Bone Dry

females. For whatever reason, the male population seems to be dwindling more rapidly than the females. Right now, biologists are hoping to locate and trap a male so they can try to breed the birds in captivity. So far, no luck. See, the females don’t need a male in order to lay eggs. But they do need a male to lay a fertilized egg-that is, one that can hatch a young bird. The women in the audience might say that’s all the males are good for.”

Once again, the audience chuckled.

“But here’s the biggest problem the red-necked sapsucker is facing: Unlike most birds, they are extremely picky when it comes to the materials they use for building nests. In fact, they chiefly use the long, stringy bark from cedar trees. It’s one of those unfortunate cases when nothing else will do. They have to have cedar bark or they can’t make nests, they can’t produce offspring, and the species will gradually fade away. In other words, without plenty of cedar trees around, the red-necked sapsucker will become extinct-it’s that simple.”

Marlin thought: Here’s where the audience either sides with her or against her.

“My question is,” Inga said, “is it worth it? Is the water situation serious enough to justify wiping out an entire species? I’d like to make this a group discussion, so would anyone care to comment?”

Heads turned and looked at neighbors, and a woman holding a toddler meekly raised her hand. “What are we supposed to do for water? I mean, if we don’t clear the brush.”

“Well, I’d like to suggest a combination of two things: conservation and rainwater collection. Now, by ‘conservation,’ I don’t mean anything drastic. Just take shorter showers. Cut the water off when you’re brushing your teeth or shaving. Water your lawn by hand instead of with a sprinkler. Stuff like that. It’s amazing how fast the gallons you save can add up.

“And secondly, harvesting rainwater. Some residents in this county already have elaborate systems that provide all the household water they need. I saw one home over off Miller Creek Loop that had two enormous cisterns that probably hold ten thousand gallons each. That’ll last a pretty long time between rainshowers.”

A middle-aged man held up his hand and remarked that that kind of system was very expensive.

Inga nodded her head slowly. “Yeah, you’re right, they can be pricey. Most systems pay for themselves in the long run, though. And you don’t necessarily have to do anything that elaborate. You could simply attach a hundred- gallon barrel to your rain gutter and use it to water your garden. You don’t need a pump, a filter, anything like that.”

An elderly woman-Marlin recognized her as a retired biology teacher from the high school-stood up. “What are this bird’s chances if we quit cutting cedar? Won’t it die out anyway? If they’re already having a rough go of it with plenty of cedars still around, it sounds like they’ll be in pretty bad shape regardless of what we do.”

Inga nodded. “The only answer is, nobody knows for sure. Sometimes, it’s easy to pinpoint the reason why a species becomes endangered. It’s usually something like hunting pressure or habitat destruction. But here, the red-necked sapsucker is almost extinct and that’s regardless of the brush-clearing. But what we do know for sure is, if all the cedar is cleared, they will definitely vanish. And in my opinion-”

She was interrupted by a muttered comment from another person in the crowd. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that. Please stand up and join the discussion.”

A large dark-haired man in a well-tailored suit stood up. “I don’t see what the problem is,” he said, waving his hands emphatically. “I mean, one little bird? Fuhget about it. How important is dat? We gonna hold up progress for dat?”

Marlin couldn’t remember the man’s name, but he had seen him around town. A new guy, only in Johnson City for a couple of years. The guy had a thick accent, something like Robert De Niro’s in his gangster pictures.

“I appreciate your comment, sir.” Inga said. She cocked her head and gave him a momentary stare. “I believe we’ve met before. May I have your name?”

The man looked around warily, then said, “Salvatore Mameli.”

Now Marlin remembered. He had caught a Vinnie Mameli-no doubt this guy’s son-four-wheeling in the park a few months back. Had given him and his friend, T.J. Gibbs, a citation.

“Thank you, Mr. Mameli. I understand your attitude, but it’s not really a matter of progress. We’re not holding up something as important as a housing development or a shopping center.”

Marlin wasn’t sure if anybody caught Inga’s sarcasm in that last remark. She seemed to have her hackles up a little now.

“Ya don’t think it’s holding up progress, huh?” Mameli said. “Let me ask ya somethin’. Without water, how’s the county gonna grow? How we gonna build homes for our families, hospitals, new schools for our kids, things like dat? Gotta have water for all dese things. Don’t tell me you think dis bird, dis sapsucker, is more important than our kids’ futures?”

The crowd waited silently for Inga’s reply, some people nodding their heads in agreement with Mameli. She gave a patient smile and said, “No, of course I don’t think that. I just believe there’s a sensible answer that will allow us to do both-to live comfortably and save the sapsucker.”

“Yeah, like collecting rainwater,” Mameli said, plenty of mockery in his voice. “So you got a guy like dis here….” He placed his hand on a man next to him in the audience. “He’s spent maybe five, six grand digging a well, building a pump-house, but you want him to forget all dat and catch the few measly drops dat happen to fall out of the sky instead. What’s he supposed to do when summer rolls around? Say it’s July, August, and dere ain’t been any rain in weeks. He’s suppose to go outside and, what, do a rain dance every time he wants to take a shower?” The guy actually started doing a jig, patting his hand over his mouth, doing an Indian chant that was straight out of a 1950s B movie. People chuckled right along with him.

Marlin felt the momentum starting to shift, the audience starting to get behind this obnoxious clown.

CHAPTER TWENTY

The weight belt around Vinnie’s waist took him down nice and slow-and Vinnie descended into a world he had never experienced before. All sounds disappeared, except for his own rhythmic breathing, loud in his ears. Sounded like goddamn Darth Vader or something. It was an eerie world down here, almost claustrophobic.

Using a waterproof spotlight, Vinnie could see much better than he had expected, maybe seventy or eighty feet. There wasn’t much to see at first. Just water and more water, with millions of tiny particles floating in it, reflecting the light. Vinnie wondered if all that stuff was maybe fish crap. Fuckin’ gross. He’d have to take a nice long shower when he got home.

After half a minute, Vinnie was no longer sure he was going any deeper. There was no way to tell, no landmarks to gauge his descent. Then his light swept the skeletal remains of trees reaching up from the lake bottom. Damn, he hadn’t counted on any trees! He used the flippers to kick gently, to stop his descent, while he untied the line around his waist. Last thing he needed was to get tangled around a bunch of branches, get stuck down there in a panic, air running out. T.J. might freak out a little when the rope went slack, but screw him, he’d have to deal with it.

Free of the line now, Vinnie swam parallel to the treetops and began his search for the sunken Porsche. He and T.J. had agreed that they were damn close to the original location. But it could be fifty or a hundred feet off in any direction. This could take awhile.

In the stands, Marlin saw another man rise to his feet, not far from Mameli. Marlin had no problem remembering this guy, because his sneer was operating at full strength.

“There’s no reason to be a jackass.” Tommy Peabody spat the words out with venom, and Mameli halted his clumsy Indian dance. The room went silent except for a few hushed murmurs.

The two men locked eyes for a moment and the audience watched with rapt attention. Finally, Mameli smirked, put his hand against his chest, and said, “Me? You callin’ me a jackass?”

“If the horseshoe fits.”

That got several nervous giggles, the crowd treating it as a good-natured joke, like: Okay, you boys have had your fun, now let’s settle down and get back to business. But Peabody was standing up straighter now, looking a little more confident, ready for action.