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Su, with little hope of wind and none of rain Although reed on 4:48, hours of searing sunshine re weather forecast had called for a high of 110 degrees, by no means a record for the Mojave I suspected that this prediction had been exceeded

When cool-climate relatives and friends are astonished to hear such temperatures, Pico Mundians put a cha that the hue su stea sauna

Even in the shade of a huge old Indian laurel with roots no doubt deep enough to tap the Styx, I couldn’t pretend that I was being cod­dled in a sauna I felt like a child who had wandered into the ginger­bread house of a Black Forest witch and had been popped into her oven with the control at SLOW BAKE

Occasionally a car passed, but no pedestrians appeared No children were at play No hoarden

One dog slu, as if it were stub­bornly tracking the e of a cat

Soon my body provided the humidity that the air lacked, until I sat in a puddle of sweat

I could have started the Mustang and switched on the air condition­ing, but I didn’t want to waste Terri’s gasoline or overheat the engine Besides, as any desert denizen knows, repeated heating and cooling may temper some metals, but it softens the huus Man reappeared He locked the side door of the house, which suggested that no one reot behind the wheel of his dust-shrouded Explorer,

I slid down inas the SUV drove past and left a trail of sound that dwindled into silence

Crossing to the pale-yellow house, I didn’t worry unduly about be­ing watched fro in Camp’s End inspired alienation rather than the cohborhood Watch co a greater spec­tacle of ht the shadows of the carport and knocked on the side door that Fungus Man had used No one answered

if the door had featured a deadbolt lock, I would have had to force aConfronted by aAmericans, I had been so well educated by TV cop dra­mas that I could slip easily into the house

To simplify my life, I keep no bank accounts and pay only cash; therefore, I have no credit cards California had thoughtfully issued to h to loid the lock

As I’d anticipated, the kitchen wasn’t a shrine either to Martha Stewart decor or to cleanliness The place couldn’t be fairly called a pigsty, either; it was just plagued by a general disarray, with here and there an offering of crumbs to ants if they wished to visit

A faint but unpleasant smell laced the well-cooled air I could not identify thesource, and at first I thought that it us Man, for he appeared to be one ould issue strange and noxious odors if not also deadly spoors

I didn’t knohat I sought here, but I expected to recognize it when I saw it So had drawn the bodachs to this man, and I had followed in their ith the hope of discovering a clue to the reason for their interest

After I circled the kitchen, trying but failing to findbanana peel left on a cutting board, in the unwashed dishes in the sink, and in the ordinary contents of drawers and cupboards, I realized that the air was not just cool but inexplicably chilly For the most part, the sweat on my ex­posed skin had dried On the nape of h it had turned to ice

The pervasive chill was inexplicable because even in the Mojave, where air conditioning was essential, a house as old and as hu Window-le cha of a dwelling that didn’t merit the expense

The kitchen had no suchunits

Often in a hoht and only in the bedrooht otherwise be difficult Even in this small house, however, an air conditioner in the bedroom would not be able to cool the entire structure Certainly it could not have made an icebox of the kitchen

Besides, - and hum of the compressor, the rattle of the fan I heard none of that here

As I stood, head cocked, listening, the house waited in silence On consideration, I suddenly found this stillness to be unnatural

My shoes should have teased noise from the cracked linoleu aridity Yet when I moved, I had the stealth of a cat on pillows

In retrospect, I realized that the drawers and the cupboard doors had opened and closed with only the softest whisper, as though con­structed with frictionless slides and hinges

When I moved toward the open doorway between the kitchen and the next roo the trans room proved to be as dreary and as marked by disorder as the kitchen Old battered paperbacks, no doubt purchased at a used-book store, and azines littered the floor, the couch, the coffee table

The ht expect Photos of nude women were featured between articles about extreme sports, fast cars, and pathetic seduction techniques, all surrounded by ads for viril­ity herbs and for devices guaranteed to increase the size of the average man’s favorite body part, by which I do not mean his brain

My favorite body part is ive Stormy Llewellyn Further, is ht, joined the co dead

The paperbacks surprisedby the cover illustrations, these were of the more chaste variety, in which bosoms seldom heaved and bodices were not often lustily ripped open They were stories less concerned with sex than with love, and they were a peculiar counterpoint to thetheir legs, and licking their lips lasciviously

When I picked up one of the books and thues made no noise

By this point, I seemed to be able to hear no sounds except those that had an internal origin: the thud of my heart, the rush of blood ineffect of the ht to have alare experiences as by the aroriddle, I don’t alarm easily Furtherrettable, to surrender always to es of the rous Man did not live here alone These booksmaterial of his companion