Prerequisites for Sleep Read Online Free PDF Page A

going to be inflated.
    â€œThis is Andy, my better half,” I say to Magnus. He is puzzled by my colloquial expression. “My boyfriend,” I say. Then Andy looks puzzled. This is not a term we’ve ever used. “We live together. He came to see my cake.” Magnus nods and walks to the fan and plugs it in.
    When the air starts to enter the pile of fabric, I hold my breath. We watch as the layers slowly rise upwards. Then each icing tube and yellow blossom takes shape, reminding me of a slow-motion nature sequence on TV . For a moment, we are suspended in time as we wait for the candles to stand up on top. They bounce into position and I imagine a cartoon boing. I jump up and down and hug Andy while Magnus tethers it to a couple of trees, then crawls inside to check the baffles. When he comes out, he says nothing, but I recognize his look.
    â€œIt’s amazing,” says Andy. “When it started to rise, it actually looked like it was baking, like it contained yeast or baking powder. And I thought you couldn’t cook.”
    Later, Andy is making us a special dinner to mark the occasion. I watch him cutting celery, mesmerized by how he rolls the knife on the curve of the blade with one hand and slowly advances the stalks with the other. There is no chopping sound, just a slice of stainless steel and a green crunch. This is his art. I am sitting on a tall stool next to the island, jabbering on about my cake, when it registers that I am bordering on annoying so I change the subject.
    â€œYou never tell me about your work.”
    He stops and looks up. “Not much to tell. I go into the kitchen. I cook someone else’s menu, then I leave.” He finishes the celery and reaches for a package of chicken livers. “A chef doesn’t really exist unless he is cooking his own creations.”
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    The next day Magnus tells me that the cake has been rented for the weekend and we need to create the banners. He hands me a paper with the words HONEST AL’S BIRTHDAY SALE , and tells me to have Lin do them. He is smiling more widely than usual, something I didn’t think was possible. “I should take you up in the balloon,” he says.
    â€œReally! What’s it like?”
    â€œPeaceful. You’re drifting above the earth with only a basket between you and falling. Of course, things appear small, but not like when you see them from a plane — there is no glare from glass, so things have more depth. People sometimes reach out to try to touch them. For some reason, they need to make sure they are real. Some people can get carried away and you have to pull them back.”
    â€œSounds surreal.”
    â€œI’ll take you sometime so you can experience it for yourself.”
    When I turn around, Magnus’s wife, Joanne, is glaring at me. She is sitting at the front desk training Nancy, the new secretary. Nancy is focused on the phone in front of her as if it is about to grow legs and walk away.
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    On Monday, I arrive early to review my documentation on the cake. With written instructions and diagrams, May and Lin will create additional inventory. As I walk by his office, Magnus calls out to me. He is sitting at his desk, which is unusual, because Magnus is too hyper to sit still. Outside, it is raining and water is dripping from my jacket. I wipe away a drop that lands on my cheek and push my hood back.
    â€œDo you think you can design an elephant?” he asks.
    I take a moment to think. “Sitting down would be best.”
    â€œYes, sitting down is best. Can it be done?”
    â€œSure, why not?”
    At the drafting table, doodling some rough elephants, I hope I’m not getting too cocky. This could prove to be much harder than a cake. Magnus comes by and looks at my sketches. “This elephant that you’re making, what colour nylon should I order?”
    â€œPink.”
    â€œWhy pink?” he says, wrinkling his nose so that he