“You do?” I whispered.
She shrugged but went for it anyway. The van continued to make frightening noises, emitting more smoke than ever.
“I don’t think you should touch it!” I yelled. “It looks hot!”
“Shut up, Sandy!” she shot back at me, but she approached as though it might blow with the next crunch of her boot against the grass.
In the next instant, that was exactly what it sounded like it did—blow. Fire shot out of the motor, making us all run in the opposite direction. Guido was at my back, guiding me like he was some bodyguard from a movie. The men hustled the rest of the women toward their van.
The code-red situation was all in vain.
A moment later, a humungous bus came around the corner and hit the rear of our smoking van, sending it off the side of the cliff, the sound of the radio still playing growing more distant as it fell.
It takes two, baby,was its last goodbye to us as it plummeted to its death.
“What. The. Fuck—” Violet said, almost in slow time “—Just. Happened.”
“Ah,” Guido said, clearly attempting to gain his bearings. “You did not pull thefurgoncinoclose enough to the side.”
“I couldn’t have pulled any closer! Or that would’ve been us!”
“Sì,” he said, wiping his brow with his hand. “Good thing it was not, ah? The Lord helped.” He glanced at me, as if to say, the Lord helpedme, because if something would have happened toyou…
As if moved by the spirit of the van, the sixteen of us cautiously moved toward the edge of the cliffside, not a word spoken between us. The van was gone. Poof. It had disappeared. The sea had taken it to her watery grave as some prize. I took out my camera and snapped off a picture.
“Well,” Collette said, attempting to light up a cigarette and waving a hand in her French way. “At least the fire is out, no?”
I screeched. Actually screeched with laughter. Guido sent me a curious look. He clearly thought I had cracked and gone into shock. Perhaps I had, but the entire situation was entirely too hilarious. Then it caught on the wind. The eight women all began to screech and laugh.
“Dio aiutami!”God help me, Guido pleaded to the sky, and then started snapping off Italian instructions to the rest of the men.
Ciro and another one of the men had gone to the large bus that had clipped us, sending our smaller van off to Davy Jones’ Locker. Guido’s voice talking to my husband should have sobered me up some, but it didn’t. It made me laugh even harder.
“Sì,” Guido was saying, pacing around. Every once in a while he’d glance down at the sea. “That is what I said. Your ears are not deceiving you. It went over.Boom.Gone. No, I do not think the fire was caused from tampering. Ah, yes, that is your wife. She is, ah, indisposed at the moment.”
Actually, I was quite well, rolling around in the soft, cool tufts of grass, laughing my brains out. The grass here even smelled sweet, like dew and honeysuckle.
I looked up just as Guido’s hand came down. “Your husband would like a word.”
“Of course!” I laughed even harder.
“Scarlett.” The fire in his voice was hot. He wanted me to pull myself together. But I couldn’t.
“It went over,” I said, my voice turbulent. “It takes two, baby, and then, a tap from the bus, andwheeeewent our van!”
“Whee!” Carmen repeated, like a toddler.
“That bitch was smoking too!” Violet put in, doubled up.
“Fuck,” he said, and I could tell he was pacing. “Why is this all so funny? There’s nothing remotely fucking funny about any of this, Scarlett.”
Laughter hit me even harder. I handed Guido his phone. I couldn’t breathe, much less talk. Somewhere deep inside of my head I wondered why it was all so funny. Then the scene would play in slow motion and the giggles would tickle me again.
Ciro and his man came back then, another man in a suit following behind. He didn’t look happy. When he took notice of the women laughing so hard that they were crying, he said something in Spanish that conveyed his concern for us.
“This is Carlos García,” Ciro said, introducing the man to Guido. “The bus is his. It is almost full but can accommodate the sixteen of us. This way we leave no one behind on this—” he waved a hand at the road, encompassing its dangers.
Guido still had the phone up to his ear. I could hear Brando’s voice on the other end. Guido blinked, then his eyebrows rose, as if he had forgotten Brando was on the line.
