Randy waited.
This time it was forty-five minutes before it came out.
His mind slowly orbited in the growing light.
(do you love yes I love rooting for the Yankees and Cat-
fish do you love the Catfish yes I love the
(Route 66 remember the Corvette George Maharis in the Corvette
Martin Milner in the Corvette do you love the Corvette
(yes I love the Corvette
(I love do you love
(so hot the sun is like a burning gla** it was in her hair and it's the
light I remember best the light the summer light
(the summer light of)
afternoon.
Randy was crying.
He was crying because something new had been added now-
every time he tried to sit down, the thing slid under the raft. It
wasn't entirely stupid, then; it had either sensed or figured out that it
could get at him while he was sitting down.
"Go away," Randy wept at the great black mole floating on the
water. Fifty yards away, mockingly close, a squirrel was scampering
back and forth on the hood of Deke's Camaro. "Go away, please, go
anywhere, but leave me alone. I don't love you."
The thing didn't move. Colors began to swirl across its visible sur-
face.
( you do you do love me)
Randy tore his eyes away and looked at the beach, looked for res-
cue, but there was no one there, no one at all. His jeans still lay there,
one leg inside out, the white lining of one pocket showing. They no
longer looked to him as if someone was going to pick them up. They
looked like relics
He thought: if I had a gun, I would k** myself now.
He stood on the raft.
The sun went down.
Three hours later, the moon came up.
Not long after that, the loons began to scream.