The Stranger in the Lifeboat

www.ajpdf.com
happy. He said reporters would want to talk to that drifter, so LeFleur had
better produce him quickly.
“Don’t screw this up, Jarty. It could make a big difference to Montserrat.”
“What do you mean?”
“Tourism is in the crapper. Who’s coming here now except creepers who
want a death tour of the exclusion zone? This is our chance to change that.”
“How?”
“By changing the story. Let Montserrat be known for something besides
the volcano. This guy was rich, Jarty. All his friends were rich—and famous,
too. There’ll be a lot of eyes on this.”
LeFleur was taken aback. “People died in that raft, Lenny. You don’t build
tourism off of that.”
Sprague tilted his head. “How do you know people died in that raft?”
“I … don’t,” LeFleur stammered. “I assumed—”
“Don’t assume, OK? Just bring me the guy who found it.”
When LeFleur pulled up to his office, he was thinking about the notebook
and the pages he had read. He thought about the stranger on the raft refusing
at first to save the others.
I can only do that when everyone here believes I am who I say I am.
LeFleur balked at that part. But then, he’d stopped relying on God right
after his daughter died. There was no place in his mind for a benevolent force
that wasn’t benevolent when it came to a four-year-old. Praying was a waste.
Church was a waste. Even worse. It was a weakness.
A crutch that let you dump your misfortune on some make-believe
scale that would balance when you died and reached a “better” Heaven. What
crap. The way LeFleur saw it now, you either ran from a volcano or you
stayed and shook a fist at it.
As he entered his office, Katrina was hanging up the phone. She seemed
upset.
“There you are. I’ve been trying to call you!”
“I turned my cell off. A reporter was bugging me.”
“The man is gone.”
“Rom?”
“He never told me his name. He sat on the porch for two hours. I offered
him some ginger beer, and he said OK. But when I brought it out, he was