as the day he was born—presenting the Columbus Day Regatta… a huge erection… so gorged with blood, it curved upward at a fifteen-degree angle… three naked maidens, with tits rampant!… the god Priapus, the gorged cock of Youth rampant!… all of it lit by the brief domed glow of dusk.
The cheering from the tethered boats rose up in a primal scream not from the heart but from the groin, feral whoooops, woo-woo-wooooos, hoot hoot hooooots, arrrrghs, ah haaahhs arrrghhHHHock hock hock—that last rut rut roar unmistakably Norman’s…
“Did you see that? Did you see it, kid? That guy broke every known rule of the central nervous system! No man can endure the taxation water-skiing weighs on his legs, the quadriceps, the hamstrings, the latissimi dorsi, the brachialis—and maintain an erection like that… it can’t happen—but it just did!”
::::::Ah, the scientist, the scholarly research analyst, keeps his eyes fixed upon the very outer boundaries of the human animal’s existence.:::::: Magdalena wondered if Norman himself was aware of how often he tried to hide his own sexual excitement behind these thick walls of theory… while even now he scans the bay for one last receding glimpse of the nice young cloven bottoms of the water-ski girls in the sexual water show.
The show was over, but the americanos, like Norman, were inflamed by lust. Their hands trembled and they had serious trouble trying to text on their smart phones’ tiny keys. Their phones were ringing in a dysphony of “Hips Don’t Lie,” “On the Floor,” “Wild Ones,” Rihanna, Madonna, Shakira, Flo Rida, recorded laughing jags, whistled Brazilian salsas, all of them riddled by the abrupt beep beep beeps and alert alert alerts of incoming TEXTS thung TEXTS thung BEAT thung HUMP thung THRUST thung BEAT thung DANCING thung AGAIN thung the DECK thung DECK thung INFLAMED thung LUST thung LUST WHOOP WHOOP! WOO-WOO!—and all at once todo el mundo is mad to reach another deck… down that way! Norman grabs Magdalena by the forearm and is pulling her, dragging her, into the stampede. Such commotion—
“Norman! What’s—”
He didn’t wait for her to complete the question. “I don’t know! Let’s find out!”
“What earthly good—”
“We have to see!” said Norman. He said it as if that were the only rational choice, given the surge of the crowd.
“No, Norman—you’re crazy!”
She tries to pull back and go the other way, turns —¡ALAVAO! A horde of them are climbing and vaulting over the railing onto this deck and WHOOP WHOOP! WOO-WOOOO! charging past her and clambering from this boat to the next and from the next to the next—going that way, HORDES of them! Magdalena gave up and rushed with the rest and ravenous Norman, struggling up over railings and dropping onto the next deck and struggling up and dropping down and stampeding across deck after deck until at last they could see a crowd in slices that was gathering, sliced and diced by lights streaming over them, in the very last boat in the row, the only sailboat, the schooner with the two towering masts. But why?
Magdalena didn’t want to think of Nestor, but Nestor intruded. ::::::God, that first mast is so tall… the height of an office building… and Nestor climbed to the top hand over hand.::::::
“I think I know what this is all abouuuut hock hock hock!” said Norman. In a very jolly way, too. So jolly, he just naturally put his arm around Magdalena’s shoulders and drew her close to him. “Ohhohoho, yes, I think… I… do… know,” he said. Obviously, he wanted her to say, “What?—my all-knowing one.” But she wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction. She hadn’t forgotten their swelling contretemps before they boarded the boat.
Some mock cheering broke out among the boys and girls crowded onto the schooner’s foredeck. The boat’s huge mainsail had suddenly lit up like a lamp shade—no, like a screen. The sail had been swung about ninety degrees until it was like a screen facing the people on the foredeck, and the lights, Magdalena now realized, came from a beam projected from the prow. An image appeared on the sail—a slice of part of a person?—but a little gust of wind rippled across, and Magdalena couldn’t make it out. In the next instant, the wind calmed down, and a huge image appeared—an erect penis six or seven feet long on the huge schooner sail and nearly two feet thick. But where was the end, the glans penis? It had disappeared into a cave—but that couldn’t be the entrance