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Three eighteen-wheelers—a Mack, a Cascadia, and a Peterbilt—are parked on the farther side of the station These well-polished rigs appear to belong to owner-operators, because they have custom paint jobs, numerous chrome add-ons, double-hump fenders, and the like
Beyond the trucks, a long low building appears to be a diner, in a stylethe service station The eatery announces itself with rooftop red-and-blue neon: HARMONY CORNER / OPEN 24 HOURS Two pickups and two SUVs are in front of the diner, and when Annan infore rentals we should inquire within
The third and final elees, lies past the restaurant The units are arranged in an arc, sheltered under raceful acacias softly but hted It appears to be a motor court from the early days of autoht hide out with Lauren Bacall and eventually end up in a gunfight with Edward G Robinson
“They’ll have two cottages available,” Annaine When I start to open ic Beach There may be an all-points bulletin out for you”
After thwarting delivery of the four thermonuclear devices to terrorists, mere hours earlier, I’d called the FBI office in Santa Cruz to report that they could find four bo in a Salvation Aric Beach They know I’er to talk with ht, and they don’t wantthe dance with anyone but them
“They don’t know my name,” I assure Annamaria “And they don’t have my picture”
“They ood description Before you show yourself around here, Oddie, let’s see how big a story it is on the news”
I extract ot some cash”
“So do I” She waves away the wallet “Enough for this”
As I sluoes into the diner
She is wearing athletic shoes, gray slacks, and a baggy sweater that doesn’t conceal her pregnancy The sleeves are too long, hanging past the first knuckles of her fingers She looks like a waif
People warht, and the trust that she inspires in everyone is uncanny They aren’t likely to turn her away just because she lacks a credit card and ID
In Magic Beach, she had been living rent-free in an aparth she never asks for anything, people give her what she needs I have seen that this is true
She claims there are people ant to kill her, but she seeht be I have yet to see proof that she fears anything
Earlier, she asked if I would die for her Without hesitation, I said that I would—and meant it
I don’t understand either my reaction to her or the source of her power She is so other than she appears to be She tells me that I already knohat she is and that I only need to accept the knowledge that I already possess
Weird Or maybe not
Long ago, I learned that, even with ularity and that the world is a place of layered wonders beyond counting Most people unconsciously blind themselves to the true nature of existence, because they fear knowing that this world is a place ofIt’s immeasurably easier to live in a world that’s all surfaces, thatof you
Because I so love this wondrous world, I aood humor My friend and mentor Ozzie Boone says buoyancy is one of h to warn that excess buoyancy ht lead to carelessness, he sometimes reminds me that shit, too, floats
But on my worst days, which are rare and of which this is one, I can get down so low that the botto I don’t even want to look for a way up I suppose surrender to sadness is a sin, though my current sadness is not a black depression but is instead a sorrow like a long ht
When Annaets behind the wheel, she handsclean And the food sood It’s called Harmony Corner because it’s all owned and operated by the Har by what Holly Harmony told me She’s the lone waitress this shift”
Annamaria starts the Mercedes and drives to theat me, which I pretend not to notice
After she parks between two cottages and switches off the engine and the headlights, she says, “Melancholy can be seductive when it’s twined with self-pity”
“I don’t pity myself,” I assure her
“Then ould you call it? Perhaps self-sympathy?”
I decide not to answer
“Self-coests “Self-commiseration? Self-condolence?”
“I didn’t think it was in your nature to needle a guy”
“Oh, youngyou”
“Then ould you call it?”
“Compassionate mockery”
The landscape lah leaves that quiver in a gentle breeze, flutter feathery golden light across the windshield and across Annamaria’s face and surely across my face as well, as if projected upon us is a fi
led multitudes
I reht”
“Would it be better if you had failed to resist evil and had killed no one?”
I say nothing
She persists: “Those would-be mass murderers … do you suppose they would have surrendered peacefully at your stern request?”
“Of course not”
“Would they have been willing to debate the righteousness of the crimes they intended to commit?”
“The et, but I can’t see how it’s compassionate”
She is unrelenting “Perhaps they would have been willing to go with you on that TV-courtrooe Judy decide whether they did or did not have the moral authority to nuke four cities”
“No They’d be too scared of Judge Judy I’e Judy”
“You did the only thing you could have done, young man”
“Yeah All right But why do I have to go froht? So much death No matter how bad those people were, nomachine”
She reaches out to h I can’t explain why, the very contact lifts my spirits
“Maybe there won’t be any killing here,” she says
“But it’s all accelerating”
“What is?”
“My life, these threats, the craziness—co at me like an avalanche”
The feathers of soft light flutter not just across her face but also in her eyes as she squeezes my hand “What do you most want, Oddie? What hope drives you? The hope of a little rest, some leisure time? The hope of an uneventful, quiet life as a fry cook, a shoe salesman?”
“You know it’s none of that”
“Tell me I’d like to hear you say it”