Busted Flush Page 0,174

I had wanted you dead, you'd be dead. You were making a dreadful hash of things, and I had hoped to make you reconsider your involvement. Therefore it had to look good."

"Hey! We saved those people - "

"Not now!" I let it snap with command and they subside. "Weathers is a dangerous psychopath and President Nshombo and his sister are equally murderous. They now have a living nuclear bomb." I overenunciate the final three words. "I've left a message for Weathers that I have Sprout and he'll get her back when I get Drake."

Hearing her name the woman suddenly says, "Where's my daddy? Is he coming soon?"

Bubbles can't help herself. She puts an arm around the older woman's shoulders. "He'll be here soon. Would you like something to eat? Are you hungry?" And I realize that Bubbles really is kind.

"Actually we stopped in Iceland and I bought her breakfast while I waited for the sun to rise here," I say.

"Why us?" Ana asks in her blunt way. "Why bring her here?"

"Because Weathers will try to kill me rather than make the exchange. I need your powers. Individually none of you can stand against Weathers, but together . . ."

"Yeah, well, I say you can just go fuck yourself," Bugsy says. "Why should we risk our lives?"

"Because Weathers won't make a distinction between me and thee." I give him a smile. "And my message strongly suggested that the Committee was behind this."

"You fucker," Bugsy says miserably.

"You should broaden your repertoire of invective," I say. "How do I get a cup of coffee?"

The day is dragging by. I sit on one of the benches in Jackson Square drinking the strong, chicory-flavored coffee and setting myself abuzz eating sugar-drenched beignets. Around my feet is a halo of crushed butts. I ran out of the Turkish cigarettes hours ago, and have been making do with Lucky Strikes. Ana, Gardener, and more disturbingly, an army of the dead are still working to raise the levees. Bugsy and I are keeping watch for Weathers. I've warned Bugsy that Weathers will do something surprising and to consider every possible avenue for an arrival, no matter how remote.

My phone rings. "Hi, babe," I say as I answer. I know it's Niobe. We've been calling each other every hour.

"Oh, Noel." Her voice is husky with tears. "It's your dad."

It feels like a fist has closed hard around my guts. "Is he - " I can't say the word.

"No, but he's unconscious. I think it won't be long now."

I feel like a butterfly on a collector's pin. I want to be with her. I want to see him. I need to be here for Drake. All I can manage to say is, "I don't know what to do," and there's a five-year-old's wail in the words.

"He said to tell you to 'live forward.' Then he was quiet for a long time, and then he murmured something. I think he was still talking to you. He said 'for love is strong as death.' Do you know what he means?"

The agony in my belly is gone. My throat is tight and my chest tight, but I'm oddly calm. "Yes. Yes, I think I do."

"Are you coming home?"

"No. I need to be here for Drake."

"Then I'll be here for your father." Her voice is very soft.

"I'll see you soon," I say and hang up the phone. "Good-bye, Dad. Godspeed. I love you," I whisper. But the words are whipped away by the rising wind.

Shoulda

Caroline Spector

"YOU'VE BEEN A BAD, bad dolly," Sprout said. "Now you have to go to bed."

I walked into the room where Hoodoo Mama was watching Sprout play. Their heads were together, and it was hard for me to reconcile the hard-ass zombie chick with this gentle girl who was so tender with Sprout.

"My dolly has been very bad," Sprout said, looking up at me.

"Oh, what did dolly do?" I asked.

"She walked funny. See."

Sprout put the dolly on the floor. It got up on all fours and staggered around the room.

"What the fu - heck is that?"

"Uhm," Hoodoo Mama said.

I strode over to the dolly and picked it up.

"Oh, hell no," I said. "Joey, you can't let her play with zombie cats." I opened the door and dropped the cat in the hall.

"I want my dolly!"

"How about we go out shopping and find you a new dolly?" Hoodoo Mama said.

Sprout frowned. "But I want mine."

"Tell you what, I bet Michelle will make you some bubbles."

They turned back toward me with expectant