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"It feels bad," she said, speaking low.
"It is bad," he said. "Black Thirteen's very likely the most terrible object from the days of Eld still remaining on the face of the earth. Not that the Wizard's Rainbow was from then; I'm sure it existed even before-"
"Roland! Hey, Roland! Suze!"
They looked up and in spite of his earlier misgivings, Roland was immensely relieved to see not only Eddie, but Jake and Oy, as well. They were about a block and a half farther along. Eddie was waving. Susa
"Mind your feet," he said. "You don't need to pick up some sort of infection and carry it back to the other side."
They compromised at a rapid walk. Eddie and Jake, both shod, ran to meet them. Pedestrians moved out of their way without looking, or even breaking their conversations, Roland saw, and then observed that wasn't quite true. There was a little boy, surely no older than three, walking sturdily along next to his mother. The woman seemed to notice nothing, but as Eddie and Jake swung around them, the toddler watched with wide, wondering eyes… and then actually stretched out a hand, as if to stroke the briskly trotting Oy.
Eddie pulled ahead of Jake and arrived first. He held Susa
"Well? What do you think, sugar?" Susa
"A definite improvement," Eddie said. "I don't need em to love you, but they're way beyond good and into the land of excellent. Christ, now you're an inch taller than I am!"
Susa
"Like your legs, Suze," Jake said, and the perfunctory quality of this compliment made Susa
"Is there anything to see?"
Jake's face clouded. "Actually, not much. It's closed."
"I would see the vacant lot, if there's time before we're sent back," Roland said. "And the rose."
"Do they hurt?" Eddie asked Susa
"They feel fine," she said, laughing. "Fine. "
"You look different."
"I bet!" she said, and executed a littie barefoot jig. It had been moons and moons since she had last danced, but the exultancy she so clearly felt made up for any lack of grace. A woman wearing a business suit and swinging a briefcase bore down on the ragged littie party of wanderers, then abruptly veered off, actually taking a few steps into the street to get around them. "You bet I do, I got legs!"
"Just like the song says," Eddie told her.
"Huh?"
"Never mind," he said, and slipped an arm around her waist. But again Roland saw him give her that searching, questioning look. But with luck he'll leave it alone, Roland thought.
And that was what Eddie did. He kissed the corner of her mouth, then turned to Roland. "So you want to see the famous vacant lot and the even more famous rose, huh? Well, so do I. Lead on, Jake."
SEVEN
Jake led them down Second Avenue, pausing only long enough so they could all take a quick peek into The Manhattan Restaurant of the Mind. No one was wasting light in this shop, however, and there really wasn't much to see. Roland was hoping for a look at the menu sign, but it was gone.
Reading his mind in the matter-of-fact way of people who share khef, Jake said, "He probably changes it every day."
"Maybe," Roland said. He looked in through the window a moment longer, saw nothing but darkened shelves, a few tables, and the counter Jake had mentioned-the one where the old fellows sat drinking coffee and playing this world's version of Casdes. Nothing to see, but something to feel, even through the glass: despair and loss. If it had been a smell, Roland thought, it would have been sour and a bit stale. The smell of failure. Maybe of good dreams that never grew. Which made it the perfect lever for someone like Enrico "Il Roche "Balazar.
"Seen enough?" Eddie asked.
"Yes. Let's go."
EIGHT
For Roland, the eight-block journey from Second and Fifty-fourth to Second and Forty-sixth was like visiting a country in which he had until that moment only half-believed. How much stranger must it be for Jake? he wondered. The bum who'd asked the boy for a quarter was gone, but the restaurant he'd been sitting near was there: Chew Chew Mama's. This was on the corner of Second and Fifty-second. A block farther down was the record store, Tower of Power. It was still open-according to an overhead clock that told the time in large electric dots, it was only fourteen minutes after eight in the evening. Loud sounds were pouring out of the open door. Guitars and drums. This world's music. It reminded him of the sacrificial music played by the Grays, back in the city of Lud, and why not? This was Lud, in some twisted, otherwhere-and-when way. He was sure of it.
"It's the Rolling Stones," Jake said, "but not the one that was playing on the day I saw the rose. That one was 'Paint It Black.' "
"Don't you recognize this one?" Eddie asked.
"Yeah, but I can't remember the title."
"Oh, but you should," Eddie said. "It's 'Nineteenth Nervous Breakdown.'"
Susa
Jake nodded. "He's right."
Eddie, meanwhile, had fished a piece of newspaper from the security-gated doorway next to Tower of Power Records. A section of The New York Times, in fact.
"Hon, didn't your ma ever teach you that gutter-trolling is generally not practiced by the better class of people?" Susa
Eddie ignored her. "Look at this," he said. "All of you."
Roland bent close, half-expecting to see news of another great plague, but there was nothing so shattering. At least not as far as he could tell.
"Read me what it says," he asked Jake. "The letters swim in and out of my mind. I think it's because we're todash-caught in between-"
"RHODESIAN FORCES TIGHTEN HOLD ON MOZAMBIQUE VILLAGES," Jake read, " TWO CARTER AIDES PREDICT A SAVING OF BILLIONS IN WELFARE PLAN. And down here, CHINESE DISCLOSE THAT 1976 QUAKE WAS DEADLIEST IN FOUR CENTURIES.
Also-"
"Who's Carter?" Susa
"Never mind Carter," Eddie said. "Look at the date."
Roland tried, but it kept swimming in and out. It would almost settle into Great Letters that he could read, and then fall back into gibberish. "What is it, for your father's sake?"
"June second," Jake said. He looked at Eddie. "But if time's the same here and over on the other side, shouldn't it be June first?"