Are You There and Other Stories Read Online Free PDF

outskirts. Now he does business out of the Bijou on 52nd Street. That’s what I understand. Now please leave.”
    Norman put his gun away. There was a red circle third eye in the middle of the manager’s forehead.
    “Come on, Scout.”
    *
    “We shot that place up pretty good, and I still don’t hear any sirens. You’ve got lazy cops around here.”
    “They aren’t lazy,” Scout thought-projected. “They don’t even exist. This is a lawless place. No attorneys, either, by the way. Except in comic books. There’s the theater.”
    At the end of the block, golf ball-sized light bulbs raced each other around a marquee: RONALD COLEMAN in LOST HORIZON . Smaller letters crawling along the bottom of the marquee spelled out: open all night, continuous shows plus news reels.
    “They’re a little behind around here,” Norman said.
    “Progress is relative.”
    “Let’s get this over with,” he said, striding toward the Bijou. “I want to go home.”
    *
    The ticket window was unmanned but the doors stood open. Norman and Scout entered the lobby and discovered it empty and redolent of hot buttered popcorn.
    “Will you kill him?” Scout said.
    Norman gave the dog a dirty look. “Hell no.”
    “Because you could get away with it here.”
    “I said no.”
    “Why not?”
    “Because.” Norman swallowed. “Because I’m the good guy.”
    “I’m sorry,” Scout said. “I just thought you should say it out loud.”
    It was easy to spot the thief. There was only one head visible in the sea of theater seats.
    “Wait here,” Norman said.
    “Check.”
    Norman walked down the center aisle and stopped at the end of the thief’s row. On the big screen Ronald Coleman desperately searched a frozen wasteland for signs of Shangri-La.
    “Do you even know who I am?” the thief said, without looking at Norman.
    “Yes.”
    The thief turned away from the screen. Bernie Helmcke’s face was young and smooth, the face of a man in the last blush of youth. Movie light shifted over his features. Norman collapsed a little inside but fought not to show it. At that moment he realized he had been fighting his whole life not to show it.
    “Why’d you do it, Dad?”
    “I was compelled. Do you know what the most valuable commodity in the universe is? The greatest binding force? The Universal Integument? Do you know what it is?”
    Bernie had to raise his voice to be heard over the swelling musical score as the end credits began to roll. Norman stared at him.
    “Love,” the thief said.
    *
    They walked up the aisle together. Bernie was wearing an olive drab infantryman’s uniform. Norman was taller than his father, but he felt reduced, a child. He tried to make his hands into fists, but his rage had deserted him at last.
    “Come on,” Bernie said, patting his back, “I’ll buy you breakfast.”
    “No, thanks. I already ate with the dog.”
    *
    Norman, his dead father, and his imaginary dog walked toward the edge of the world.
    “What time is it?” Norman asked.
    “There isn’t any time here.”
    “What about the dawn? When—”
    “There is no dawn. Don’t ask me how that’s possible. All I know is this. We’re here to serve the ultimate proliferation of love, which vitalizes the universe. There are beings who see to this. I don’t know what they are. I wouldn’t call them angels. They look inside us, and they spin out these worlds. They tell stories, give us roles, harvest the vital end product; I believe they must be insane. I mean, look around. You see, son, death isn’t what we thought it was.”
    They arrived at the edge of the world. Beyond the jagged paving, stars suggested themselves out of the void.
    “I’m going home,” Norman said.
    “Son—”
    “Look, I don’t believe it. I can’t. And if this is a dream I want out. I want to feel normal again.”
    Norman stepped off the edge, blurred briefly, and found himself walking toward his dad and his dog. He stopped.
    “Bottom line, Norm,” Scout