Insane City (12 page)

Seth nodded, thinking about Tina’s dress, which cost $137,000, plus a trip to London, and featured

pearls that had once been worn by Elizabeth Taylor, and those were not even the most important pearls it

featured. “I get what you’re saying,” he said. “But can’t you have both things? A really nice wedding
and

you’re really in love?”

“Of course you can. I’m sure you will. I’m just saying, I know it’s a nice ring, but she’s marrying

you
, not the ring, right?”

“Right,” said Seth, “but . . .
Jesus
.” He swerved to avoid a motorist, who, having missed his exit,

was backing up on the interstate. “Did you
see
that?”

“Welcome to Miami,” said Cyndi.

“OK, but what I’m saying, about the ring,” said Seth. “She put a lot of time and effort into that ring.

Into this whole wedding. It’s very important to her. She’s the kind of person who, whatever she does, she

wants to do it perfectly. That’s what makes her happy. I want her to be happy.”

“Right, and because you care so much if she’s happy, that will make her happy. Not the ring. The

caring. She’s a smart lady. She’ll see that. She’ll see she’s lucky to have a man like you who really cares.

That’s more important than the dress, the ring, the wedding.”

“So let me ask you something,” said Seth. “The day you got married, let’s say your groom—this is

when you were still in love with him before you knew he was cheating on you—let’s say that right before

the wedding, you’re about to go down the aisle, let’s say he spilled ketchup all over your seven-hundred-

thirty-eight-dollar wedding dress.”

“First of all, it was seven hundred and forty-eight dollars, and, second of all, why would he have

ketchup when we’re about to walk down the aisle?”

“Don’t try to wiggle out of this. You know what I mean. If your groom did something stupid that

messed up your wedding, would you be, like, hey, I don’t care, I’m not marrying the dress, I’m just happy

to be with this man I truly love? Or would you be pissed off? The truth.”

She thought about it a few seconds, then said, “I would have killed him.”

“
Exactly.
So I appreciate the pep talk. But I gotta get the ring. Can you maybe call

whatshisname . . .”

“Duane.”

“Duane, right, can you call him and see if he had any luck at all?”

“Sure,” said Cyndi, pulling her phone from her purse.

They had reached Miami International Airport. Seth pulled up to the curb in front of Arrivals and left

Cyndi with the Escalade while he ran into Baggage Claim to find his parents.

He spotted their luggage first. In his youth it had embarrassed him on many a family trip: plastic

suitcases from the pre-wheels era in a violently pink hue, like large radioactive wads of bubble gum,

purchased from Sears on sale during the Carter administration. Sitting statue-still on a bench next to the

suitcases were Seth’s parents, Sid and Rose, wearing their standard travel attire: matching purple velour

tracksuits, also obtained at a steep discount, and pristine white sneakers. It was unclear to Seth why two

people who could take as long as ten minutes to walk across their own living room needed to dress as

though at any moment they were going to strip down and compete in the 100-meter high hurdles. But he

was long past questioning such things.

He put a smile on his face and strode forward, arms wide. “Mom! Dad!”

His mother turned and registered his presence, her face adopting the expression she had shown him

as long as he could remember—love tempered by the disappointment of a woman who had had just the

one child, relatively late in life, and had decided that motherhood was not all that it had been cracked up

to be.

“What happened to you?” she said.

“I’m really sorry, like I told you, I just got all hung up with wedding stuff and I . . .”

“No, I mean, you look terrible. You look like you were in an accident. Were you in an accident?”

Seth looked down at his wrinkled, still-damp clothes, rubbed his stubbled face, attempted to

straighten his salt-encrusted hair. “No, no accident, I just . . . I’ve been running around since we . . .”

“Was he in an accident?” said Sid.

“He says he wasn’t,” said Rose. “But he looks like he was. He’s a mess.”

“What kind of accident?” said Sid. Sid, though nearing eighty, could see and hear reasonably well if

he had to. But he preferred to perceive the world through the ever-present interface of Rose so that his

impressions and opinions would always be completely in sync with hers; this, Sid had learned over the

years, was the key to a peaceful marriage, if not necessarily a happy one.

“I didn’t say he was in an accident,” said Rose. “I said he
looks like
he was in an accident, but he

says he wasn’t in an accident.”

“Does he need to see a doctor?”

“Why would he need to see a doctor if he didn’t have an accident? What he needs is a bath, unless he

wants to get married looking like a homeless person.”

“I know, Mom. As soon as we get back to the hotel I’m gonna clean up. It’s just been . . .”

“I have to go to the bathroom,” said Sid.

“No you don’t,” said Rose. “You just went.”

“OK,” said Sid.

“All right, then!” said Seth. “The car’s outside. I’ll get these.”

His parents rose. He hefted the suitcases, which, to judge from their weight, contained railroad ties.

He took a few steps toward the exit, then glanced back to make sure his parents were following. He

continued to the door, then looked back again; his parents did not appear to have made any progress. They

had the mysterious ability that some older people have to walk without making any visible progress.

Sometimes, even though they clearly intended to go forward, they seemed to be going very, very slowly

backward.

Seth put down the suitcases and sighed.

“Well, look who’s here,” said a voice. “The lovely groom.”

Seth turned and saw Customs Agent Roberto Alvarez and his partner, Vincent Peppers, who was

holding the leash of Sienna the drug dog.

“Nice luggage,” said Alvarez, smirking at the pink blobs.

“It’s my parents’,” said Seth, nodding toward Rose and Sid.

Alvarez looked over and said, “They potheads, too?”

“Easy,” said Agent Peppers.

“This is what you do?” Seth said to Alvarez. “Hang around the airport hassling people?”

“Just doing my job,” said Alvarez. “Some of us have to work, you know. Can’t all marry rich girls

and have their daddies take care of us.”

“Easy,” repeated Peppers, edging between Alvarez and Seth.

Sid and Rose were finally getting close to the exit. Rose noticed the presence of the police officers

and, following procedure, relayed this information to Sid.

“Seth is talking with two police,” she said.

“Is he in trouble?” said Sid.

“Are you in trouble with the police?” said Rose.

“No, Mom,” said Seth. “It’s fine.”

“He says he’s not in trouble,” Rose informed Sid. “But I wouldn’t be surprised. You go around

looking like a homeless person, you get in trouble with the police.”

“What kind of trouble is he in?” said Sid.

Before Rose could update Sid, Sienna started whimpering, her nose pressed against one of the pink

suitcases.

“Well, well, well,” said Alvarez.

Seth stared at the dog. “You have got to be kidding me,” he said, more to Sienna than anybody else.

He looked at the Customs agents and pointed to his parents. “I mean, seriously. Do you
see
these two

people?”

“What I see,” said Alvarez, “is a highly trained U.S. Customs Service drug detection dog alerting on

a suitcase. Which is what is known as probable cause.”

Seth turned to Agent Peppers. “Seriously?” he said.

Peppers frowned, his eyes on Sienna, his mind on the phone call he received the day before from

somebody very high up the totem pole that he was very near the bottom of—somebody who could make

Peppers’s last seventeen months before retirement extremely unpleasant.

“Come on,” Peppers said, pulling the whimpering Sienna away from the suitcase.

“No way,” said Alvarez.

“I said, come
on
,” said Peppers, walking away.

“Jesus,” said Alvarez. He stared at Seth for a few seconds, Seth staring back, two guys meeting their

testosterone quotas. Then Alvarez was gone, too.

“I don’t see why they allow dogs in an airport,” said Rose. “It’s unsanitary.”

“I have to pee,” said Sid.

“No you don’t,” said Rose.

Seth sighed, picked up the suitcases and resumed leading the long, slow march to the car.

11

Cyndi was standing outside the Escalade, phone in hand. She was smiling.

“I got hold of Duane,” she said.

“And?” said Seth.

“He found your suitcase.”

“Yes!” said Seth. He put down his parents’ suitcases and hugged her, their bodies pressing together

for two seconds.

“Where is it?” said Seth.

“Well, that’s the thing,” said Cyndi.

“Is there a problem?”

“OK, what happened is, Duane got to the Clevelander and they had the suitcase and he got it, but then

he couldn’t bring it back to the Ritz because he had to go to an emergency at work.”

“I thought his job was walking around with a snake.”

“That’s his main job. But he works part-time at Primate Encounter.”

“Primate what?”

“Encounter. It’s this tourist attraction, they have, like, monkeys and gorillas, but also some snakes.

Duane fills in sometimes for the main snake guy, who’s sick today, so Duane had to go down there right

away because one of the snakes, I think he said anaconda, swallowed this lady’s backpack. She set it on

the wall so she could take a picture and it fell into the . . .”

“But he definitely has my suitcase? At Primate Adventure?”

“
Encounter.
Right. He has it in his brother’s truck, which he drove out there.”

“So he’s going to bring it to the Ritz?”

“Well, here’s the thing. He’s going to try to make the snake throw up the backpack because the lady’s

freaking out because all her stuff is in there, her passport and money and credit cards, plus Duane says it’s

not really that good for the snake, so he’s gonna try to get it to eat a rat that has some medicine inside it

that will make it throw up. I don’t mean the rat will throw up. I mean the medicine will make the
snake

throw up. But Duane has to figure out how to get the rat to eat the . . .”

“OK, so when he’s done with the snake, can he bring the suitcase over here?”

“Well, that’s the thing. He was gonna bring it here, but he got
another
call, from the Miccosukee

casino, which is also having a snake emergency. You know those pythons? In the Everglades? There’s

like a million of them out there, breeding like crazy, and one of them got into the casino and it . . .”

“So my suitcase is at the casino?”

“No, he’s gonna leave it at Primate Encounter because he says it’ll be crazy at the casino, and after

he catches the snake he might have to take it somewhere else.”

“So where is Primate Encounter?”

“It’s in the Redlands.”

“Is that close to here?”

“No, it’s way down in South Dade. It’s, like, maybe an hour.”

“Damn. I’ll have to go get it after I take everybody back to the hotel. Could you tell me how to get

there?”

“Sure. I can ride down there with you, if you want.”

“That’d be great.”

Sid and Rose had finally tottered all the way to the Escalade.

“It’s hot here,” said Rose. “How do people live here, in this heat?”

“What?” said Sid.

“I said, it’s hot,” said Rose.

“I know it’s hot. I’m standing right here. You think I can’t feel how hot it is?”

“Would you like me to get you some water?” said Cyndi.

“Who’re you?” said Rose.

“I’m Cyndi,” said Cyndi, extending her hand.

Rose ignored it, turned to Seth. “Who is she?”

“She’s a friend,” said Seth. “She’s helping out with the wedding.”

“Helping out doing what?” said Rose, eyeballing Cyndi’s dress.

“Is there water?” said Sid.

“I can get you some,” said Cyndi.

“He doesn’t need water,” said Rose. “He had some before.”

“What about my medicine?” said Sid.

“When we get to the hotel you’ll get your medicine.”

“Mom,” said Seth, “if he needs his medicine . . .”

“I gave him his heart medicine and his blood pressure,” said Rose. “He wants the brownies from the

suitcase.”

Seth’s head jerked around. “He wants the
what
?”