laughing could be heard, followed by his grandfather?s rough laughter. Their joyous chorus was
joined by the sound of a calliope playing “East Side, West Side, All Around the Town.” The child was
on the carousel, his grandfather standing beside him with an arm around the boy. The horses, eyes
gleaming, nostrils flaring, mouths open, jogged up and down in an endless, circular race. Below them,
in the pool, an inner tube floated, forgotten.
The figure, dressed entirely in black, crouched as it moved silently and swiftly through the sea grass
on top of the dune to a point above the house. Only the swimming pool was visible. The figure was
carrying a weapon that had the general conformity of a rifle but was larger.
The figure slid to the ground and eased quietly to the edge of the dune, looking down at the old man
arid the child. He waited.
A woman appeared at the sliding glass door at the back of the house.
“Ricardo, bedtime,” she yelled.
The child protested but the woman persisted.
“Once more around,” the old man yelled back, and the woman agreed and waited.
The figure on the dune also waited.
His last ride finished, the little boy ran gleefully down the terrace and then turned back to the older
man.
“Come kiss me good night, Grandpa,” he called back. The grandfather smiled and waved his hand.
“Uno momento,” he called back, and then motioned to the men in the gazebo to shut down the
carousel.
The child skipped to his grandmother arid they entered the house together.
The figure on the dune fitted what looked like a pineapple onto the end of the weapon and adjusted a
knob on the rear of the barrel. There was the faint sound of metal clinking against metal.
The old man looked around, not sure where the sound had come from.
One of the men in the gazebo stood up, stepped out onto the terrace, and looked up.
“Something?” the other one said.
The first one shrugged and walked back into the gazebo.
There was a muffled explosion—
Pumf!
A sigh in the night air over their heads.
Then the terraced backyard of the house was suddenly bathed in a sickening orange-red glow.
The two men in the gazebo were blown to the ground. The grandfather arced like a diver doing a back
flip as he was blown off the terrace. He landed in the pool. The merry horses were blown to bits.
