　the　Tropicana。　We　kept　going　straight　ahead　on　the　freeway；　that　parallels　the　main　airport　runway；　but　on　the　opposite　from　the　terminal。。。and　there　is　no　way　to　get　across　legally。
　　〃Goddamnit！　We're　lost！〃　my　attorney　was　shouting。　What　are　we　doing　out　here　on　this　godforsaken　road？　The　airport　is　right　over　there！〃　He　pointed　hysterically　across　the　tundra。
　　〃Don't　worry；〃　I　said。　〃I've　never　missed　a　plane　yet。〃　I　smiled　as　the　memory　came　back。　〃Except　once　in　Peru；〃　I　added。　〃I　was　already　checked　out　of　country；　through　customs；　but　I　went　back　to　the　bar　to　chat　with　this　Bolivian　cocaine　dealer。。。and　all　of　a　sudden　I　heard　those　big　707　engines　starting　up；　so　I　ran　out　to　the　runway　and　tried　to　get　aboard　but　the　door　was　right　behind　the　engines　and　they'd　already　rolled　the　ladder　away。　Shit；　those　afterburners　would　have　fried　me　like　bacon。。。but　I　was　pletely　out　of　my　head：　I　was　desperate　to　get　aboard。
　　〃The　airport　cops　saw　me　ing；　and　they　gathered　into　a　knot　at　the　gate。　I　was　running　like　a　bastard；　straight　at　them。　The　guy　with　me　was　screaming：　'No！　It's　too　late！　Don't　try　it！'
　　〃I　saw　the　cops　waiting　for　me；　so　I　slowed　down　like　maybe　I'd　changed　my　mind　。。。　but　when　I　saw　them　relax；　I　did　a　quick　change　of　pace　and　tried　to　run　right　over　the　bastards。〃　I　laughed。　〃Jesus；　it　was　like　running　full　bore　into　a　closet　full　of　gila　monsters。　The　fuckers　almost　killed　me。　All　I　remember　is　seeing　five　or　six　billyclubs　ing　down　on　me　at　the　same　time；　and　a　lot　of　voices　screaming：　'No！　No！　It's　suicide！　Stop　the　crazy　gringo！'　〃I　woke　up　about　two　hours　later　in　a　bar　in　downtown　Lima。　They'd　stretched　me　out　in　one　of　those　half…moon　leather　booths。　My　luggage　was　all　stacked　beside　me。　No　body　had　opened　it。。。so　I　went　back　to　sleep　and　caught　the　first　flight　out；　the　next　morning。〃　My　attorney　was　only　half　listening。　〃Look；〃　he　said；　〃I'd　really　like　to　hear　more　about　your　adventures　in　Peru；　but　not　now。　Right　now　all　I　care　about　is　getting　across　that　god　damn　runway。〃　We　were　flashing　along　at　good　speed。　I　was　looking　for　an　opening；　some　kind　of　access　road；　some　lane　across　the　run　way　to　the　terminal。　We　were　five　miles　past　the　last　stop　light　and　there　wasn't　enough　time　to　turn　around　and　go　back　to　it。
　　There　was　only　one　way　to　make　it　on　time。　I　hit　the　brakes　and　eased　the　Whale　down　into　the　grassy　moat　between　the　two　freeway　lanes。　The　ditch　was　too　deep　for　a　head…on　run；　so　I　took　it　at　an　angle。　The　Whale　almost　rolled；　but　I　kept　the　wheels　churning　and　we　careened　up　the　opposite　bank　and　into　the　oning　lane。　Fortunately；　it　was　empty。　We　came　out　of　the　moat　with　the　nose　of　the　car　up　in　the　air　like　a　hydroplane。。　。　then　bounced　on　the　freeway　and　kept　on　going　into　the　cactus　field　on　the　other　side。　I　recall　running　over　a　fence　of　some　kind　said　dragging　it　a　few　hundred　yards；　but　by　the　time　w　e　got　to　the　runway　way　we　were　under　control。。。screaming　along　about　60　miles　an　in　low　gear；　and　it　looked　like　a　wide…open　run　all　the　to　the　terminal。
　　My　only　worry　was　the　chance　of　getting　crushed　like　a　roach　by　an　ining　DC…8；　which　we　probably　wouldn't　see　until　it　was　right　on　top　of　us。　I　wondered　if　they　could　see　us　in　the　tower。　Probably　so；　but　why　worry？　I　kept　the　thing　floored。　There　was　no　point　in　turning　back　now。
　　My　attorney　was　hanging　onto　the　dashboard　with　both　nds。　I　glanced　over　and　saw　fear　in　his　eyes。　His　face　appeared　to　be　grey；　and　I　sensed　he　was　not　happy　with　this　move；　but　we　were　going　so　fast　across　the　runway…then　cactus；　then　runway　again…that　I　knew　he　understood　our　situation：　We　were　past　the　point　of　debating　the　wisdom　of　is　move；　it　was　already　done；　and　our　only　hope　was　to　get　the　other　side。
　　I　looked　at　my　skeleton…face　Accutron　and　saw　that　we　had　three　minutes　and　fifteen　seconds　before　takeoff。　〃Plenty　of　time；〃　I　said。　〃Get　your　stuff　together。　I'll　drop　you　right　next　the　plane。〃　I　could　see　the　big　red　and　silver　Western　jetliner　about　1000　yards　ahead　of　us。。。and　by　this　time　we　were　skimming　across　smooth　asphalt；　past　the　ining　runway。
　　〃No！〃　he　shouted。　〃I　can't　get　out！　They'll　crucify　me。　I'll　have　to　take　the　blame！〃
　　〃Rediculous；〃　I　said。　〃Just　say　you　were　hitchhiking　to　the　airport　and　I　picked　you　up。　You　never　saw　me　before。　Shit；　thos　town　is　full　of　white　Cadillac　convertibles。。。and　I　plan　to　go　through　there　so　fast　that　nobody　will　even　glimpse　the　goddamn　license　plate。〃　We　were　approaching　the　plane。　I　could　see　passengers　but　so　far　nobody　had　noticed　us。。。approaching　from　this　unlikely　direction。　〃Are　you　ready？〃　I　said。
　　〃Why　not？　But　for　Christ's　sake；　let's　do　it　fast！　He　was　scanning　the　loading　area；　then　he　pointed：　〃Over　there！〃　he　said。　〃Drop　me　behind　that　big　van。　Just　pull　in　behiond　it　ad　I'll　jump　out　where　they　can't　see　me；　then　you　can　make　a　run　for　it。〃　I　nodded。　So　far；　we　had　all　the　room　we　needed。　No　sign　of　alarm　or　pursuit。　I　wondered　if　maybe　this　kind　of　thing　hap　pened　all　the　time　in　Vegas…cars　full　of　late…arriving　passengers　screeching　desperately　across　the　runway；　dropping　off　wild…eyed　Samoans　clutching　mysterious　canvas　bags　who　would　sprint　onto　planes　at　the　last　possible　second　and　then　roar　off　into　the　sunrise。
　　Maybe　so；　I　thought。　Maybe　this　kind　of　thing　is　standard　procedure　in　this　town　I　swung　in　behind　the　van　and　hit　the　brakes　just　long　enough　for　my　attorney　to　jump　out。　〃Don't　take　any　guff　from　these　swine；〃　I　yelled。　〃Remember；　if　you　have　any　trouble　you　can　always　send　a　telegram　to　the　Right　People。〃　He　grinned。　〃Yeah。。。Explaining　my　Position；〃　he　said。　〃Some　asshole　wrote　a　poem　about　that　once。　It's　probably　good　advice；　if　you　have　shit　for　brains。〃　He　waved　me　off。
　　〃Right；〃　I　said；　moving　out。　I'd　already　spotted　a　break　in　the　big　hurricane　fence…and　now；　with　the　Whale　in　low　gear；　I　went　for　it。　Nobody　seemed　to　be　chasing　me。　I　couldn't　understand　it。　I　glan