The familiar sound of drumsticks dancing across a rod cymbal interlace with her thoughts. Haunting Eastern guitar licks reach out, feeding her sorrow, yet somehow soothing her. Memories of Iz flash across her mind’s eye. A deep sadness refuels her spent emotions as the lyrics tear at her heart, pushing her once more over the edge. Hot tears blind her as Jim Morrison’s melodic verse echoes in her ears.

This is the End … beautiful friend,

This is the End … my only friend, the End.

Mesmerized by the haunting epitaph, she lifts her head from the steering wheel as the first droplets of rain splatter across the windshield. She closes her eyes to the deluge as memories of Iz and Edie and Mick swirl uncontrollably across her mind’s eye.

“You look tired, Kiddo…”

“Just come home…”

Lost in a romance, wilderness of pain,

“If I wasn’t locked up … do you think … do you think you could have loved me?”

And all … the children … are insane, Waiting for the summer rain, yeahhh …

“Four Ahau, three Kankin. You know what day that is, don’t you, Dominique?”

“Do you believe in God?”

“You look tired, Kiddo…”

“Do you believe in evil?”

There’s danger on the edge of town …

“You have to do something! The Chicxulub crater—the clock’s ticking…”

“Doll, you’re only one person. You can’t expect to save the world…”

“The clock’s ticking … and all of us are going to die!”

“You can’t expect to save the world…”

“The clock’s ticking…”

Father, I want to kill you …

Dominique slumps forward against the steering wheel, her sobs competing with Jim Morrison’s rants of Oedipal lust.

Mellowing again, as the Eastern licks regain control.

This is the End … beautiful friend,

This is the End … my only friend, the End,

“None of us have any control over the deck or the cards we’re dealt. What we do have is total responsibility as to how we play the hand.” The Spyder’s engine jumps to life, startling her.

This is the End …

She shuts off the sound system and wipes the tears from her eyes as the rain continues pelting the windshield. Glances up, staring at herself in the rearview mirror.

Play the hand that’s dealt.

For several minutes, she continues staring straight ahead, determination replacing grief as her mind focuses on a plan. Then she activates the car phone and dials Rabbi Steinberg’s number.

“It’s me. No, I’m still downstairs. There’s something important I have to do before I head over to Sanibel, but I need your help.”

Chapter 14

Chapter 14

NOVEMBER 25, 2012
MIAMI, FLORIDA.

9:54 P.M.