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"In my dream," Viola said, "I saw myself, and my face was… bro­ken, dead I had a hole in my forehead"
"Maybe it was a dream about why you married Rafael"
"Not funny," Terri admonished me
"I think maybe I’d been shot," Viola said
"Honey," Terri comforted her, "when’s the last tiuess never," Viola said
"Then I wouldn’t worry about this one"
"Best I can remember," Viola said, "I’ve never before seen htlimpsed my face, either
"I had a hole in my forehead," she repeated, "and h-powered round of significant caliber, upon puncturing the forehead, would release treht distort the structure of the entire skull, resulting in a subtle but disturbing new arrangeht eye," Viola added, "was bloodshot and seemed to… to swell half out of the socket"
In our dreams, we are not detached observers, as are the characters who dream in movies These internal dramas are usually seen strictly frohtmares, we can’t look into our own eyes except by indirection, perhaps because we fear discover­ing that therein lie the worstus
Viola’s face, sweet asexpression "Tell me the truth, Odd Do you see death in me?"
I didn’t say to her that death lies dorh not one sht, had been revealed to er inducedhappy life and pass away in your sleep, of old age"
"Really?"
S, I was unashaht be true I see no real harht to be her oracle
In a betterto the paying custoer, I said to Terri, "October 23, 1958"
"Elvis was in the arrilled-cheese sandwich "He was stationed in Ger of the twenty-third, he went into Frankfurt to attend a Bill Haley concert"
"You could bethis up"
"You know I’m not" Her crisp dill pickle crunched audibly when she bit it "Backstage, he met Haley and a Swedish rock-’n’-roll star named Little Gerhard"
"Little Gerhard? That can’t be true"
"Inspired, I guess, by Little Richard I don’t know for sure I never heard Little Gerhard sing Is Viola going to be shot in the head?"
"I don’t know" Juicy and cooked er had been enhanced with a perfect pinch of seasoned salt Poke was a contender "Like you said, dreas hard She doesn’t need this"
"Shot in the head? Who does need it?"
"Will you look after her?" Terri asked
"Hoould I do that?"
"Put out your psychic feelers Maybe you can stop the thing before it happens"
"I don’t have psychic feelers"
"Then ask one of your dead friends They so to happen, don’t they?"
"They’re generally not friends Just passing acquaintances Anyway, they’re helpful only when they want to be helpful"
"If I was dead, I’dhelp you," Terri assured me
"You’re sweet I aler and lickedto start shooting people, it’ll be Fungus Man"
"Who’s he?"
"Sat at the counter a while ago Ordered enough food for three people Ate like a ravenous swine"
"That’s my kind of customer But I didn’t see him"
"You were in the kitchen He was pale, soft, with all rounded edges, like sorow in Hannibal Lecter’s cellar"
"He put off bad vibes?"
"By the tie of bodachs"
Terri stiffened and looked warily around the restaurant ‘Any of the on the premises at the moment is Bob Sphincter"
The real name of the pinchpenny in question was Spinker, but he earned the secret naardless of the total of his bill, he always tipped a quarter
Bob Sphincter fancied hien­erous than John D Rockefeller, the oil billionaire According to leg­end, even in the elegant restaurants of Manhattan, Rockefeller had routinely tipped a dime
Of course in John D’s day, which included the Great Depression, a dime would purchase a newspaper and lunch at an Autoet you just a newspaper, and you won’t want to read anything in it unless you’re a sadist, a masochist, or a suicidally lonely wretch desperate to find true love in the personal ads
Terri said, "Maybe this Fungus Man was just passing through town, and he hit the highway as soon as he cleaned his plate"
"Got a hunch he’s still hanging around"
"You gonna check him out?"
"If I can find him"
"You need to borrow my car?" she asked