Sleeping in Flame

"Buzz off, Bozo."

The giant looked at the girl and leered. "Boat-zo? Was Boat-zo?"

"Just get out of our way."

He exaggeratedly sidestepped, but when the girl moved by him he grabbed her arm. Pulling her close, he licked her face.

Her friend, gallant and stupid, moved up. "Cut it out, man."

The rowdy gave him a hard fast push and the kid fell flailing backward down the stairs.

While he was laughing, I took two steps up and stuck my fingers in the fat guy's eyes. He screamed. Letting go of the girl, he slapped his hands to his face.

"I'm blind!"

Shocked at what had happened, his gang stood where they were an instant, then came for me.

With no thought at all, none, I curled my hand into a fist with the fingers covering the thumb. Then I put it instinctively to my chin. All of the men were wearing long violet and white scarves. As one, the scarves blew up into their faces and already burning, began melting onto their skin.

Screams, black smoke, the smell of cooking meat.

I don't know what I did.

The American boy was standing again.

"Go! Run!"

They went one way, I the other: back toward Vie

At the entrance to the station, I stood a moment to catch up with myself.

A taxi pulled in a slow circle until it was in front of me. It was so close that I had to look. Papa was driving.

"Out of breath? Not you, boy. I told you you still had your magic."

He pulled away with a screech. I ran after him but the closer I got, the faster the taxi moved. As he drove into traffic, he stuck his head out the window.

"Tell me my name, Walter!"

Orlando leaped into my lap when I got home. I put a hand on his head and stroked his warm fur. He purred. Not looking at him, I made my other hand into a fist, covering the thumb. Putting it to my chin, I tried to remember everything that had gone through my head. I felt the cat's soft paw batting at my arm. Looking down, I saw that his eyes had returned. He could see again.

3.

Dear Maris and Walker,

I'll assume you heard about our earthquake. I once went through a few horrid seconds of one in Peru, but nothing compared to this baby. Strayhorn and I were at the Taco Bell near Beverly Center when it hit. At first I thought it was only my tostada going down the wrong way, but when the walls cracked and the front window blew out I knew we were in for it.

What do you think about when you're watching your own death? Phil kept saying "This isn't a movie! This is not a movie!" Good old Strayhorn. I froze but he pulled me out of there in time. We stood in the parking lot feeling the ground do the hula under our feet. We looked at each other. What the hell else can you do?

To make a sad story short, both of our houses slid into the canyon and along with them everything important we owned. So what? We're still alive while too many people out here aren't. Too many friends disappeared and haven't shown up yet. We're assuming the worst, Goddamn it.

God. That's one fu

Naturally things have changed. My perspective is very different. Being a famous movie mogul looks absurd in this context. So no matter what happens, I have decided that when I can square away what's left here, I'm going to flee this ruin (parts of it are that bad) and travel. Appropriately enough, our studio withstood the quake. Most of the studios did. Ain't it perfect for Hollywood? That means I'm obligated to finish Wonderful, but that shouldn't take long.

After it's done I'm taking the salary they gave me and travel on it. Strayhorn says I should buy a new house, but I don't want to be around here now. Maybe not ever again. We'll see. All this verbal diarrhea is only to say that sooner or later I'd like to come through Vie

Why this letter? Because I realized after all the trouble here that I liked you both very much. When you see the shine on the reaper's blade up close, you realize it's important to be with people who make you feel good to be alive. Both of you did that for me and I'm grateful. I hope a little of it is mutual. I'll be in touch. Don't leave Vie

My love,

Weber

Dear Maris and Walker,

With you in the hospital and me out of luck here in broken L.A., it seems that we younger Yorks could use a good dose of luck right now. As I told you over the phone, I'm physically okay, but not mentally.

Gle

I hope you and Walker are well, notwithstanding the hospital thing. I never said much about it when you were here, but I like your new man very much. I'm only sorry we didn't have more time together. Have his dreams/magic either smoothed out or explained themselves? My experience over the years with people who've been touched by the miraculous is that if they're decent and caring, they will prevail. Many of them prevail and use that power to good ends. I don't know what I could do for you here but if there is anything, please let me know.

The earthquake destroyed our house, so all I've been doing recently is going through the ruins for anything that can be salvaged. There isn't much. I'm staying with a friend until I can find another place. But that can wait. No house this time, though. Houses are for more than one person. Alone, there's too much empty room. Empty rooms are never good company.

Not much else to tell. Californians can't believe this has happened. For years people talked about the coming earthquake, but no one really believed it would come. Everyone had a few extra flashlights and ca

"How can you move out of California when you're so successful?"

"Because you can't be successful when you're dead, Ingram."

Call me if you need anything – the number is below. I miss you and am happy for the Easterlings and the coming child. The hospital is only for a while, Maris. I'm sure of that. The rest, the good things, will be waiting for you when you get home and have all the rest of your lives to enjoy them.

I love you,

Ingram

She looked up with tears in her eyes. "The poor guy. What can we do for him?"