"I feel like a damn fool," Erwin said.
Dolan grinned. "Nobody can see us but us," he pointed out. "Oh come on, lighten up, Erwin. Didn't you always want to March in a parade?"
"Actually, no," Erwin replied.
they were all there-Nordhoff, Dickerson, even Connie, marching among the glittering ranks-all playing the fool.
Erwin couldn't see the joke. Not today, when plainly there was so much wrong with the world, Hadn't Nordhoff himself said that they had to somehow protect their investment in Everville? And here they were capering like chil-, dren.
"I'm done with thisf" he said sourly. "We should be after that bastard in my house."
"We will be," Dolan said. "Nordhoff told me he had a plan."
"Somebody taking my name in vain?" Nordhoff called over his shoulder.
"Erwin thinks we're wasting our time."
"Do you indeed?" Nordhoff said, swinging round, and marching backwards while he addressed the question. "it may seem like a pathetic little ritual to you, marching with the town band, but it's like that jacket you're wearing."
"This thing?" Erwin said. "I thought I'd given it away."
"But you found the pockets full of keepsakes, didn't you?" Nordhoff said. "Little pieces of the past?" @,Yes."
"It was the same for all of us," Nordhoff replied, plunging his hand into the pocket of his I, ess-than-perfect tux and pulling out a handful of bric-a-brac. 'Either Our memories or some higher Power supplied us with these comforts. And I'm grateful,"
"What's your point?" Erwin pressed.
"That we have to stay connected to Everville the way we stay connected to ourselves. Whether it's an old shirt or an hour with the town band, it doesn't matter. they serve the same function. they help us remember what we loved."
"What we still love," Dolan said.
"You're right, Richard. What we still love. You see the point, Erwin?"
4'1 can think of better ways to do it than this," Erwin growled.
"Doesn't a band make your heart strike up?" Nordhoff said, raising his knees a little higher with each step. "Listen to those trumpets."
"Raucous!" Erwin said.
"Jesus, Toothaker!" Nordhoff said. "Where's your sense of celebration? This is what we're fighting to preserve."
"Then God help us," Erwin said, at which reply Nordhoff turned his back, and picking up his pace marched off through the brass section.
"Go after him," Dolan told Erwin. "Quickly. Tell him you're sorry."
"Go to Hell," Erwin said, peeling off from the ranks and heading for the choked sidewalk. Dolan went after him.
"Nordhoff s not a very forgiving man," Dolan said.
"I don't care," Erwin said. "I'm not going to abase myself" He stopped, his gaze fixed on somebody in the crowd.
"What is it?" Dolan wanted to know.
"There," Erwin said, pointing to the bedraggled woman moving through the crowd.
"You know her?"
"Oh yes."
Testa was about a hundred yards from the crossroads when she realized where she was. She halted. It took Harry just a second or two to catch up with her.
"What's the problem?" he hollered to her.
"We shouldn't have come this way!" she yelled back.
"You know a better one?"
Testa shook her head. Perhaps with Raul's aid she'd have been able to plot an alternative route to Phoebe's house, but from now on she'd have to start working these problems out for herself.
"So we just have to plough on," Harry said.
Testa nodded, and did just that, plunging on into the press of bodies with the abandon of an orgiast. If only there were some way to harness the power of this communion, she thought; to turn it to practical purpose instead of letting it evaporate. What a waste that was; what a pitiful waste.
Caught in the grip of the crowd, unable to entirely control her route, nor entirely concerned to do so, she felt curiously comforted. The touch of flesh on flesh, the stench of sweat and candy-sweetened breath, the sight of oozing skin and glittering eye, all of it was fine, just fine. Yes, these peo pp pie were vulnerable and ignorant; yes, they were probably crass, most of them, and bigoted and belligerent. But now, right now, they were laughing and cheering and holding their babies high to see the parade, and if she did not love them, she was at least happy to be of their species.
"Listen to me!" Erwin yelled at her.
The woman showed no sign of hearing, but the expreS7 sion on her face gave Erwin hope that maybe she could be persuaded to hear. Her eyes had a lunatic gleam in them, and there was a twitching smile on her lips. He could not feel her temperature, but he was certain she was running a fever.
"Just tune in, will you?" he hollered.
"Why are you bothering?" Dolan wanted to know.
"Because she knows a damn sight more than we do," Erwin told him. "She knew that thing in my house by name. I heard her call it Kissoon."
"What about him?" Testa said to Harry, throwing the question over her shoulder.
"What about who?" Harry replied.
"You said Kissoon." "I didn't say a word."
"Well somebody did."
"She heard me!" Erwin whooped. "Good girl! Good girl." Dolan was intrigued now. "Maybe she'd hear better if we said it together," he suggested.
"Not a bad idea. After three...
This time Testa stopped. "You didn't hear that either?" she said to Harry. He shook his head. "Okay," she said. "No big deal."
"What are you talking about?"
She pushed through the crowd to an empty doorway, with Harry following. The store-a florist's-was closed, but the scent of flowers was powerful.
"There's somebody talking to me, Harry. Besides you. His name's Toothaker."
"And... where is he?"
"I don't know," she said. "I mean, I know he's dead. I was in his house. That's where I saw Kissoon." She kept scanning the crowd while she spoke, hoping to catch a glimpse of the presence, or rather presences, she'd heard. "He's not alone this time. I heard two voices. they want to get through to me. I just don't know how to tune in."
"I'm no help, I'm afraid," Harry said. "I'm not saying they're not here@'
"It's okay," Tesla told him. "I just have to listen-2'
"You want to find somewhere quieter?"
She shook her head. "I might lose them."
"You want me to step away?"
"Don't go far," she said, and closing her eyes, tried to shut out the din of the living and listen for the voices of the dead.
Dorothy caught hold of Maisie's arm, very tight. "What's wrong?" Maisie said.
"I really don't... I don't feel too good at all Dorothy said. Her surroundings had started to throb in rhythm with the band, as though everything had a heart sewn inside it (even the sidewalk, even the sky), and the closer the band came, the harder those hearts beat, until it seemed they would surely burst, every one of them burst wide open, and tear a hole in the world.
"Shall I get you something to eat?" Maisie said. The drums were louder with every beat: booming and booming. "Maybe a tuna salad, or-"
Without warning, Dorothy bent double and puked. The knot of people in front of her parted-not quickly enough to keep themselves from being spattered, but fast-as she heaved up what little her stomach contained. Maisie waited until the spasms had stopped then tried to coax her out of the sun into the shade of the diner. But she wouldn't go, or couldn't.
"It's going to burst," she said, staring down at the ground.
"It's all right, Dottie
"No it isn't. It's going to burst!"
"What are you talking about?"
Dorothy shook off Maisie's grip. "We've got to clear the street," she said, stumbling forward. "Quickly!"