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for some reason, a cube made out of straws or sticks seems to have a strange
effect on someone high on hallucinogenics. Laurel described almost exactly
what Felix described. Felix told me the universe was a lot bigger than he'd
thought it was, and that everything stretched into infinite different levels."
I sit for a moment in silence, trying to remain calm. If I had the cube here
with me, I'd show him its shadow and tell him what I'd
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t discovered ---since I don't have it, however, I'm not about to open my big
mouth and make him think I'm a fool with a head full of nonsense.
I'll wait, and show him tonight at the apartment.
No, I realize, not tonight. We're going to be at Heather's birthday party. Tom
is going to be busy dumping Pris and I'm going to be busy
"going for her."
"So what do you think?" Tom asks, prompting me out of my silence.
"What do I think?" Okay, damn it, you asked. "I think there may be a lot of
truth to what our bum was talking about. That cube is a four-dimensional cube.
Tom stares at me with his camera-lens eyes. "What do you mean?"
"It's a four-dimensional cube. It really has four physical dimensions."
Tom continues staring at me in silence for perhaps ten seconds, then suddenly
grins, then starts laughing. He thinks I'm joking. And as he laughs I find
myself smiling, and then he's laughing harder, so I
start to laugh. Okay, I think, let him think it's a joke.
Why not? Maybe it is a joke.
#
In San Francisco Tom slows for traffic. We follow the freeways out to the
panhandle then exit, twist and turn through the streets and pull up in front
of Priscilla's small apartment house. She's at her window, watching for us;
she waves, smiling her beautiful Pris-smile. Still smiling, she disappears
from view only to reappear a few seconds later at the front door. She bounces
down the steps, skips across the street and up to the car. Goddamn it! I am so
in love with her that I can't stand it. I can't stand the thought of her being
hurt! I turn and look at Tom but of course Pris is there and I can't say a
damn thing. She climbs in, gives Tom a kiss, then sits on my lap --- there is
nowhere else for her to sit, the car has no back seat because Tom removed it
when he was modifying everything.
"Hi!" she says in her throaty voice. She leans over and gives Tom another kiss
then settles back against me, half turning and giving me a kiss too. I put my
arms around her waist and give her a squeeze, and she rests her arms on mine,
holding my wrists and keeping my arms around her. Her head rests against my
shoulder as Tom sends the car flying forward, up the hill and to the left,
heading back across town to
Heather's house.
Heather lives in the North Beach district, sharing a house with five other
women who in various ways are "into" the theater. Cable car tracks run right
in front of the place. There are so many tourists in this area there is
nowhere to park, so we find a place about six blocks away and walk back. Like
most San Francisco houses, this one is squeezed in between two others, with no
side yards whatsoever, nothing more than an inch of space between the houses.
Steps lead up to the front door;
the driveway leads down, the garage being under the house. Six cars are jammed
into a driveway built to accommodate only two.
We walk up the steps to the open door; music is blasting inside and there is a
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drone of yapping voices. We enter and Heather is right there in the front
room, surrounded by people. Aaron is already there and looks relieved when we
show up --- he hates Heather but he loves parties. Heather sees Tom and breaks
off her conversation, rushing forward, throwing her arms around him with a
squeal and hugging him.
"Oh, god, I'm so glad you could come!" she says, as if there were any doubt.
As Heather is molesting Tom, Aaron makes his way across the crowded room to
where Pris and I still stand, and says, "The beer's in the
'fridge, kids!" He leans over and gives Pris a hug and a kiss on the cheek.
Pris buries herself into his hug, smiling, then steps back with
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t sparkling eyes. What is this? Is she in love with Aaron, now? No, she's just
happy. Tom and Heather are still embracing but Pris is enduring it like a
champ, confident that Tom belongs to her and Heather is getting attention only
because it's her birthday.
Heather breaks away from Tom with a final kiss and turns to us, saying hello
and, for some reason, giving me a hug and a kiss on the lips. She hugs Pris,
too, then turns around and hugs Tom again. Then she says something to Tom and
the two of them walk away.
Just like that, I think. Now what happens? Am I officially in charge of Pris?
No, Pris is following right after Tom and Heather, trailing along like a
puppy. I watch her back as she walks away and can tell by the lack of bounce
in her stride that she is already worried.
Tom blatantly left her behind.
I start to follow but Aaron grabs my shoulder. "As your lawyer, I
advise you to stay out of this."
"Oh Christ, Aaron. This is terrible."
"Come on, let's get some beer."
Beer? Jesus, what a one-track mind! But no, Aaron is right; I
follow him to the kitchen and get my first beer of the evening. I
suddenly feel the intense need for alcohol in my bloodstream.
The kitchen is like a pedestrian's freeway; people are constantly bringing in
freshly bought beer and putting it in the refrigerator, and everybody else is
constantly removing it. Aaron and I grab some imported
German beer someone has just put in there and then escape to the back porch, [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] - zanotowane.pl
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