Page 28 (1/2)

“Why?”

“This poeraveyard You ever have one of those crystal balls you shook and the snow lifted in blizzards inside? That’s how my bones feel now”

“Bushwah,” was Roy’s comment

I glanced over at his great hawk’s profile, which cleaved the night air, full of that opti able to build a world just the way they want it, no matter what

I re fell off the Eot up, ere never the same We told each other that one day ould write and , or simply die

“Beast,” whispered Roy “Here we are”

And we pulled up near the Brown Derby, a restaurant with no huge Brown Derby on top, like a similar restaurant on Wilshire Boulevard, five h to fit God at Easter, or any studio bigwig on Friday afternoon The only way you knew this Brown Derby was important was by the 999 cartoon-caricature portraits on every wall inside Outside was quasi-Spanish nothing We braved the nothing to step in and face the 999

The maître d’ of the Brown Derby lifted his left eyebroe arrived A for lover, he now only loved cats We smelled funny

“Of course you have no reservations?” he observed, languidly

“About this place?” said Roy “Plenty”

That rippled the fur on the maître d’s neck, but he let us in anyway

The restaurant was al dessert and cognac The waiters had already begun to renapkin and reutensil some of the tables

There was a sound of laughter ahead, andthree wo toward a ht’s bills The young wo while he paid up, then, in a flourish of perfume, they turned and ran pastat the man in the booth

Stanislau Groc

“God,” cried Roy “You!”