pleasure to talk to Ronnie now, who apparently can't hear me at all.
Whom else could I tell what it was like to stand outside that hotel, looking up, sweating hormones, the tart, metallic taste of blood from the fight with Gurley only now going stale in my mouth?
Whom else could I tell that of everything I felt, the sharpest feeling was fear?
Damn right I was scared. Scared of Gurley? Maybe I thought that then, but that was a fleeting fear. You can't be scared of a car that loses control on the highway. There's no time, no reason: you just concentrate on staying alive.
No, I was scared of the woman up on the second floor. And it kept me standing on the street right up to, and then after, eleven o'clock. Five after, ten after. I couldn't bring myself to go in, although I decided I would rush ahead if I saw any other man make for the building. But in the meantime, I stood there, rubbing between thumb and forefinger the magic dollar Lily had given me, wondering as I did so what crime I might have already committed and what crimes I might soon commit.
Here was the problem. Lily was a woman, a spit-in-the-eye-of-God occultist (the distance between palm reading and worshiping idols seemed shorter in my youth), a siren-she was all this, yes, but what consumed me was that Lily was Japanese. And while that didn't automatically make her a spy, everything else did: her presence here, in Alaska, when all other Japanese had been sent to camps; this strange building; her dark office; Gurley's mysterious arrival; the dollar she'd given me-and, of course, the fact that she was supposedly a palm reader. She made no secret that she dealt in secrets.
“Boo,” came a voice from behind me, and I must have leapt in the air, straight up, several inches, with my heart going faster and higher. “Don't turn around,” said the voice, which was doing a fair impression of a movie hoodlum until it broke down laughing. “Boo,” the voice said again between laughs, and I turned around to find Lily, grinning so broadly she couldn't see.
“Hello,” I said, using the biggest, most adult soldier voice I could manage. Lily imitated me-not very well, I thought, but she also found this funny, and laughed until I at least started to smile.
But when she finally caught her breath and focused, she stopped laughing altogether.
“What happened to you?” she asked. She started to extend a hand to the bruises on my face, and if she'd actually touched them, I would have counted the battle with Gurley as well worth the pain. But she stopped short, just inches from my skin. There was that kind of buzzing that comes just before a first kiss-yes, I know about these things, or knew-and I couldn't say anything, do anything. She'd immobilized me faster than Gurley, and panicked me just the same.
“I have to go,” I said, and then started to back away.
“I should have warned you,” she said, and my heart stopped beating while it waited to see if the next word out of her mouth would be
Gurley.
“ Anchorage can be a bit rough on a new kid in town.” She waited for me to answer, but I could only shrug. “ Fourth Avenue, I'm guessing? I mean, you don't need to be a mind reader to see what happened to you. Bar fight-some sailors, likely, they're usually pretty pissed by the time they come ashore in Anchorage.” She wrinkled her nose and started smiling again. “So I feel kinda bad. Sending you off to wander half the night. A kid like you.”
She'd won me over again until she came out with that
kid.
“I'm sorry,” I said. “I really do-have to go. I shouldn't have-”
“Not so fast, soldier,” she said, stepping after me with surprising speed. “You owe me something?”
“I-I don't owe you anything-I left before-”
“You left carrying something of mine. Something like-a dollar.” She waited for a response. “You think I'm a magician
and
a palm reader? I smack my palms together and the money comes out? Let's have it.” Her hand darted to my
Whom else could I tell what it was like to stand outside that hotel, looking up, sweating hormones, the tart, metallic taste of blood from the fight with Gurley only now going stale in my mouth?
Whom else could I tell that of everything I felt, the sharpest feeling was fear?
Damn right I was scared. Scared of Gurley? Maybe I thought that then, but that was a fleeting fear. You can't be scared of a car that loses control on the highway. There's no time, no reason: you just concentrate on staying alive.
No, I was scared of the woman up on the second floor. And it kept me standing on the street right up to, and then after, eleven o'clock. Five after, ten after. I couldn't bring myself to go in, although I decided I would rush ahead if I saw any other man make for the building. But in the meantime, I stood there, rubbing between thumb and forefinger the magic dollar Lily had given me, wondering as I did so what crime I might have already committed and what crimes I might soon commit.
Here was the problem. Lily was a woman, a spit-in-the-eye-of-God occultist (the distance between palm reading and worshiping idols seemed shorter in my youth), a siren-she was all this, yes, but what consumed me was that Lily was Japanese. And while that didn't automatically make her a spy, everything else did: her presence here, in Alaska, when all other Japanese had been sent to camps; this strange building; her dark office; Gurley's mysterious arrival; the dollar she'd given me-and, of course, the fact that she was supposedly a palm reader. She made no secret that she dealt in secrets.
“Boo,” came a voice from behind me, and I must have leapt in the air, straight up, several inches, with my heart going faster and higher. “Don't turn around,” said the voice, which was doing a fair impression of a movie hoodlum until it broke down laughing. “Boo,” the voice said again between laughs, and I turned around to find Lily, grinning so broadly she couldn't see.
“Hello,” I said, using the biggest, most adult soldier voice I could manage. Lily imitated me-not very well, I thought, but she also found this funny, and laughed until I at least started to smile.
But when she finally caught her breath and focused, she stopped laughing altogether.
“What happened to you?” she asked. She started to extend a hand to the bruises on my face, and if she'd actually touched them, I would have counted the battle with Gurley as well worth the pain. But she stopped short, just inches from my skin. There was that kind of buzzing that comes just before a first kiss-yes, I know about these things, or knew-and I couldn't say anything, do anything. She'd immobilized me faster than Gurley, and panicked me just the same.
“I have to go,” I said, and then started to back away.
“I should have warned you,” she said, and my heart stopped beating while it waited to see if the next word out of her mouth would be
Gurley.
“ Anchorage can be a bit rough on a new kid in town.” She waited for me to answer, but I could only shrug. “ Fourth Avenue, I'm guessing? I mean, you don't need to be a mind reader to see what happened to you. Bar fight-some sailors, likely, they're usually pretty pissed by the time they come ashore in Anchorage.” She wrinkled her nose and started smiling again. “So I feel kinda bad. Sending you off to wander half the night. A kid like you.”
She'd won me over again until she came out with that
kid.
“I'm sorry,” I said. “I really do-have to go. I shouldn't have-”
“Not so fast, soldier,” she said, stepping after me with surprising speed. “You owe me something?”
“I-I don't owe you anything-I left before-”
“You left carrying something of mine. Something like-a dollar.” She waited for a response. “You think I'm a magician
and
a palm reader? I smack my palms together and the money comes out? Let's have it.” Her hand darted to my
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