Sleeping in Flame (21 page)

"Yup. The stewardesses were talking about it when I went to the can."

"That's one way to congratulate us on our wedding." She saw the expression on my face and put her hand on my neck. "I'm not serious, Walker.

Not everything is symbolic. Just some poor guy caught up in the twentieth century. Let's watch."

After a long wait and a number of people running back and forth beneath the plane, the men from the funeral home and two airport attendants brought out the coffin. What was queer was its size -- not a child's, but not adult size, either. It must have been very heavy, too, because all of them had red faces or veins bulging on their necks. The brown metal box looked undamaged at first, but then I could see a small blaze of red cloth inside at the top where the seal had broken.

"Maris sighed. "Now he knows."

"What do you mean?"

"I've thought that since I was a girl. Whenever I see a coffin, I always think whoever's in there knows the Big Answer now: what it's like after we die. Then I wonder if they're lucky or not _to_

know."

"That's what Venasque wanted to know too. But with all his powers, he couldn't find out."

She looked at me. "Maybe we're not supposed to know. Maybe we should just live the best we can and hope we've done it right by the end."

"How do you know you're living the best you can? How do you know your best isn't really bad?"

"I'm an optimist. I don't think God would be that unfair."

"I love you, Maris."

"That's one of the reasons why I'm an optimist."

People create the reality they need in order to discover themselves.

Ernest Becker

A clown isn't funny in the moonlight.

Lon Chaney

HIS OWN TOO MUCH

1.

Vienna was in the midst of a January thaw. Islands of snow spotted the dark earth; the airport runway gleamed wetly in warm, late afternoon sun.

Grinning, Maris waited for me at the bottom of the stairs leading off the plane. "I just spoke German again and it felt funny."

"It doesn't feel funny being back here. It's great. When we get home I want to call California and see how Venasque is."

"Walker, you've been calling three times a day. I really think they'll let you know if anything changes."

"It's important to me, Maris."

"I know it is, but I think you're overdoing it. Let it rest a little."

People walked by toward the bus that would take us to the terminal. I
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took her arm and pulled her toward it. "Come on, it's not worth arguing about.

We're home."

"You're right. I wonder how your cat is? I kept thinking about him on the plane."

"He's happy as a clam. Whenever I give him to Frau Noot he comes back five pounds heavier.

She feeds him chicken hearts whenever he's hungry."

While we were waiting by the luggage carousel for our bags to arrive, a striking man with bleached white hair and high-tech, punk clothes walked up to Maris and embraced her from behind. She spun around, but on seeing who it was, hugged him.

"Vitamin D!"

"Hey, Maris! Where the hell have you been, damn it? We've been looking all over Munich for you."

"Victor Dixon, this is my husband, Walker Easterling."

"_Husband?_ You got married! That's the news of the week. You're living here now, or what?"

"Walker, Victor's the lead guitarist of the group Vitamin D."

"Hey, Walker! You're a lucky man and I hate you. Congratulations. Yeah, we're giving a concert here at the _Audi Max_ tomorrow night. You want to come?"

"You've got a hit, huh, Victor? No more playing at Onkel Pö?"

"Hey, we're number nine on the American Hot Hundred. Number one in Deutschland."

"I know. We were just in Los Angeles. Every time I turned on the radio they were playing it.

'Sundays in the Sky,' right? I'm proud of you, Victor.

You fought through and did it."

He looked at her with little boy's eyes, loving and longing for her approval. Plainly, something big had gone on between them in the past. I could have been jealous, but felt only pride. Pride in Maris, pride in our relationship. Victor Dixon was right to love her, and I liked him for that.

"Take care of her, Walker, she's true gold.

"I'll leave some tickets at the box office and you can go if you want.

Maris, I'm happy for you. Everybody'll be glad to hear you're all right."

With one more look that leaped at her like fire from a flame-thrower, he strode off. She winked at me and didn't see him turn for one last glimpse of her before going out the door.

"What's the scoop on him?"

"A romance from long ago. Victor was more interested in being famous than being kind."

"It looked like it's still a romance in his eyes."

"I know, but he blew it. You're not jealous?"

"No, proud. Proud you love me. He knows what he's missing. His face tells me that."

"That's interesting. He was always so cool. We tried, but he's another person who thinks he _deserves_ love."

"It's uncomfortable thinking about you being with someone else."

"There are our bags. It's uncomfortable thinking you were married once."

"Does that make you jealous?"

"Thoughtful."

Frau Noot lived down the hall. Her apartment looked like the inside of Heidi's hut in the Alps. Everything was _Bauern_ furniture, deer antlers, and bad paintings of mountain scenes on the walls, along with what seemed like hundreds of yellow photographs of her dead husband Leo, a conductor on the

Viennese tram system for thirty years. She had the sweet bad habit of making inedible cakes and pressing them on the nearest victim, who too often was me because of my vicinity. She was also Orlando's other great fan, and gladly took care of him whenever I had to be out of town. He was in her arms when she opened the door.

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"Maris and Walker, you're back! Say hello, Orlando."

"How are you, Frau Noot? We brought you a present from California."

"More bubblebath! You always bring me the best kind. Come in. We were just watching television."

Although he was blind, Frau Noot was convinced Orlando liked to sit on her lap and watch television. I knew he liked to sit on her lap and watch television because TV meant snack time, usually pretzels. Orlando didn't need to see pretzels to enjoy them.

"How's he been?"

"Sad, Walker. I fed him all his favorite meals and petted him whenever he wanted. But I think he was mad at me for something. Or else he missed you more than usual." Her face got tight and she looked about to cry.

"Oh, you know how he is. Cats do what they like. He ignores me half the time, too."

She smiled, but her eyes stayed downcast. "That's very good of you, but I didn't do something right this time. Look at how glad he is to see you." He was on the floor weaving back and forth between my legs.

"Hi, Orlando. How are you?"

"My brother gave me a special new recipe for American apple cake, Frau Noot. Let's make it together this week."

"Yes, Maris, I'd like that. Can we do it soon? The postman's birthday is next week and I'll make it for him if it's good."

"Sure. We'll do it." Maris looked at me and mouthed the words "Tell her." I mouthed "Us?"

pointing back and forth.

"Yes."

"Maris and I are going to get married, Frau Noot. You're the first one to know."

She clapped her hands and rocked back and forth in her seat. "_This_ is good to hear! I knew it would happen. I'm the first to know? What an honor!

When?"

Maris and I looked at each other and smiled.

"I don't know! We didn't talk about that yet."

"Do it on your birthday, Walker. That's coming soon."

"Exactly, Walker! That's when we'll do it. And we'll bake a big apple cake for the occasion."

"_I_ will bake it, Maris, but not apple! I have a special cake for weddings. That will be my present to you. _Eine Noot Torte à la Easterling!_"

Unlocking the door to my apartment, I asked Maris what she thought a Noot Torte would be.

"I don't know, but we'll have to eat the whole thing, even if it has lizards in it, or else her heart will be broken."

"Oh boy, home. Smell it. _Home!_" Orlando was the first one through the door, walking jauntily, like a model at a runway show. We unloaded the bags on the floor.

"Walker, I want to go home for a while and get some stuff. You don't mind, do you?"

"No, I want to take a shower and see if there's anything important in the mail. You want to take any of your things?"

"No, there's nothing important in there. My car's around the corner.

I'll be back in a couple of hours."

She came up to me and we embraced. "You smell like a trip."

"That's why I want a shower. Come back soon and we'll go out to dinner."

"I want a schnitzel. I love the idea of getting married on your birthday. How'd she know when it was? Did she guess your sign?"

"No, blackmailed me last year so she could bake a birthday cake."

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"How'd she do that?"

"Threatened to bake me one a day for the rest of the year unless I told her."

"That's dangerous. I think I have to go to the bathroom before I leave."

She went off down the hall while I walked into the bedroom to unpack.

I'd unzipped one bag and was staring into it tiredly when she returned.

"Does Orlando like to join you in the toilet?"

"Not usually."

"I'd say he was kinky, but he can't see. Followed me right in and lay by the tub while I peed. Now I'm really going. I'll see you in a couple of hours."

We kissed, and she left. Hanging up a suit, I realized I had no desire to do that, so I started to undress. Naked, I padded into the bathroom.

Lying on the floor by the tub was Venasque's pig, Connie.

"Don't be shocked." She spoke to me in his voice.

"Good Christ!" I sat down on the toilet. "It _is_ you, isn't it, Venasque?"

"Yes. I died a couple of hours ago. While you were circling Vienna." The pig shifted on the floor to a more comfortable position.

"Why are you here? How can you be?"

Orlando walked in and right over to Connie. He sat down next to her. The pig sniffed the cat indifferently.

"Were you here when Maris came in?"

"Yes, but she wasn't able to sense me. I'm here for you, Walker. I have to tell you some things."

"Is it . . . Is death what you thought it would be?"

"I can tell you one thing. If everyone was innocent, then there wouldn't be so much fear. The innocent don't know evil, so they don't fear it. No, only the guilty and the lovers really fear. The first because of what they are, the second for what they might lose. That's really all I can tell you about it, Walker. Do you have any other questions? I'll answer what I can."

"Why are you Connie?"

"Because she was alive and you know her. And because she's funny. Would you have preferred Big Top? Connie had to die for me to come to you, but animals have a quick passage to heaven anyway, and it's necessary for me to be here.

"You _must_ spend all of your time now finding out who you are, Walker.

It is the most important thing you'll ever do. I can't emphasize that too strongly. I understand now why you came to me and why all of those strange things happened to you. Believe me, it is more incredible than my being here like this. If we had been able to work together, it would have revealed itself to you then. Too bad -- it would have been the greatest achievement of my life."

"_Me_? What am I, Venasque? What are you saying?" I was freezing cold, and realized with no embarrassment that I had an erection.

"Study your dreams. Follow up on what you learn from them. Maris doesn't know it yet, but she's pregnant. You must find your father before the baby is born. Your real father, not the man in Atlanta. He is in Vienna and watches everything you do. He isn't your friend. He loved you once, but doesn't anymore. Be very careful with him."

"Who is he?"

"The potato seller. Melchior Kroll. The midget. All of them before, someone else this time.

When he loved you, he gave you some of his powers.

They're coming now, that is part of the problem, but you've got to learn to use them right or else you'll lose when you face him. Look at your hand."

There were no lines on my right palm. Or my left. No fingerprints, no lifeline, no love line. Only the soft pink hills of flesh and a purple trace of veins beneath the skin.

"Think of the name Melchior. Think of Caspar and Balthazar. They're next. I can tell you nothing
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else. I don't know what will happen to you. Fate is an open road. What you're capable of is beyond belief. But so is he. Touch the cat on his head."

I reached down and petted Orlando. Pushing his head up into my hand, he purred. Without warning, his completely white eyes began to grow darker and form pupils, irises. Whatever he saw for the first time in his life made him howl and arch his back as if he were about to be attacked. Spitting and hissing, he ran madly out of the room. I had given him sight.

"It won't last long; he'll be blind again in an hour. You don't have the power yet to make it stay, but you will soon, whether you work on it or not.

"One of my greatest mistakes was refusing to believe I could do things like that, things other people couldn't. In the beginning I made children fly, made myself invisible . . . You were there, you saw what I did. I couldn't accept it. But you have to, Walker, immediately, and work with it.

It took me years to figure out only one problem -- how to build my sand castle with the tools at hand. You don't have years, plus you have two problems. What does a man do with the power to raise the dead? Or give back sight, or see another person's future?" Both Venasque and his voice began to fade, the Cheshire Cat

from Walker in Wonderland. "The first thing to do is believe fully in those powers, no matter how skeptical you are. Because the second problem is much worse and you'll need those powers to succeed: How do you kill magic without killing yourself?"