Free A Pagan's Nightmare by Ray Blackston Page A

on his shirt. “Aren’t island people usually more friendly?
     Except for Dock Boy, everyone acts suspicious of us.”
    Lanny dismissed the theory. “It’s just because
we’re
suspicious. That makes everyone suspicious in return. It’s a vicious cycle.”
    By 7:00 p.m. both men were exhausted from walking and decided their best course was to blend in and get something to eat.
     Ned could blend with the best of them, and in no time he’d convinced Lanny to join him in purchasing Bermuda shorts from a
     street vendor.
    Lanny went for dark blue shorts, Ned for lemon yellow. Theychanged in a public restroom and wore their wares to the local eatery next door.
    After a dinner of grouper and boiled shrimp they walked out into the street at dusk, where Lanny stopped in mid-stride, eyes
     darting.
Not again!
Across the street, in the window of the post office, hung a WANTED poster—the same one they’d seen in the convenience store
     east of Orlando.
    Both men ducked behind palm trees, scanning the street for bad guys.
    Finally Ned whispered, “It’s only one poster, Lann-o. No one suspects us yet. Just wear your sunglasses and follow me.” Ned
     strode up the street as if he knew what he was doing.
    Lanny walked briskly beside him, tugging his shades low on his nose to see in the twilight. “I say we leave the island.”
    “No, I say we duck into someplace dark, somewhere public. This is no time to panic.”
    Three minutes later they arrived late at Manuel’s Tiki Theatre. In the vacant lobby—which was crafted of bamboo poles and
     affixed with posters of classic movies—Ned checked to see which film was featured. The Tiki Theatre had only one screen, and
     on the door hung a small chalkboard:
    Tonight our movie is the
1997
Academy
    Award Winner, TITANIC.
    Refreshments arc BYOC (bring your own coconut).
    bring whatever, except for blenders.
    Show starts at 6:45
    Donation: $5.00
    Lanny checked his watch—8:17 p.m. “Maybe we shouldn’t,” he said to Ned. “It’s too risky, plus the show will be halfway over
     at least.”
    “But it’s BYOC, not BYOP,” Ned countered. He motioned toward the entrance with his head, and Lanny reluctantly followed. Both
     men stuffed a five into the donation box, and Ned pulled open the door to the theatre.
    It was small, as island theatres go. Most of the sixty seats were taken, but Ned and Lanny found two together in the third
     row. They settled in, and slouched a bit as the scent of coconut and strawberries filled their nostrils.
    The two men looked up at the screen to see Jack at the rail of the
Titanic,
watching solemnly as Rose was lowered away in a lifeboat.
    Lanny heard sniffles from the row behind him. He leaned over to Ned and whispered, “You’ve seen this before?”
    “Twice,” Ned whispered back. “You?”
    “Four times. Miranda owns the DVD.”
    Sniffles grew louder in the Tiki Theatre as the great ship began to sink. Rose had scrambled out of the lifeboat to rejoin
     Jack, and now the two were together again on the teetering vessel, struggling past fellow passengers and sprinting for the
     railing. Soon the stern of the
Titanic
hung in the air. Jack and Rose clung desperately to the railing. The great ship foundered and went under, and in seconds
     the young lovers were flailing in the frigid Atlantic. Their only chance was to stay afloat in the ocean and hope someone
     found them.
    Ned blinked back a tear as the tragedy unfolded—Rose lay on the chunk of wood as Jack clung freezing to its side. Soon Jack
     was frozen stiff. But as Rose was about to utter her famous line, “I’ll never let go, Jack. I’ll never let go,” her words
     instead came out, “I’ll never use a swear word, Jack. I’ll never use a swear word.”
    No one else in the theatre even blinked at the edit. It was as if they all expected Rose to speak those very lines.
    But not Ned and Lanny. Even before the lifeboat found Rose, and well before the ten-foot tall WANTED photos of Ned