The sun was just starting to come up over the white dome of the campus planetarium, but the night cool had already burned out of the air. Nobody else was in the San Antonio College parking lot.
The lady in the driver's seat hadn't moved. "I usually wear a Tshirt, says 'Master.' It's in the wash." I didn't know I was talking to a master." He made a little cough in the back of his throat. Lindsey opened his mouth like he was about to say something. "That's an unbalanced stance, parallel footing like that." "You should tell them to keep their feet at fortyfive degrees," I suggested. It didn't look like anybody was achieving inner tranquillity. Two other students, both middleaged Anglo guys with potbellies and pony tails, lumbered through the routine as best they could, frowning, sweating a lot. Next to her a little Latina lady was doing her moves nervously, pushing the air with her palms and keeping her eyes tightly shut as if she was afraid of what she might touch. The pink ovoid woman was just getting up. Lindsey Buckingham rubbed the back of his neck and glared at me. She ended up rolling on her rump like she'd been shot. One of them, a short ovoid woman in pink sweats, was trying to squat for Snake Creeps Down. I guess maybe it was hard for Lindsey's folks to concentrate. He made airplane sounds at the top of his lungs, which was a lot of lungs for a fouryearold, then pointed his toes like machinegun barrels and started firing. If the lady in the Cougar was going to meet somebody, it should've happened by now.Ī few feet to my left, Jem made another pass on the swing set, strafing Lindsey Buckingham's students as he came down. He'd walked over from his tai chi group and sounded out of breath, like he'd been working the moves too hard. He was also blocking my camera angle on the blue '68 Cougar across San Pedro Park, eighty yards away.
He had the 'Fro and the beard and the loosefitting black martial arts pyjamas that just screamed mod.
He had that Lindsey Buckingham funhousemirror kind of body-unnaturally tall, bulbous in the wrong places.
#Other books by rick riordan mac#
"Could you please tell your kid to be quiet?" The guy standing in front of my park bench looked like he'd stepped off a Fleetwood Mac album cover, circa 1976.
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