"Did you?"
"I did! Tell her, my little Abr6!"
"It's true!" Musnakaff replied. "She dreamed this place into being."
"So I could dream myself a fetching woman just as easily." Again, she paused. "But I choose not to. And you know why?"
"Because you don't care?" Phoebe ventured.
The paper the woman was in the middle of tearing fell from her fingers.
"Exactly," she said, with great moment. "What's your name? Felicia?"
"Phoebe."
"Even worse."
"I like it," Phoebe replied, her tongue responding before she could check it.
"It's a vile name," the woman said.
"No it isn't."
"If I say it's a vile name, then vile it is. Come here." Phoebe didn't move. "Did you hear me?"
"Yes I heard you, but I don't care to come."
The woman rolled her eyes. "Oh for God's sake, woman, don't take offense at a little remark like that. I'm allowed to be objectionable. I'm old, ugly, and flatulent."
"You don't have to be," Phoebe said.
"Says who?"
"You," Phoebe reminded her, glad she'd had all those years of dealing with obstinate patients. She was damned if she'd allow the harridan to intimidate her. "Two minutes ago, you said@' She caught Musnakaff frantically gesturing to her, but she'd begun now and it was too late to stop. "You said you could just dream yourself beautiful. So dream yourself young and gasless at the same time."
There was a weighty silence, the Mistress's eyes roving maniacally. Then she began to chuckle again, the sound escalating into a full-throated laugh. "Oh you believed me, you believed me, you sweet thing," she said. "Do you truly think I would live with this"-she raised her skeletal hands in front of her-"if I had any choice in the matter?"
"So you can't dream yourself beautiful?"
"I might have been able to do it, when I first came here. f was barely a hundred back then. Oh I know it sounds old to you, but it's nothing, nothing. I had a husband whose kisses' kept me young,"
"This is King Texas?" Phoebe said.
The woman's hands dropped back into her lap, and she uttered a shuddering sigh. "No," she said. '-Mis was in the Cosm, in my youth. A
soul I loved far more than I ever loved Texas. And who loved me back, to distraction...... An expression of utter loss crossed her face. "It never passes," she murmured. "Me pain of losing love. It never truly passes. I'm afraid to sleep some nights-Abrd knows; poor Abr6-i'm afraid because when I sleep I dream he,s returned into my arms, and I into his, and the hurt of waking is SO great I can't bear to close my eyes, for fear the dream will come again." She was suddenly weeping, Phoebe saw. Tears pouring down her gouged cbeeks. "Oh Lord, if I had my way I'd unmake love. Wouldn't that be fme?"
"No," Phoebe said softly. "I don't think that would be fine at all."
"You wait until you've outlived all those you care for, or lost them. You wait till all you've got left is a husk and some memories. You'll lie awake the way I do, and pray not to dream." She beckoned to Phoebe.
"Come closer, will You?" she said. "Let me see you a little more clearly."
Phoebe duly moved to the side of the bed. "Abr6, that lamp. Bring it closer. I want to see the face of this woman, who's so in love with love. Better, better." She lifted her hand as if to touch Phoebe's face, then withdrew from the contact. "Are there any new diseases in the Cosm?" she said.
"Yes there are." "Are they terrible?"
"Some of them, yes," Phoebe said, "One of them's very terrible indeed." She remembered Abrd's phrase. "the Cosm's a vale of tears," she said.
"I would dream myself a beauty," she replied, chuckling at the notion.
"I would make myself over as the most fetching woman in Creation, and I would go out in the streets and break every heart I could." The chuckled disappeared. "Do you think I could do that?" she said.
"I... I daresay you could."
"You daresay, do you?" the Mistress responded softly. "Well let me tell you: I could do it as easily as piss. Oh yes. No trouble. I dreamed this city, didn't I?" "Did you?"
"I did! Tell her, my little Abr6!"
"It's true!" Musnakaff replied. "She dreamed this place into being."
"So I could dream myself a fetching woman just as easily." Again, she paused. "But I choose not to. And you know why?"
"Because you don't care?" Phoebe ventured.
The paper the woman was in the middle of tearing I-ell from her fingers.
"Exactly," she said, with great moment. "What's your name? Felicia?"
"Phoebe."
"Even worse."
,i like it," Phoebe replied, her tongue responding before she could check it.
"It's a vile name," the woman said.
"No it isn't."
"If I say it's a vile name, then vile it is. Come here." Phoebe didn't move. "Did you hear me?"
"Yes I heard you, but I don't care to come."
The woman rolled her eyes. "Oh for God's s@tkc, woman, don't take offense at a little remark like that. ['in allowed to be objectionable. I'm old, ugly, and flatulent."
"You don't have to be," Phoebe said.
"Says who?"
"You," Phoebe reminded her, glad she'd had all those years of dealing with obstinate patients. She was damned if she'd allow the harridan to intimidate her. "Two minutes ago, you said-" She caught Musnakaff frantically gesturing t to her, but she'd begun now and it was too late to stop. "You said you could just dream yourself beautiful. So dream yourself young and gasless at the same time."
There was a weighty silence, the Mistress's eyes roving Maniacally. Then she began to chuckle again, the sound escalating into a full-throated laugh. "Oh you believed me, you believed me, you sweet thing," she said. "Do you truly think I would live with this"-she raised her skeletal hands in front of her-"if I had any choice in the matter?"
"So you can't dream yourself beautiful?"
"I might have been able to do it, when I first came here. I was barely a hundred back then. Oh I know it sounds old to You, but it's nothing, nothing. I had a husband whose kisses kept me young."
"This is King Texas?" Phoebe said.
The woman's hands dropped back into her lap, and she uttered a shuddering sigh. "No," she said. "This was in the Cosm, in my youth. A
soul I loved far more than I ever loved Texas. And who loved me back, to distraction...." An expression of utter loss crossed her face. "It never passes," she murmured. "The pain of losing love. It never truly passes. I'm afraid to sleep some ni,,lhts-Abrd knows; poor Abr6-I'm afraid because when I sleep I dream he's returned into my arms, and I into his, and the hurt of waking is so great I can't bear to close my eyes, for fear the dream will come again." She was suddenly weeping, Phoebe saw. Tears pouring down her gouged cheeks. "Oh Lord, if I had my way I'd unmake love. Wouldn't that be fine?"
"No," Phoebe said softly. "I don't think that would be fine at all."
"You wait until you've outlived all those you care for, or lost them. You wait till all you've got left is a husk and some memories. You'll lie awake the way I do, and pray not to dream." She beckoned to Phoebe.
"Come closer, will you?" she said. "Let me see you a little more clearly."
Phoebe duly moved to the side of the bed. "Abr6, that lamp. Bring it closer. I want to see the face of this woman, who's so in love with love. Better, better." She lifted her hand as if to touch Phoebe's face, then withdrew from the contact. "Are there any new diseases in the Cosm?" she said.