I waited a while and then walked down to the stage. Hednut had his arm on Pepsi's shoulder and from the serious look on the mayor's face, was in the middle of talking man-to-man.
«Pepsi?»
«Hi, Mom. Hednut says he knows Martio.»
The other turned to me and bowed deeply. «Weasel tippler, thread clock.»
We were back to Sizzling Thumb-talk. Where was Mr. Tracy?
To my surprise, Pepsi let out his silliest laugh. When he'd calmed down a little, he spluttered out, «Did you understand that, Mom? Hednut says the last time he saw _you_, you always lost your shoes!»
As Hednut rattled on and Pepsi followed, I realized too well that he understood this crazy talk word for word now. I clenched both fists very tightly and was scared. The second Bone, or Pepsi's growing powers, or something equally strong was quickly taking him far away from me toward . . . what?
«Mr. Tracy, I don't understand _anything_.»
Our friends had been waiting for us outside the amphitheater. All three congratulated Pepsi and admired the Bone, but for the most part they were very cool about his recent accomplishment.
«If building these 'Wind's Lips' is supposed to be such a big thing, how come everyone in there was so ho-hum about it after he did it?»
«Because it's been done so many times before, Cullen. You did it too when you were young.»
«I did? _I_ built those Lips?»
«You did.»
«And I won the Bone? The exact same one?»
«Yes.»
I sucked the inside of one cheek before going on, «What happened after that? After I got it?»
«There are five Bones, Cullen. Do you remember their names yet?»
«Yes, all of the names came to me today when we were walking around town. Obnoy, Kat, Domenica, Slee and Min.»
«That's right. Together they represent the Four Strokes of Rondua and the capital, Kempinski.
«If someone wants to rule Rondua, they must possess all five of the Bones. What's wonderful about the rule is that to acquire each one, a person must posses a certain good quality. For example, to find the first, Obnoy, one must be loved; must be lov_able_. Taken together, these qualities are what would make someone a great ruler.»
«Obnoy was the one I gave to Sizzling Thumb?»
«You gave him your _half_. Only Pepsi's was important. The one he achieved this afternoon, Kat, could only be got with imagination and inventiveness. Rebuilding 'The Wind's Lips' for Kempinski proved he had those qualities.»
«But you said even I built them once.» I watched Pepsi walking in front of me, his small white hand resting on the camel's large brown flank.
«Yes, when you were a girl we were all very excited because you grabbed up the first four Bones so quickly. We were sure you would be the next ruler. We had great hopes.»
«But then I flopped, eh?»
«Then you flopped.»
«Why? What did I do wrong?»
«For the Fifth Bone. Min, you needed very great courage, and you didn't have it.»
«Uh oh.»
We walked on in a gloomy silence, my eyes hard on my little son's small back. I had a bad, dry taste inside my mouth. «Is he going to be in a lot of danger, Mr. Tracy?»
The dog smiled cheerlessly and dipped his head yes.
6
Weber Gregston called me.
«What do _you_ want? How did you get my number?»
«From the phone book. I called all the Jameses. Look, I've got to talk to you. I'm sorry for what happened.»
«Fine, you're sorry. Now go away. Leave me alone.»
«I can't, it's too important. Please don't hang up, Cullen. Look, I _have_ to see you.»
His voice was human and fragile. It was as if we were both fifteen and he was asking me out for a first date. I was positive his hands were shaking.
«Weber, tell me something, okay? Are your hands shaking? Tell the truth.»
He laughed. «Yes. How did you know? I took my gloves off a minute ago because they were so hot.»
«Telepathy. What do you want to talk about?»
«I want to apologize. I want to tell you. . . . Look, I have to see you. You have to say yes, just give me a few minutes.»
«I don't know. Your reasons are lousy. I accept your apology, but what else is there to talk about? You were rude, you're apologizing, so now it's over. _Basta finito_.»
«Cullen, I've been standing in this . . . in this phone booth for half an hour, sweating bullets and dialing wrong numbers. You don't know how damned hard it was for me to get up the nerve to get in touch with you. I'm telling you the truth.»
I didn't change one piece of clothing (although I was tempted to) or put on any makeup. I took Mae along in her stroller for added insurance. The first time I had met Weber Gregston, I had tried to look like a dream. Now I looked like the «Before» part of a dandruff commercial.
I met him a few blocks from the house. He stood on a corner with his hands in the pockets of a Gianni Versace leather jacket I had seen advertised that month in _Vogue_. It was beyond beautiful, and the kind of thing you'd think a famous movie director _would_ wear. I liked seeing his big bulk in it; it softened some of the hard edges of his tough-guy face.
«Oh, am I glad you came! Is that your baby?» He looked pleased.
«That's my baby.»
«Hello, baby. What's his name?»
«Mae.»
«Hiya, Mae. Funny name for a boy.»
Despite an earlier resolve to be cold and skeptical with him, I burst out laughing. I love people who say funny, crooked things. Weber looked at me, genuinely surprised I had laughed at his joke.
«What do you want, Weber? Don't pull down like that on your pockets. You'll stretch the leather.»
«I feel nine years old, Cullen. I've been thinking about you for a week. I was supposed to be in Florida today, but I stayed here because of you. Honest to God! Because of you!»
«Don't sound so astonished – you'll ruin the compliment! I don't understand, Weber. The last time I saw you, you were nasty and fresh. Today you want to go steady with me. I think you'd better go to Florida.» I checked Mae to see if she was still properly tucked in.
«No, it's not that simple. There's more to it. Can we go somewhere and talk?»
«Nope, but I have some shopping to do and you can come along if you like.»
«Okay, I guess that'll have to do. Are you sure you don't want to have a sandwich? We can take Mae and get him a hamburger.»
I was enjoying my little, momentary power over him and wasn't about to give it up for a sandwich. «No. You either go with us to the market or _niente_.»
Once inside the market, he slipped on a pair of battered hornrimmed glasses which made him look very different – sort of like a red-headed Clark Kent.
He caught me sizing him up in them.
«You know where I got these glasses? Aren't they ugly? They belonged to my grandfather, Zolie Dale. Everyone in the family called him Zolie Dale the Illiterate though, because he couldn't read. Isn't that a terrible handle to give someone?»
«How did you get the glasses?»
«That's the interesting part of the story. The last time I ever saw him, he was sick in bed with stomach cancer, he told me to take the glasses when he died and have them changed to my prescription. 'That way, boy, they'll be able to spend part of their life reading up on all the things they missed.'
Weber switched into a perfect Southern accent when he pretended to be his grandfather.
We left the stroller in the doorway and he slid Mae into the baby seat of the metal cart. It felt strange doing these small, familiar, intimate things with someone so famous. For a while I dreamed I was in a movie with him; somewhere off in the distance was a camera and a whole slew of people watching us shoot the scene. «Take One – Cullen and Weber in the supermarket. Roll 'em!»