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turning to page one
Ranger, sheriff, and state police cars are parked near the van and Ford. Lots of sweating, uniformed people. The pillowcases have been emptied, the plants lie on black plastic sheets. A guy sprinkles water on them. Laroche enthusiastically helps Ranger Mike Owen catalogue the flowers. The Indians lean against their car, bored and smoking. Nirvana seeps tinnily out the car window.
LAROCHE
... and what we have here, my friend, is
... thirteen Encyclia Cochleata... four
Encyclia Tampensis --
MIKE OWEN
I'm sorry, Encyclia what?
LAROCHE
(pointing to each)
Coch-le-ata. Tem-pen-sis.
(checks Owen's spelling)
Okay, let's see, twenty-two Epidendrum
Nocturnum. A very good haul. Two
Catopsi Floribunda. Three Polyrrhiza
Lindenii, the ghost orchid. What I
really came for. These sweeties grow
nowhere in the U.S. except in your swamp.
MIKE OWEN
That true? Boy, you really know your
plants, Mr. Laroche.
LAROCHE
Yeah. I do. I'm one of the world's
foremost experts. But that'll all be
revealed at the hearing.