A Safe House

48

Once Stone reached their seats he opened the two umbrellas.

“Excuse me,” a man behind them said. “We can’t see through your umbrellas.”

Eggers turned and looked at him. “Don’t worry,” he said, “it won’t matter in just a moment.”

“I’m sorry, what do you mean?” the man said. “Of course it matters!”

A small woman ran up to Senator Slade and held a rather small umbrella over his head.

“Did you bring this weather with you?” Slade demanded of her.

“No,” Stone said loudly. “We brought it with us.”

Then it was as if someone had tipped over a large bucket in the sky and poured water over them all.

The people behind Stone who had complained about his umbrellas got up and ran, while other umbrellas blossomed in the small crowd. The woman holding the umbrella over the senator stayed rigidly in place, while he tried to go on. She was getting soaked, as he was from about his chest down.

Stone, Jenna, and Eggers were unable to suppress laughter, while Slade soldiered on, glowering at them.

“I’m informed that the rain will pass shortly!” he shouted.

Stone shouted back, “Who informed you of that? God?”

A very wet man in a seersucker suit ran up to Stone. “Please, let’s maintain decorum!”

“This is indecorous weather!” Stone shouted back.

“You think this is indecorous?” Slade yelled, joining the conversation. “Wait until I slap you silly!”

“I’m waiting,” Stone yelled back. “Try it!”

Slade grabbed the microphone, turned, and walked up the steps to the porch of the building, followed by the woman with the umbrella, trying desperately to keep up with him. “Now,” he said, “with a little shelter, I believe I can continue.”

“The rest of us don’t have any shelter!” Stone shouted.

The audience, such as it was, scattered to the winds, seeking shelter.

Then there was a flash of light from the audio-system box, and Slade screamed and dropped the microphone.

“God is calling again,” Stone yelled. “A new message!”

A man in a blue suit appeared from inside the building with a velvet box and a robe slung over an arm. “Here’s your degree!” he shouted. “And your robes. Would you like me to help you on with them?”

A woman appeared and offered Slade his Stetson, which he jammed onto his head.

“And now you’ve been handed your hat!” Stone shouted. “That’s your cue for your exit!”

Slade stalked off toward the parking lot, while the woman with the umbrella tried to follow.

Egger and Jenna were helpless with laughter, and Stone found it infectious. He sat down and laughed with them. Some minutes passed, then a ray of sunshine beat down on them and the rain stopped, as if turned off by a spigot in the sky. Gradually, the three of them gained control of themselves.

“What now?” Stone asked.

“Let’s hunt him down and throw stones at him,” Jenna suggested.

“I’ve no wish,” Eggers said, “to spend the night in the Hearthrug jail. Suggest something else.”

“It’s brown whiskey weather,” Stone said. “Let’s go home and drink some.”

“Now, that’s what I call a suggestion,” Eggers said.

They all stood up. Jenna said, “There must be something else we can do to humiliate Wallace.”

Then, across the lawn, Harley Quince stepped through a hedge in his black Stetson, wearing a black rubber cape.

Stone looked at him. “My best guess on what’s under the cape is a shotgun. What’s yours?”

“I’ll buy that,” Eggers said. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

They ran for Jenna’s car. They had to wade the last twenty feet, as the car park had become a puddle. Stone got the wet umbrellas into the rear compartment, then started the car. “Does this thing have four-wheel drive?” he asked.

“I think so,” Jenna said.

“I guess we’re about to find out,” Eggers said from the rear seat.

Stone put the car in gear, tapped the accelerator, and let the car move itself through a huge puddle, which seemed to be about up to the wheel hubs now.

From somewhere behind them, they heard a motorcycle crank up noisily.

“I guess we’re about to find out, too, how a BMW motorcycle does in these conditions.” Stone steered for the main gate and went just a little faster.

“Here he comes,” Eggers said, looking rearward.

Stone checked the rearview mirror and saw Quince, his legs spread out, plowing through the water. “Oh, shit,” he said. “We should have come armed.”

“Well,” Jenna said, “I’d rather be in jail than dead.”

“I’m afraid it’s too late to reconsider,” Eggers said. “Can you paddle faster, Stone?”

“I’m paddling as fast as I can,” Stone said. “How’s Quince doing?”

“Ha!” Eggers shouted. “He just took a spill.”

Then they were in shallower water, then on a reasonably dry road that ran through the main gate. A moment later, they were on the road and headed back to Washington.