Ray

XV

IN the moon that comes over Dauphin Island, over the bay, we see the gray-blue chariots of the gods move across its face. The wind is running from the south. The night is clear. The blinking lights of the airport tower are throwing out against the color.

The hurricane is over and many people are dissatisfied that it killed no one. Bob the hurricane came in and just sort of raised the water, blew a few phony cupolas off the houses.

Ray meets one of the detestable children of the modern day. I delivered her baby and now she’s delivered her modern self onto the world. She was at the 7-Eleven when I was buying crab bait.

“Are you, I’d guess, a Taurus, Doctor Ray?”

“Yes. Nice to see you.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Fishing with my father and my son.”

“Oh, how macho. Just like a Taurus.”

“Yes, isn’t it?”

“I’m divorced now.”

“Oh.”