«The truth of the matter is, I made out my will six weeks ago because my lawyer was being annoying. I made Mae the beneficiary. I'm worth a little over four hundred thousand dollars. I wouldn't trust either of you thieves with it, but my goddaughter is going to go to Radcliffe if she likes. Neither of you has my permission to protest or even talk about it. _Basta_. Period.»
I looked at him and gave a very crooked smile. «Aw, Eliot, you old . . .»
Danny got up and embraced him. They held on to each other a good long time while I watched, clutching the forgotten leather jacket in my hands.
I had once thought strength of character was a hardening of oneself; an intricate protection system by which you reconciled yourself to the truths of life and learned not to let them bother you. But all systems of character building go right out of the window when you find there aren't anymore truths . . . or none you recognize.
After the incident with the jacket, I was very afraid to tell Danny what had happened with Weber Gregston and the new goings-on in Rondua. For the first time in our relationship, I began to doubt my husband and I truly hated that. I doubted him because he wasn't the person I wanted to confide in. Eliot, with his understanding of why people do naughty things sometimes, his sympathetic ear and wholehearted belief in the unknown _was_ the confidant I needed at that peculiar time in my life. I didn't want to close myself off or hide important things away from my husband, but I feared his lack of understanding. At best, he would sympathize. Eliot _empathized_ and instead of pushing me toward having my head examined again, he wanted to examine that head with me and try to make sense of the whole mishmash of events and powers.
«Oh big deal, Cullen! So you had an abortion. _Everyone's_ had an abortion; they're very old-hat. Even I had an abortion – my last lover, Judge Thompson.»
«'Judge'? That was his real name?»
«Yes, unfortunately. He was a small black man who wore a cowboy hat. He actually wanted me to buy him some spurs!»
«How come you never talk about your lovers, Eliot?»
«Because they all make me sad. I'm very unlucky in love. But I don't want to discuss them now. Do you see how right I was about this Rondua of yours? Everyone works out their troubles in their dreams. It's cheap analysis, you know? You had an abortion and you've felt horrible about it ever since. Somewhere in your mind you carried around this big bucket full of guilt, even though I think you're nuts to have done that. Anyway, with these Rondua dreams you're getting it out of your head. Great! Help that little Pepsi find the Bones of the Moon and you're homefree. How many have you got so far? Three?»
«Yes. The latest was the one for Fairness. Pepsi saved Felina's life and then let the Warm live.»
«What warm?»
«_The_ Warm – that was its name. It danced on the desert and tried to eat Felina.»
«Felina's the wolf?»
«Right. And Martio's the camel, Mr. Tracy's the dog – '
«– Who wears a black hat, right?»
«Right.»
The phone rang and Eliot got up to answer it. He spoke into the receiver a few seconds and then, surprisingly, held it out toward me with a very arch look on his face. «It's your friend Weber Gregston, dearie. How did he know my number?»
I took hold of the phone as if it were a dangerous snake. «Hello?»
«Hello, Cullen? Look, I'm sorry to call you there, but we _have_ to talk. We have to.» His voice said he wasn't kidding around – it sounded tired and very strained.
«What's the matter, Weber? Are you okay?» I wanted to thank him for all the cards and telegrams and other things, but something more important was up.
«No, I'm not. We have to meet – like immediately? I just got into town and I have to talk with you. I'm not fucking around or anything, Cullen. Please don't be coy with me – something bad is happening and I think it's your fault. I'm sorry, but it's true. Can we get together now? Is that possible?»
Eliot, his head glued to mine, nodded vigorously. I pointed to the baby and he whispered that he would stay with her.
«Okay, Weber. Where are you?»
«At the phone booth on your corner. Come down and we'll meet. Like, five minutes?»
«Okay. Hold tight and I'll be right down.»
I hung up and looked at Eliot. «What do you think?»
«He didn't sound too good, Cullen.»
«I know. What do you think's wrong?»
«Not love this time. He was too shook up.»
Weber stood in front of our building. He looked as if he'd come back from the dark side of the moon.
«Holy cow, Weber! What _happened_ to you?»
«That's what we're going to talk about. Where can we go?»
«Let's go to Lena's; it's just around the corner.»
He put both hands to his face and rubbed hard. His hair was wet and slicked back and his face was newly shaven, but there were little red nicks all over it. «I'm totally messed up. I haven't had a good night's sleep in a week.»
The restaurant was run by two nice women who served you heaps of good food and then left you alone. We sat at a table in the back, although it was late afternoon and the place was empty.
«What's up, Weber?»
He held up a hand to stop me. «Wait. First let me ask you a couple of questions. Who are Pepsi and Mr. Tracy?»
My head shot forward. «How do you know about them? Who told you?»
«No one told me anything. I dream them, Cullen. Like, every _night_ I dream about them! Pepsi, Mr. Tracy and you. You most of all. What's going on. Cullen? Who are they? I'm telling you, I don't sleep so well anymore. And you want to know when all this started? I figured it out the other night. It started right after I met you – after you knocked me down that day.»
«Tell me what you dream, Weber. Tell me exactly. Everything.»
«You know what I'm talking about, don't you?»
I felt a tension knot taking hold on the back of my neck. I remembered what Eliot had said about Weber being interested in me because I had «enchanted» him the day we met.
«Yes, I know what you mean. Go on. Welcome to Rondua.»
«Rondua! That's right! That's the name, isn't it?»
We talked for three hours without stopping. I felt no hesitation in telling him everything: about the abortion, the beginning of my dreams, Pepsi, the search for the Bones, the City of the Dead.
We got hungry along the way and ordered two big lunches. Then around five o'clock, the restaurant began to fill up with the cocktail crowd. I called Eliot and told him I needed another hour. He said that was fine but what was happening?
«Weber has been dreaming around Rondua too. Ever since I zapped him in the chest.»
«Holy shit!»
«Uh-huh. I think you were right, Eliot. See you later. I'll tell you everything then.»
«Okay, I can't wait! Just don't zap anybody on your way home, huh?»
Weber had been places and met creatures in Rondua I didn't know – the alligator chess bullies, Cloud Hell, the nighttime old lamp market in Harry. He'd been to the Caves of Lem and the Gardener's Office on the Mountain. One of the guides was a crane named A Sport and a Pastime. Later he was accompanied only by a voice named Solaris.
Neither of us could figure out why he had been in other corners of the land, but we agreed there was no sense in looking for logic in _any_ of this. Why even try?
A little hesitantly, I told him Eliot's idea about how I had bewitched him the day we met.
He smiled and took a cold French fry off my plate. «Why not, Cullen? It's just as crazy as everything else we've discussed.»
He took another French fry; he was calm now and smiling more, particularly when we talked about our different experiences over there.
Instead of eating the potato, he pointed it at me and began talking again. «You know, it wouldn't be so bad if the damned dreams weren't so scary and upsetting. Have you met Jack Chili yet?»