Lou peddled frantically as though astride an invisible bicycle. His arms pinwheeled to gain balance and shift himself into a seated position. He had heard someplace that going in butt first would do the least damage. Or maybe it was feet first. He also remembered to try to stay loose. Tight muscles would limit the cushion around the spine and contribute to compression fractures.

Of course, no maneuver would help a whit if he landed short.

The pool was coming up with dizzying speed. He could see now that he was going to hit water. His last thought before impact was whether he was about to land at the deep end, or whether, in fact, there even was a deep end. The force compressed his chest and stomach. Banshee wind and stinging rain lashed at his face.

It was time. He would survive this, or he would shatter and die.

He was upright now, about to hit legs and butt first—a cannonball from six stories with absolutely no idea what it was going to feel like when he hit, or if he was about to blow apart on the bottom. The impact was intense, and the simultaneous explosion was worthy of any cannon. Every bit of remaining air burst from his lungs. He pinched his nostrils just in time to keep water from shooting up them and through the top of his head.

A moment later, he hit bottom. The jolt was stunning, but not lethal. Disoriented, he flailed with his arms and foolishly tried to take a breath, filling his lungs with chlorinated water. With panic taking hold, he hit the bottom of the pool again, but this time he pushed off with his legs and shot upward, gagging mercilessly as his head broke the surface. Adrenaline and the realization that he was probably not dead carried him to the side of the pool.

Hanging on to the tile and coughing nonstop, he peered up at the balcony of his hotel room. Burke was there, silenced pistol in hand, taking aim. Then he lowered the weapon as a group of concerned parents with children in tow came rushing out of the lobby to Lou’s aide. Burke pointed two fingers at his own eyes, and then at Lou, before he vanished into the room. Groaning with the effort, Lou pulled himself out of the pool, and pushed himself to his feet. Burke was on his way down. Shivering from the shock of the ordeal, Lou eyed the crowd gathered around him.

“Kids,” he said, “don’t ever try this at home.”

Chapter 44

CHAPTER 44

Senator Huey Long’s Share Our Wealth program is emblematic of America’s failed entitlement policy. Choosing to forgo our agrarian roots, to turn our collective backs from extended family in exchange for urban living, to become dependent on handouts at the cost of self-reliance should have consequences not rewards.

—LANCASTER R. HILL, Climbing the Mountain, SAWYER RIVER BOOKS, 1941, P. 99–100