It was doubly strange because the day was so perfect: the air candied with summer flowers, the sky flawless.
As they turned the corner onto Phoebe's street, out of the blue Harry said, "God, I love the world." it was such a simple thing to say, and it was spoken with such easy faith, Tesla could only shake her head.
"You don't?" Harry said.
"There's so much shit," she said.
"Not fight this minute. Right this minute it's as good as it gets." \
\1
"Look up the mountain," she said.
"I'm not up the mountain," Harry replied. "I'm here@,
"Good for you," she said, unable to keep the edge from her voice.
He looked across at her. She looked, he thought, about as frail and weary as any living soul could look and still be living. He wanted to put his arm around her, just for a little while, but he supposed she wouldn't thank him for the gesture. She was in a space all of her own, sealed off from comfort.
It took her a little time fumbling with the spare keys Phoebe had given her before they gained access to the house.
Once inside, she said, "I'm going to go get some sleep. I can't even think straight."
"Sure.
She started up the stairs, but turned back a couple of seconds later, staring down at D'Amour with those empty eyes of hers. "By the way," she said, "thank you."
"For what?"
"For what you did on the mountain. I wouldn't be here-Lord... you know what I'm saying."
"I know. And there's no need. We're in this together."
"No," she said softly. "I don't think that's how it's working out."
"If you're thinking about what the kid said to you-"
"It's not the first time I've thought about it," Tesla said, "I've been pushing myself to the limits for five years, Harry, and it's taken its toll." He started to say something, but she raised her hand to hush him. "Let's not waste time lying to each other," she said. "I've done what I can do, and I'm used up. Simple as that. I guess as long as I had Raul in my head I could pretend I was making sense of things, but now... now he's gone"-she shrugged-"I don't want to carry on any longer." She tried a tiny smile, but it was misbegotten. She let it drop, and turning her back on Harry traipsed up to bed.
Harry brewed himself some coffee, and sat down in the living room among the out-of-date copies of TV Guide and the overfilled ashtrays, to think things through. The coffee did its job. He was wide awake, despite the exhaustion in his limbs. He sat staring up at the ceiling and turned over the events that had brought him to this confounded state.
He'd gone up the mountain under the cover of mist and Voi@ht's tattoos to search for Kissoon, but he'd not found the man: at least not in any form he recognized. Children, yes; the Brothers Grimm, yes; a Blessedm'n, three crucified souls, and Tesia Bombeck, yes. But the man who'd murdered Ted Dusseldorf and Maria Nazareno had evaded him.
He thought back to Morningside Heights-to that squalid room where his enemy had slept-wondefing if perhaps there'd been some clue to Kissoon's present form that ad seemed inconsequential at the time. He recalled nothing seful. But he did remember the deck of cards he'd found re. He dug in his jacket pocket and brought them to light. was there a clue here, he wondered, in these images? He cleared the coffee table and laid them out. Ape, moon, fetus, lightning Potent symbols, every one. Lighting, hand, torso, hole But if it was a game, then he didn't know the rules. And if it wasn't a game, then what the hell was it?
Barely conscious of what he was doing he arranged and rearranged the cards in front of him, hoping some solution would appear. Nothing did. Despite the power of the symbols, or perhaps because of it, there was no clarity; just a sense that his mind was too lightweight to deal with such issues.
He was in the midst of these musings when the telephone rang. The Cobb household did not believe in answering machines, it seemed, because the ringing went on uninterrupted until Harry picked up.
There was a well-worn voice at the other end of the line. "Is Tesla there?" the man said. Harry paused before replying, during which time the man said, "It's urgent. I have to talk to her."
This time Harry recognized the speaker. "Grillo?" he said. "Who is this?"
11 "It' s Harry.
"Jesus, Harry. What are you doing there?" "Same thing Tesla's doing."
"is she around?" "She's asleep." "I have to talk to her. I've been calling all day." "Where are you?" "About five miles outside town."
"Which town?" "Everville, for God's sake! Now can I talk to her?"
"Can't you call back in an hour or so-"
"No!" Grillo yelled. Then, more quietly, "No. I need to talk to her now." "Wait a minute," Harry said, and putting down the phone he went up to wake Tesla. She was slumped on the double bed fully dressed, a look of such exhaustion on her sleeping face he couldn't bring himself to deny her the slumber she so plainly needed. It was a good thing. By the time he got back down into the hallway the line was dead. Grillo had gone.
In sleep, Tesia found herself walking on an unearthly shore. Snow had lately fallen there, but she felt none of its chill. Light-footed, she wandered down to the sea. It was thick and dark, its turbulent waters scummy@ and here and there she saw bodies in the surf, turning their stricken faces her way as if to warn her against entering.
She had no choice. The sea wanted her, and would not be denied. Nor, in truth, did she want to resist it. The shore was drear and desolate. The sea, for all its freight of corpses, was a place of mystery, It was only once she was wading into the surf, the waves breaking against her breasts and her belly, that her dreaming mind put words to what place this was. Or rather, one word.
Quiddity.
The dream-sea leapt up against her face when she spoke its name, and its undertow pulled at her legs. She didn't attempt to fight it, but let it lift her off her feet and carry her away like an eager lover. The waves, which were substantial enough at the shore, soon grew titanic. When they raised her up on their shoulders she could see a wall of darkness at the horizon, the likes of which she remembered from her last moments in Kissoon's Loop. The lad, of course. Mountains and fleas; fleas and mountains. When they dropped her into their troughs, and she plunged below the surface, she (,Iiinpsed another spectacle entirely: vast shoals of fish, moviii,, like thunderheads below her. And weaving between the shoals, luminous forms that were, she guessed, human spirits like herself. She seemed to see vestigial faces in their light; hints of the infants, lovers, and dying souls who were dreaming themselves here.
She had no doubt as to which of the three she was. Too old to be a baby, too crazy to be a lover, there was only one reason why her soul was journeying here tonight. Miss Perfection had been right, Death was imminent. This was the last time she would sleep before her span as Testa Bombeck was over.
Even if she'd been distressed at this, she had no time to feel it. The adventure at hand demanded too much of her attention. Rising and falling, on shoulder and in trough, she was carried on towards a place where the waters, for some reason she could not comprehend, grew so utterly calm they made an almost perfect mirror for the busy sky.
She thought at first she was alone in these doldrums, and was about to test her powers of self-propulsion in order escape them, when she realized that a light was flickering beneath her. She looked down into the water, and saw that some species of fish with luminous flesh had congregated in the deep, and was now steadily rising towards the surface. When she raised her head from the water again she found that she was not alone. A long-haired, bearded man was casually crouching on the water as though it were as solid as a rock, idly creating ripples in the glassy surface. He had been there all along, she assumed, and she'd missed him. But now, as if roused from some reverie by her gaze, he looked up.