Misplaced (127 page)

“Who
is
Zozobra
,
and
why
must
he
burn?”
Khara
asked.
“It
seems an unorthodox punishment, especially in a holy city.”

“I’
v
e
heard
it
m
enti
o
ned
a
c
ouple
o
f
ti
m
es
n
o
w—
som
ething
abou
t
a
ritua
l
burning
.
Thi
s
i
s
America
;
the
y
can’
t
b
e
talking
about
a
person.
By
the
w
ay,
I
hope
you
said
a
pra
y
er
for
Bea.”

Khara’s
cheeks
flamed.
“She’s
your
dearest
friend,
and
y
et
yo
u
wil
l
no
t
pus
h
asid
e
you
r
prid
e
t
o
pra
y
tha
t
he
r
precious
famil
y
b
e
protected.
”
Khar
a
grabbe
d V
ictoria’
s
ar
m
and
dragge
d
he
r
pas
t
th
e
ma
n
a
t
th
e
door
.
“Ho
w
wil
l
yo
u
e
v
er
forgi
ve
yoursel
f
i
f
somethin
g
happen
s
t
o
he
r
an
d
yo
u
did
nothing
?
Whate
v
e
r
you
r
disput
e
wit
h
th
e
Kin
g
o
f
King
s
is
,
this
has
gone
far
enough.
I
will
not
hear
another
of
your
petty
refusals.”

Rather
than
make
a
scene,
V
ictoria
allo
w
ed
herself
to
be
led
inside, muttering,
“Bah!”
After
seeing
the
miraculous
staircase,
she
took
the
brochure
Khar
a
o
f
fere
d
wit
h
som
e
hesitatio
n
befor
e
takin
g
a
sea
t
o
n one of the last pews. E
v
entually, she unfolded the kneeler and
lo
w
ere
d
hersel
f
ont
o
it
.
Khar
a
w
atche
d
he
r
tak
e
th
e
cros
s
out
fro
m
underneat
h
he
r
s
w
eate
r
an
d
kis
s
it
.
O
v
e
r
an
d
o
v
er
,
the
same phrase came from her lips, too softly to understand. She carried
on
this
w
ay
for
some
time,
the
expression
of
a
lost
child on
her
face.
A
t
last
she
made
the
sign
of
the
cross
and
tucked the
necklace
back
into
her
s
w
eater.
Rising
stiffly
to
her
feet,
she
w
alked out.

For
some time
after
they
left
the
church, few
words passed bet
w
een them. They
w
alked with no particular destination in mind, knowing that each step brought them closer to a
w
arm room
and
bed.
A
t
a
busy
corner,
the
smells
coming
from
a
café lured them inside.
A
t last, Victoria smiled.

Khar
a
di
d
no
t
remembe
r
whe
n
sh
e
ha
d
eate
n
last
.
Th
e
plates
of
food
floating
on
the
hands
of
quick-moving
w
aitresses
made her
mouth
w
ater
and
her
knees
w
eak.
When
it
w
as
their
turn
t
o
b
e
seated
,
V
ictori
a
ordere
d
plate
s
o
f
blue-cor
n
enchiladas,
roaste
d
squash
,
steamin
g
bo
w
l
s
o
f
beans
,
an
d
lemonade
.
Th
e squash took Khara straight back to Piri’s table, and she pushed food into her mouth until her belly could hold no more.

A young
man approached their
table,
dropping
four small pieces of paper—two red and two turquoise—in the center of the table. “Last chance, ladies,” he told them, though his face
w
as anything but serious.

“Las
t
chanc
e
fo
r
what?
”
V
ictori
a
asked
,
e
y
e
s
narro
w
ed
, a knot surfacing in her jaw.

Th
e
youn
g
man
,
wh
o
ha
d
hai
r
th
e
colo
r
o
f
carrots
,
pulled
u
p
a
chair
.
“I
f
yo
u
don’
t
know
,
yo
u
mus
t
b
e
her
e
fo
r
th
e
eclipse.
They say it’s supposed to be remarkable.”

“Who
says?”
Khara
asked,
trying
not
to
sound
as
interested as she
w
as.

“The
researchers
at
St.
John’s
College
Obser
v
atory.
They’
v
e
e
v
en
put
a
countdown
in
the
local
paper,
and
e
v
eryone’s
been
followin
g
i
t
fo
r
w
eeks
.
Th
e
da
y
afte
r
tomorrow
,
10:4
3
i
n
the
morning.”

The
n
tha
t
i
s
no
t
th
e
reaso
n
fo
r
these?
”
Khar
a
inquired,
holding up the colorful papers he had dropped so casually.

The
young
man
shook
his
head,
a
playful
smile
still
on
his
lips.

V
ictoria
s
w
allo
w
ed
a
mouthful
of
food
and
mumbled,
“
Y
ou
w
ere saying?”

“I ha
v
e your attention?”

“A
t
leas
t
unti
l
desser
t
comes,
”
V
ictori
a
sho
t
back
.
“Last
chance for what?”

H
e
leane
d
acros
s
th
e
table
.
“Why
,
t
o
di
v
es
t
yoursel
f
of
sadness!
W
anna
know
how
it
works?”
His
excitement
w
as
no
doubt
fueled
by
their
blank
stares.
“Write
down
your
saddest
thoughts
.
Se
e
tha
t
bo
w
l
nea
r
th
e
cas
h
register
?
Whe
n
th
e
sun
goes
down,
all
the
papers
will
be
gathered
up
and
taken
down
to Old Fort Marcy
P
ark and placed inside Old Man Gloom.”