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bad water。 Even had the pros known the full truth； it was unlikely they would have given up and packed their rods…not with so much at stake。 Deep in every angler's soul is a secret confidence in his own special prowess that impels him to keep fishing in the face of mon sense； basic science； financial ruin； and even natural disasters。 In the maddening campaign at Lunker Lakes； whole tackleboxes were emptied and no secret weapon was left unsheathed。 The putrid waters were plumbed by lures of every imaginable size and color； retrieved through every navigable depth at every possible speed。 By midday it became obvious that even the most sophisticated angling technology in the world would not induce these fish to eat。
As they tediously rowed the skiff through the network of long canals； Jim Tile and Al Garcia detected angst on the faces of other petitors。
〃They don't look like they're having much fun；〃 Garcia said。
〃They don't know what fun is；〃 said Jim Tile； taking his turn at the oars。 〃This here's fun。〃
With each pull the truth was sinking in： even if they reached the brushpile and did what Skink told them； they'd probably never get back to the dock by sunset。 Not rowing。
But they had to try。
〃Step on it； chicoj〃 Al Garcia said。 〃Oxford's gaining on us。〃
At that moment； on the westernmost end of Lunker Lake Number Seven； Dennis Gault was refolding the waterproof map that his helicopter pilot had marked for him。 Lanie was up in the pedestal seat； reading from a stack of Cosmos she'd brought along to kill time。 Her nose shone with Hawaiian tanning butter。
Dennis Gault breathed on his sunglasses and wiped each lens with a tissue。 He tested them against the sun before putting them on。 Scanning his arsenal； he selected a plug…casting outfit with a brand…new Double Whammy tied to the end of the line。 He tested the sharpness of the hook against his thumbnail； and grinned in self…satisfaction when the barb stuck fast。 Then he squirted the lure three times with Happy Gland Bass Bolero。
Finally Gault was ready。 He reared back and fired the spinnerbait to the exact spot where the sunken brushpile should have been。
〃e on； mother；〃 he said。 〃Suck on this。〃
〃Explain to me；〃 the Reverend Charles Weeb said from the barber chair； 〃exactly how that shit got on the air。〃
〃The promo spot？〃 Deacon Johnson asked。
〃Yes； Izzy。 With all the police cars。〃
〃It was a live remote； Charles； just like you wanted。 We interrupt our regular programming to take you to the Dickie Lockhart Memorial Bass Blasters blah； blah； blah。 Tune in later for the exciting finish。'〃
〃Sixteen frigging cop cars； Izzy…it looked like a dope raid； not a fishing tournament。〃
〃It wasn't like we invited them。〃
〃Oh no；〃 Charlie Weeb said； 〃you went one better。 You beamed them into eleven million households。〃
Deacon Johnson said； 〃We'd already paid for the satellite time； Charles。 I think you're overreacting。〃
Weeb squirmed impatiently while the barber worked on his bushy blond eyebrows。 He thought： Maybe Izzys right； maybe the cop cars weren't so bad。 Might even get viewers curious； jack up the ratings。
〃May I bring him in now？〃 Deacon Johnson asked。
〃Sure； Izzy。〃 Weeb was done with his haircut。 He gave the barber a hundred dollars and told him to go home。 Weeb checked himself in the mirror and splashed on some Old Spice。 Then he went to the closet and selected a pale raspberry suit； one of his favorites。 He was stepping into the shiny flared trousers when Deacon Johnson returned with die designated sinner。
〃Well； you're certainly a big fella；〃 Weeb said。
〃I must be；〃 said the man。
〃Deacon Johnson tells me you're blind。〃
〃Not pletely。〃
〃Well； no； of course not；〃 Reverend Weeb said。 〃No child of God is pletely blind； not in the spiritual sense。 His eyes are your eyes。〃
〃That's damn good to know。〃
〃What's your name； sinner？〃
〃They call me Skink。〃
〃What's that； Scandinavian or something？ Skink。〃 Weeb frowned。 〃Would you mind； Mr。 Skink； if today you took a biblical name？ Say； Jeremiah？〃
〃Sure。〃
〃That's excellent。〃 Reverend Weeb was worried about the man's braided hair； and he pantomimed his concern to Deacon Johnson。
〃The hair stays；〃 Skink said。
〃It's not that bad；〃 Deacon Johnson interjected。 〃Actually； he looks a little like one of the Oak Ridge Boys。〃
Charlie Weeb conceded the point。 He said； 〃Mr。 Skink； I guess they told you how this works。 We've got a dress rehearsal in about twenty minutes； but I want to warn you： the real thing is much different； much more 。。。 emotional。 You ever been to a televised tent healing before？〃
〃Nope。〃
〃People cry； scream； drool； tremble； fall down on the floor。 It's a joyous； joyous moment。 And the better you are； the more joyous it is。〃
〃What I want to know；〃 Skink said； 〃is do I really get healed？〃
Reverend Weeb smiled avuncularly and flicked the lint off his raspberry lapels。 〃Mr。 Skink； there are two kinds of healings。 One is a physical revelation； the other is spiritual。 No one but the Lord himself can foretell what will happen this afternoon…probably a genuine miracle…but at the very least； I promise your eyes will be healed in the spiritual sense。〃
〃That won't help me pass the driver's test； will it？〃
Charlie Weeb coughed lightly。 〃Did Deacon Johnson mention that we pay in cash？〃
At five sharp； the special live edition of Jesus in Tour Living Room flashed via satellite across the far reaches of the Outdoor Christian Network。 Radiant and cool； the Reverend Charles Weeb appeared behind his pink plaster pulpit and weled America to the scenic and friendly new munity of Lunker Lakes； Florida。
〃We are particularly delighted to be joined by hundreds of Christian brothers and sisters who flew all the way down here to share this exciting day with us。 Thank you all for your love； your prayers； and your down payments 。。。 as you've seen for yourself； Florida is still a paradise； a place of peacefulness； of inner reflection； of celebrating God's glorious work by celebrating nature 。。。 〃
Camera number one swung skyward。
〃And see there； as I speak；〃 said Reverend Weeb； 〃eagles soar over this beautiful new Elysium！〃
The high…soaring birds were not eagles； but mon brown turkey vultures。 The cameraman was under strict instructions to avoid close…ups。
Camera number two panned to the audience…starchy； contented； attentive faces； except for one man in the front row； who was not applauding。 He wore an ill…fitting sharkskin suit； a frayed straw hat； and black sunglasses。 He did not look like a happy Christian soldier； more like Charles Manson on steroids。 Camera two did not linger on his face for long。
Charlie Weeb didn't call on him for twenty minutes。 By that time the audience throbbed in a damp and weepy frenzy。 As Weeb had predicted； fat women were fainting left and right。 Grown men were bawling like babies。
At a nod from Reverend Weeb； two young deacons in dove…white suits led the blind man to the stage。
〃You poor wretched sinner；〃 Weeb said。 〃What is your name？〃
〃Jeremiah Skink。〃
〃Ah； Jeremiah！〃
The audience roared。
〃Jeremiah； do you believe in miracles？〃
〃Yes； Brother Weeb；〃 Skink said。 〃Yes； I do。〃
〃Do you believe the Lord is here at Lunker Lakes today？〃
〃I believe he's here with you；〃 Skink said； reciting the lines； which had been cut drastically due to problems at rehearsal。
〃And； Jeremiah； do you believe he watches over his children？〃
〃He loves us all；〃 Skink said。
〃You have been blind； lo； for how long？〃
〃Lo； for quite a while；〃 Skink said。 〃And the doctors have given up on you？〃
〃Totally； Reverend Weeb。〃
〃And you've even given up on yourself； haven't you； brother？〃
〃Amen；〃 Skink said； as a Minicam zoomed in on the sunglasses。 He was mad at himself for caving in about the straw hat and sharkskin suit。
Reverend Weeb dabbed his forehead with a kerchief and rested a pudgy pink hand on Skink's shoulder。
〃Jeremiah；〃 he said momentously； 〃on this glorious tropical day that God has given us； on a day when Christian sportsmen are reaping fortunes from these pristine waters behind us； on such a day it is God's wish that you should see again。 You should see the glory of his sunshine and his sky and the breathtaking natural beauty of his modestly priced family town…home munity。 Would you like to see that； Jeremiah？ Would you like to see again？〃
〃You bet your ass；〃 Skink said； deviating slightly from the script。
Reverend Weeb's eyebrows jumped； but he didn't lose tempo。 〃Jeremiah；〃 he went on； 〃I'm going to ask these good Christian people who are witnessing with us today at Lunker Lakes to join hands with one another。 And all of you at home； put down your Bibles and join hands in your living room。 And I myself will take your hands； Jeremiah； and together we will beseech Almighty Jesus to bless you with the gift of sight。〃
〃Amen；〃 Skink said。
〃Amen！〃 echoed the crowd。
〃Make this sinner see！〃 Reverend Weeb cried to the heavens。
〃See！〃 the crowd shouted。 〃See！ See！〃
Skink was getting into the act； in spite of himself。 〃See me； feel me！〃 he hollered。
〃See him； feel him！〃 the audience responded。 A strange new verse； but it had a pleasing cadence。
Hastily Reverend Weeb steered the prayer chant back to more conventional exhortations。 〃God； save this wretched sinner！〃
〃Save him！〃 echoed the crowd。
Like a turtle suddenly caught on the highway； Reverend Weeb retracted his neck； drew in his extremities； and blinked his eyes。 The trance lasted a full minute before he snapped out。 Raising his arms above his head； he declared： 〃The time is nigh。 Jesus is ing to our living room！〃
The audience waited rapturously。 The Minicam was so close you could have counted the pores on Charlie Weeb's nose。
〃Jeremiah？〃 he said。 〃Repeat after me： 'Jesus； let me see your face。'〃
Skink repeated it。
〃And； 'Jesus； let me see the sunshine。' 〃
〃Jesus； let me see the sunshine。〃
〃And； 'Jesus； let me see the pure Christian glory of your newest creation； Lunker Lakes。'〃
〃Ditto；〃 Skink said。 Now came the fun part。
〃The Lord has spoken；〃 Weeb declared。 〃Jeremiah； my dear Christian brother； remove thy Wayfarers！〃
Skink took off the sunglasses and tucked them in the top pocket of the suit。 A ripple of shock passed through the audience。 Skink had not allowed the makeup girls near his face。 The Minicams backed off fast。
Averting his eyes； Reverend Weeb bellowed： 〃Jeremiah； are you truly healed？〃
〃Oh yes； Brother Weeb。〃
〃And what is it you see？〃
〃A great man in a raspberry suit。〃
The audience applauded。 Many shouted febrile praises to the heavens。
Beaming modestly； Reverend Weeb pressed on： 〃And； Jeremiah； above my head there is a joyous sign…a sign invisible to your eyes only a few short moments ago。 Tell us what it says。〃
This was Skink's big cue； the lead…in to the live tournament coverage。 Since it was assumed he would still be mostly blind after the healing； Skink had been asked to memorize the banner and pretend to be reading it on the air。 The banner said： 〃Lunker Lakes Presents the Dickie Lockhart Memorial Bass Blasters Classic。〃
But those were not the words that Skink intended to say into the microphone。
Charlie Weeb waited three long beats。 〃Jeremiah？〃
Skink raised his eyes to the banner。
〃Jeremiah； please；〃 Weeb said； 〃what does the sign say？〃
〃It says： 'Squeeze My Lemon； Baby。' 〃
A hot prickly silence fell over the stage。 Terror filled the face of the Reverend Charles Weeb。 His mouth hung open and his gleaming bonded caps clacked vigorously； but no spiritual words issued forth。
The big blind man with the pulpy face began to weep。
〃Thank you； Lord。 Thank you； Brother Weeb。 Thanks for everything。〃
With that； Skink turned to face camera one。
And winked。
And when he winked； the amber glass owl eye popped from the hole in his head and bounced on the stage with the sharp crack of a marble。 They heard it all the way in the back row。
〃Oh； I can see again； Brother Weeb；〃 the formerly blind man cried。 〃e； let me embrace you as the Lord embraced me。〃
With simian arms Skink reached out and seized the Minicam and pulled it to his face。
〃Squeeze my lemon； baby！〃 he moaned； mashing his lips to the lens。
In the