Buddenbaum was closing on them. Harry went for his gun, but Tesla said:
"That's not going to stop him. Let's just get the hell out of his way." She turned from Buddenbaum only to find that in the seconds she'd been looking back a little girl had stepped into their path and was studying them gravely. She was absurdly perfect: a petite blonde-ringleted five year old in a white dress, white socks, and white shoes. Her face was rose pink, her eyes huge and blue.
"Hello," she said, her voice sweet and cool. "You're Testa, aren't you?"
Tesla wasn't in any mood to be chatting to kids, however perfect they were. "You should go find your Mommy and Daddy," she said.
"I was watching," the child said.
"This isn't a good thing to watch, honey," D'Amour said. "Where are your Mom and Dad?"
"They're not here."
:,You're on your own?"
'No," she replied. "I've got Haheh with me, and Yie." She glanced back towards the ice cream parlor. There, sitting on the step, was a man with the face of a born comedianjug-eared, wall-eyed, rubber-mouthed-who had six cones of ice cream in his hands, and was licking from one to another with a look of great concentration. Beside him was another child, this a boy, who looked nearly moronic.
"Don't worry about me," the little girl said. "I'm fine." She studied Testa carefully. "Are you dying?" she said.
Testa looked at D'Amour. "This is not a conversation I want to have right now."
"But I do," Miss Perfection said. "It's important."
"Well, why don't you ask somebody else?"
"Because it's you we're interested in," the little girl replied gravely. She took a step towards Testa, Lifting her hand as she did so. "We saw your face, and we said: She knows about the story tree."
"About what?"
"The story tree," the child replied.
"What the fuck is she talking about?" Testa said to D'Amour. "Never mind," came another voice, this from behind them. Testa didn't need to look round to know it was Buddenbaum. His voice was curiously hollow, as though he were speaking from an empty chamber. "You should have kept out of my business, woman."
"I've no interest in your business," Tesla said. Then, suddenly inquisitive, she turned to him. "But just for the record: What is your business?"
Buddenbaum looked terrible, his face more bloody than not, his body trembling. "That's for me to know," he said.
At this, the little girl piped up. "You can tell her, Owen," she said. Buddenbaum looked past Testa at the child. "I've no wish to share our secrets with this woman," he said stiffly. "But we do," the child replied.
Testa studied Buddenbaum's face through the odd exchange, trying to decode its signs. Plainly, he knew the girl well; and equally plainly was somewhat nervous of her. Perhaps wary rather than nervous. Once again, Testa missed Raul's incisive grasp of such signals. Had he been with her she was certain he could have armed her with insights for whatever encounter lay ahead.
"You look sick," Buddenbaum said.
"You and me both," Testa replied.
"Ah, but I'll mend," Buddenbaum went on. "You, on the other hand, are not long for this world." He spoke lightly enough, but she couldn't miss the threat in the words. He was not simply prophesying death, he was promising it. "I suggest you start making your farewells while you can."
"Is this all part of it?" the little girl said. Testa glanced back at her. She was wearing a coy little smile. "Is it, Owen?"
"Yes," Buddenbaum said. "It's all part of it."
"Oh good, good." The child shifted her attention back to Tesla. "We'll see you later then," she said, stepping aside to let them pass.
"I don't think that's very likely," Testa said.
"Oh, but we will," the girl said, "for sure. We're very interested in you and the story tree."
Tesla heard Buddenbaum mutter something behind her. he didn't hear what, and she was in no state of mind or to make him repeat it. She simply returned the child's sweet smile and with Harry at her side left the crossroads, with the sound of the officers' bewildered worship floating after them on the summer breeze.
Though it was next to impossible that news of what had happened at the crossroads had already reached the ears of every man, woman, and child in Everville, the streets Tesla and Harry walked to get back to Phoebe's house were pretematurally quiet, as though people had read the trembling air, and judged silence the safest response. Despite the heat, doors were closed and windows shuttered. There were no children playing on the lawns or in the street; not even dogs were showing their twitching noses.
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?