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“Try me.”
“They’re called Maledictions and they’re very pop
ular in Hell. The Devil gave them to me.”
Matthew thinks about it for a minute.
“See, my first reaction was that you’re being a dick again. Then I remembered all the stories about you.”
“And you sort of believe me?”
“I sort of believe you.”
I put out my hand and we shake.
“Matthew, try not to die any time soon. Hell is a garbage dump. It’s getting worse and there’s no end in sight. You and your friends, you don’t want to go there.”
“What makes you think I’m going to Hell?”
“That’s the problem. Everybody, good or bad, gets dumped in Hell these days. So, check twice before crossing the street.”
He looks at me.
“This is you being a dick again, isn’t it?”
“I promise you it’s not. I’m being a person right now. You, your family, your friends, don’t die until we get some shit sorted out.”
Matthew keeps looking at me, trying to figure out what the gag is. Finally, he waves me out of the lot.
“Don’t come back soon.”
I gun the Hog and take off, wondering if he believes me and knowing he probably doesn’t. I hope he doesn’t find out the truth the hard way.
Heading home, I pass the place where I saw the crazies run across the freeway. There isn’t a sign of them anymore. Not a hubcap or a burn mark or a body. I still can’t help wondering what it was all about. It looked like something you’d see Downtown. A punishment for jaywalkers—run through traffic for the next thousand years. But those people looked like they were doing it for kicks. If that’s their idea of a good time, what do they do when they’re depressed? Swim through hot tar?
Candy calls later in the day.
The first thing out of her mouth is, “Did you talk to Abbot about Brigitte?”
“I just came from a meeting. He can fix things.”
“You’re sure?”
“Fixing things is what he does. How else do you think he keeps California in one piece? He’ll know the people to lean on.”
“I hope so,” she says. Then, brighter, “Your party wasn’t bad. Honestly, I was expecting kind of a disaster. The kitchen on fire. The living room flooded . . .”
“The roof caved in.”
“Exactly. But you did all right.”
“Janet helped with things.”
“She seems nice.”
“Yeah,” I say, feeling my throat go a little dry. I don’t want to talk to her about Janet right now. “Anyway, I’m glad you thought it was all right.”
“I hope it doesn’t sound terrible to say things like that. It’s just that I worry about you on your own. You can get lost in your head and forget to come out for air.”
