Odd Interlude Read Online Free PDF Page A

surely as the antelope in the documentary is a few days’ worth of meals to the panther, I am prey, perhaps not to be eaten but in some way to be used.
    I look at Boo.
    Boo looks at me. Then he looks at Annamaria’s lighted windows.
    At Cottage 6, as I rap lightly on the door, it swingsopen as though the latch must not have been engaged. I step inside and find her sitting in a chair at a small table.
    She has taken an apple from the hamper, peeled and sectioned it. She is sharing the fruit with Raphael. Sitting at attention beside her chair, the golden retriever crunches one of the slices and licks his chops.
    Raphael looks at Boo and twitches his tail, happy that there’s no need to share his portion with a ghost dog. All dogs see lingering spirits; they aren’t as self-deluded about the true nature of the world as most people are.
    “Has anything unusual happened?” I ask Annamaria.
    “Isn’t something unusual always happening?”
    “You’ve had no … no visitor of any kind?”
    “Just you. Would you like some apple, Oddie?”
    “No, ma’am. I think you’re in danger here.”
    “Of the many people who want to kill me, none is in Harmony Corner.”
    “How can you be sure?”
    She shrugs. “No one here knows who I am.”
    “ I don’t even know who you are.”
    “You see?” She gives another slice of apple to Raphael.
    “I won’t be next door for a while.”
    “All right.”
    “In case you scream for me.”
    She appears amused. “Whyever would I scream? I never have.”
    “Never in your whole life?”
    “One screams when one is startled or frightened.”
    “You said people want to kill you.”
    “But I’m not afraid of them. You do what you need to do. I’ll be fine.”
    “Maybe you should come with me.”
    “Where are you going?” she asks.
    “Here and there.”
    “I’m already here, and I’ve been there.”
    I look at Raphael. Raphael looks at Boo. Boo looks at me.
    “Ma’am, you asked if I would die for you, and I said yes.”
    “That was very sweet of you. But you’re not going to have to die for me tonight. Don’t be in such a hurry.”
    I once thought Pico Mundo had more than its share of eccentric folks. Having traveled some, I now know eccentricity is the universal trait of humanity.
    “Ma’am, it might be dangerous to sleep.”
    “Then I won’t sleep.”
    “Should I get you some black coffee from the diner?”
    “Why?”
    “To help you stay awake.”
    “I suppose you sleep when you need to. But you see, young man, I only sleep when I want to.”
    “How does that work?”
    “Splendidly.”
    “Don’t you want to know why it could be dangerous to sleep?”
    “Because I might fall out of bed? Oddie, I trust your admonition isn’t frivolous, and I will remain awake. Now go do whatever you have to do.”
    “I’m going to snoop around.”
    “Then snoop, snoop,” she says, making a shooing motion.
    I retreat from her cottage and close the door behind me.
    Already Boo is walking toward the diner. I follow him.
    He fades away like fog evaporating.
    I don’t know where he goes when he dematerializes. Maybe a ghost dog can travel to and from the Other Side as he pleases. I have never studied theology.
    For the last day of January along the central coast, the night is mild. And quiet. The air smells faintly, pleasantly, of the sea. Nevertheless, my sense of impending peril is so great that I won’t be surprised if the ground opens under my feet and swallows me.
    Big moths caper around the sign on the roof of the diner. Their natural color must be white, because they become entirely blue or red depending on which neon is closer to them. Bats, dark and changeless, circle ceaselessly, feeding on the bright swarm.
    I don’t see signs and portents in everything. The voracious yet silent flying rodents chill me, however, and I decide not to stop first at the diner, as had been my intention.
    Past the three eighteen-wheelers, at the service station, the Jaguar is gone.