Myth-Nomers And Im-Pervections Part 12

"Whew! Thanks," the Djin said, hovering in his now- accustomed place. "I told you before I'm not real strong.

Even hovering takes energy, ya know. You were really moving there."

"Sorry," I responded curtly, more out of habit than any- thing else.

In all honesty, the Djin's comfort was not a high priority item in my mind just then. I had had Edvik drive us back to the hotel after we left the b.u.t.terfly's place. Instead of going on up to my room, however, I had headed off down the sidewalk. The street vendor I had spoken to earlier waved a friendly greeting, but I barely acknowledged it with a curt nod of my head. The b.u.t.terfly's observations on my life had loosed an explosion of thoughts in my mind, and I figured maybe a brisk walk would help me sort things out.

101.

102 I don't know how long I walked before Kalvin's plea snapped me out of my mental wheel-spinning. I had only vague recollections of shouldering my way past slower- moving pedestrians and snarling at those who were quick enough to get out of my path on their own. The police would have been pleased to witness it ... only on Perv two days and already I could walk down the street like a native.

"Look, do you want to talk about this? Maybe some place sitting down?''

I looked closer at the Djin. He really did look tired, his face streaked with sweat and his little chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. Strange, I didn't feel like I had been exerting myself at all.

"Talk about what?" I said, realizing as I spoke that the words were coming out forced and tense.

"Come on, Skeeve. It's obvious that what the b.u.t.terfly said back there has you upset. I don't know why, it sounded like pretty good advice to me, but maybe talking it out would help a bit."

"Why should I be upset?" I snapped. "He only chal- lenged all the priorities I've been living by and suggested that my best friend is probably the worst thing in my life.

Why should that bother me?"

"It shouldn't," Kalvin responded innocently, "unless, of course, he's right. Then I could see why it would bother you."

I opened my mouth for an angry retort, then shut it again.

I really couldn't think of anything to say. The Djin had just verbalized my worst fears, ones I didn't have any answers for.

"... And running away from it won't help! You're going to have to face up to it before you're any good to yourself ... or anyone else, for that matter."

103.

Kalvin's voice came from behind me, and I realized I had picked up my pace again. At the same moment, I saw that he was right, I was trying to run away from the issues, both figuratively and literally. With that knowledge, the fatigue of my mental and physical efforts. .h.i.t me all at once and I sagged, slowing to a stop on the sidewalk.

"That's better. Can we talk now?"

"Sure. Why not? I feel like getting something in my stomach, anyway."

The Djin gave a theatrical wince.

"Ootch! You mean we're going to try to find a restaurant again? Remember what happened the last time?"

In spite of myself I had to smile at his antics.

"As a matter of fact, I was thinking more on the order of getting something to drink."

While I spoke, I was casting about for a bar. One thing about Perv I had noticed, you never seemed to be out of sight of at least one establishment that served alcoholic beverages. This spot proved to be no exception, and now that I was more attuned to my environment, I discovered just such a place right next to where we were standing.

"This looks like as good a spot as any," I said, reaching for the door. "C'mon, Kalvin, I'll buy the first round."

It was meant as a joke, because I hadn't seen the Djin eat or drink anything since I released him from the bottle.

He seemed quite agitated at the thought, however, hanging back instead of moving with me.

"Wait, Skeeve, I don't think we should ..."

I didn't dally to hear the rest. What the heck, this had been his idea... sort of. Fighting a sudden wave of irritation, I pushed on into the bar's interior.

At first glance, the place looked a little seedy. Also the second and third glances, though it took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the dim light. It was small, barely big 104 enough to hold the half-dozen tiny tables that crowded the floor. Sagging pictures and clippings adorned the walls, though what they were about specifically I couldn't tell through the grime obscuring their faces. There was a small bar with stools along one wall, where three tough-looking patrons crouched hunched forward in conversation with the bartender. They ceased talking and regarded me briefly with cold, unfriendly stares as I surveyed the place, though whether their hostility was because I was a stranger or be- cause I was from off-dimension I wasn't sure. It did occur to me that I was still wearing my disguise spell business suit which definitely set me apart from the dark, weather- beaten outfits the other patrons wore almost like a uniform.

It also occurred to me that this might not be the wisest place to have a quiet drink.

"I think we should get out of here, Skeeve."

I don't know when Kalvin rejoined me, but he was there hovering at my side again. His words echoed my own thoughts, but sheer snorkiness made me take the opposite stance.

"Don't be a sn.o.b, Kalvin," I muttered. "Besides, sitting down for a while was your idea, wasn't it?"

Before he could answer, I strode to one of the tables and plopped down in a seat, raising one hand to signal the bartender. He ignored it and returned to his conversation with the other drinkers.

"C'mon, Skeeve. Let's catch a cab back to the hotel and have our conversation there," Kalvin said, joining me.

"You're in no frame of mind to start drinking. It'll only make things worse."

He made a lot of sense. Unfortunately, for the mood I was in, he made too much sense.

"You heard the b.u.t.terfly, Kalvin. I've been letting too many other people run my life by listening to their well- 105.

meaning advice. I'm supposed to start doing what I want to do more often . . . and what I want to do right now is have a drink . . . here."

For a moment I thought he was going to argue with me, but then he gave a sigh and floated down to sit on the table itself.

"Suit yourself," he said. "I suppose everyone's ent.i.tled to make a jacka.s.s out of themselves once in a while."

"What'll it be?"

The bartender was looming over my table, saving me from having to think of a devastating comeback for Kalvin's jibe. Apparently, now that he had established that he wouldn't come when summoned, he wanted to take my order.

"I'll have ..."

Suddenly, a gla.s.s of wine didn't feel right. Unfortunately, my experience with drinks was almost as limited as my experience with members of the opposite s.e.x.

"... Oh, just give me a round of whatever they're drinking at the bar there."

The bartender gave a grunt that was neither approving nor disapproving and left, only to return a few moments later with a small gla.s.s of liquid which he slammed down on the table hard enough for some- of the contents to slop over the edge. I couldn't see it too clearly, but it seemed to be filled with an amber fluid with bubbles in it that gathered in a froth at the top.

"Ya gotta pay by the round," he sneered, as if it were an insult.

I fished a handful of small change out of my pocket and tossed it on the table, reaching for the gla.s.s with the other hand.

Now, some of you might be wondering why I was so willing to experiment with a strange drink after everything 106.

I've been saying about food on Perv. Well, truth to tell, I was son of hoping this venture would end in disaster. You see, by this time I had cooled off enough to acknowledge that Kalvin was probably right about going back to the hotel, but I had made such a big thing out of making an independent decision that changing my mind now would be awkward.

Somewhere in that train of thought, it occurred to me that if this new drink made me sick, I would have an unimpeach- able reason for reversing my earlier decision. With that in mind, I raised the gla.s.s to my lips and took a sip.

The icy burst that hit my throat was such a surprise that I involuntarily took another swallow . . . and another. I hadn't realized how thirsty I was after my brisk walk until I hit the bottom of the gla.s.s without setting it down or taking a breath. Whatever this stuff was, it was absolutely marvel- ous, and the vaguely bitter aftertaste only served to remind me I wanted more.

"Bring me another of these," I ordered the bartender, who was still sorting through my coins. "And can you bring it in a larger container?"

"I could bring you a pitcher," he grumbled.

"Perfect... and pull a little extra there for your trouble."

"Say . . . thanks."

The bartender's mood and opinion of me seemed to have improved as he made his way to the bar. I congratulated myself for remembering what Edvik had said about tipping.

"I suppose it would be pushy to try to point out that you're drinking on an empty stomach," the Djin said drily.

"Not at all," I grinned.

For once I was ahead of him and raised my voice to call the bartender.

"Say! Could you bring me some of that popcorn while you're at it?"

Most of the bar snacks that were laid out seemed to be 107.

in mesh-covered containers to keep them from crawling or hopping away. Amidst these horrors, however, I had spotted a bin of popcorn when I came in, and had made special note of it; thinking that at least some forms of junk food appeared to be the same from dimension to dimension.

"Happy now?"

"I'd be happier if you picked something that was a little less salty," Kalvin grimaced, "but I suppose it's better than nothing."

The bartender delivered my pitcher along with a basket of popcorn, then wandered off to greet some new patrons who had just wandered in. I tossed a handful of the popcorn into my mouth and chewed it while I refilled my gla.s.s from the pitcher. It was actually more spicy than salty, which made me revise some of my earlier thoughts about the uni- versality of junk food, but I decided not to mention this discovery to Kalvin. He was fussing at me enough already.

"So, what do you want to talk about?" I said, forcing myself not to immediately wash down the popcorn with a long drink from the gla.s.s.

The Djin leaned back and c.o.c.ked an eyebrow at me.

"Well, your mood seems to have improved, Imt I was under the impression you might want to talk about the But- terfly's advice this afternoon."

As soon as he spoke, my current bubble of levity popped and my earlier depression slammed into me like a fist. With- out thinking I drained half the contents of my gla.s.s.

"I don't know, Kalvin. I've got a lot of respect for the b.u.t.terfly, and I'm sure he meant well, but what he said has raised a lot of questions in my mind . . . questions I've never really asked myself before."

I topped off my gla.s.s casually, hoping the Djin wouldn't notice how fast I was drinking the stuff.

"Questions like . . . ?"

108 "Well, like . . . What are friends . . . really? On the rare occasions the subject comes up, all people seem to talk about is the need to be needed. All of a sudden I'm not sure I know what that means."

Somehow, my gla.s.s had gotten empty again. I refilled it as I continued.

"The more I look at it, the more I think that if you really need your friends, it's either a sign of weakness or laziness.

You either need or want people to do your thinking for you, or your fighting for you, or whatever. Things that by rights you should be able to do for yourself. By rights, that makes you a parasite, existing by leeching off other people's strength and generosity."

I started to take a drink and realized I was empty. I suspected there was a leak in the gla.s.s, but set it aside, resolving to let it sit there for a while before I tried refilling it again.

"On the other hand, if you don't need your friends, what good are they? Friends take up a big hunk of your time and cause a lot of heartache, so if you don't really need them, why should you bother? In a sense, if they need you, then you're encouraging them into being parasites instead of de- veloping strength on their own. I don't know. What do you think, Kalvin?"

I gestured at him with my gla.s.s, and realized it was full again. So much for my resolve. I also realized the pitcher was almost empty.

"That's a rough one, Skeeve," the Djin was saying, and I tried to focus on his words. "I think everybody has to reach their own answer, though it's a rare person who even thinks to ask the question. I will say it's an over-simplifica- tion to try to equate caring about someone with weakness, just as I think it's wrong to a.s.sume that if we can leam from our friends, they're actually controlling our thinking."

109.

He stopped and stared at my hand. I followed his gaze and realized I was trying to fill my empty gla.s.s from an empty pitcher.

"I also think," he sighed, "that we should definitely head back to the hotel now. Have you paid the tab? Are we square here?"

"Tha.s.s another thing," I said, fighting to get the words out past my tongue, which suddenly seemed to have a mind of its own. "What he said about money. I haven't been using my money right."

"For cryin' out loud, Skeeve! Lower your voice!"

"No, really! I've got all thissh money ..."

I fumbled my moneybelt out and emptied the gold onto the table.

"... And has it made ME happy? Has it made ANY- BODY happy?"

When no answer came, I blinked my eyes, trying to get Kalvin back into focus. When he finally spoke, he seemed to be very tense, though his voice was very quiet.

"I think you may have just made someone happy, but I don't think it'll be you."

That's when I noticed the whole bar was silent. Looking around, I was surprised to see how many people had come in while we were talking. It was an ugly-looking crowd, but no one seemed to be talking to each other or doing anything. They just stood there looking at me . . . or to be more exact, looking at the table covered with my money.

Chapter Twelve:.

"HOLY BATs.h.i.t, FATMAN! I mean . . ."