awaited, endlessly analyzed, and sold for sums that had seemed impossible to him only a year earlier. Critics began to see certain themes recurring in his work, and offers came in not only for paintings but speaking engagements and even an autobiography. The editors of two art magazines actually got into a fistfight over the meaning of the limp watches, and a woman Dali had never seen before wrote an article insisting that she had been the model for the misshapen face. (No one believed her except Gala, who was certain that the woman was Dali's secret mistress and screamed at him so loudly and so long that he actually lost the hearing in his left ear for a full day.)
      But as Dali's star ascended, Jinx reported that she had problems of her own. She hoped they were the same problems Dali had had as a young man, so that he might be able to tell her how best to cope with them. It seemed that her peers on her side of the door thought she'd gone off the deep end. After all, who had ever heard of a square room or a level floor? Why did all the horses have the same dull manes and tails, and all the dogs the same number of legs? Why did rain and snow come down, when everyone knew they were just as likely to float up ?
      "Are you being true to your inner vision?" said Dali when she put the question to him during one of her increasingly infrequent visits.
      "It's not a matter of an inner vision," answered Jinx. "I paint what I see, and when I am here I see things that make my friends think I am crazy." Her face reflected her concern. "What can I do about it?"
      "Revel in it!" said Dali. "Anything that makes you unique is good. Everyone thinks I am crazy; well, everyone except Freud, anywayâand all that has done is enhance the value of my work." Suddenly he smiled. "Correct me if I'm mistaken, but didn't I learn that from you ?"
      "It works for you," answered Jinx, "but I don't want to be unique. I am just a girl, and all I want to do is paint the things I see. You are the one who was striving to find things that matched your bizarre mental images, not I. You came to my world; I didn't come to yours ."
      "I was drawn to it," said Dali, feeling defensive without knowing why.
      "That doesn't alter the fact that it was you who sought out the unusual and the bizarre, not me," said Jinx. "I merely stumbled upon it when I escorted you back to your side of the door."
      "All right," said Dali with a shrug. "If you won't brag about the bizarre visions you capture on canvas, if you won't take full credit for it, then the only alternative is to ignore the critics."
      "They're not critics, they're my friends," she said. "I'm just a girl, remember?"
      "Now that I come to think of it, that's very curious," said Dali.
      "What is?"
      Dali walked slowly around her, staring at her intently as he did so.
      "Very curious indeed," he repeated. "I hadn't noticed it before, or at least I hadn't paid any attention to it, but you haven't aged a minute since I first met you."
      "Time enslaves your world, not mine," she answered. "It is much more elastic on my side of the door."
      "And there is something else I never noticed until right now," continued Dali. "Except for the hair color, you could be Gala's younger sister. In fact, you could be Gala at age thirteen."
      "I hope that's not why you befriended me," said Jinx. "I am my own person."
      "No, that's not why I befriended you," said Dali, "though it has become obvious to me that I am drawn to women and girls with Gala's features. It is just an interesting observation." He paused, still studying her face.
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