The Stranger's Woes (86 page)

I didn’t get to sleep until morning, and that in itself was a miracle. I think I fell into a dead faint that just faded into something resembling sleep. At noon, I was woken up by Sir Juffin Hully’s call. Talk about déjà vu.

Get up
,
wash up
,
and come here right away
.
But don’t bother looking for me at the Ministry
.

Why do you think I would look for you there? You’re on the Street of Old Coins
,
of course
.

How insightful
.
What’s with the attitude? Did you not get enough sleep again?

Can I ever get enough sleep with you guys around?
I suppressed a yawn and stretched my arm out to grab the bottle of Elixir of Kaxar.
Okay
.
I’ll be there in an hour
.

Half an hour
.
I know how fast you can drive if you want to
.

“Sinning Magicians,” I said out loud, crawling out of bed. “Now that’s what I call tyranny in its most vile form. Roman emperors couldn’t even dream of this. Speaking of Roman emperors, it may very well be that Juffin has already watched
Caligula
. Now he’ll have a whole new repertoire of ways to torment his subordinates. I hope I’ll just be executed, quickly and painlessly, as an act of mercy to an old friend.”

“Who are you talking to, Max?” said Tekki.

She brought a jug of kamra and my clothes to the bedroom. She had never spoiled me like that before.

“What have I done to deserve this?” I said.

“I have a few customers downstairs, and I don’t want you to scare them all off. Sir Juffin just sent me a call and warned me that something terrible was about to happen because he’d just woken you up.”

“So, he’s been concocting a terrible conspiracy behind my back,” I said. “You know what? Close down your place and come with me.”

“What about the customers?”

“Customers, schmustomers. Decent people don’t go to places like yours this early in the morning,” I said. “Come on. You’re going to love it.”

She didn’t object. Now
that
was a miracle.

“Have you vowed never to let her out of your sight again? Did you put a spell on the poor girl, you monster?” said Juffin.

It seemed he hadn’t gotten any sleep, but he looked quite alert. Sir Kofa Yox was dozing next to him. On the TV screen I saw the face of Special Agent Dale Cooper, the character who had once “seen me off” on my trip to Green Street. Juffin had entered the
Twin Peaks
phase. I knew that he was going to spend a long, long time in my bedroom.

“I’m afraid that now Tekki will want to stay here, too,” I said. “Here’s a fellow victim for you.”

“What is this, Max?” said Tekki, squeezing my elbow.

“This is the biggest miracle I can conjure. And no Forbidden Magic, mind you,” I said.

“You don’t say,” said Juffin. “The indicator goes well beyond ten. It’s okay, though. It’s not going to destroy the World. Max, I called you to say that—”

“Let me guess,” I said. “You remembered that you hadn’t taken a vacation in a long while, right?”

“Very insightful. Yes, I think I deserve a little vacation,” Juffin said. “All the more so because last time you made a pretty good deputy.”

“Don’t suck up to me,” I said. “I knew this would happen. I’m willing to bet that I’m going to be giving orders to my reflection in the mirror because the entire Minor Secret Investigative Force will end up in this bedroom sooner or later. Fine, it’s a deal. But my girlfriend gets to sit in the front row. I’m off to plant my backside in your armchair.”

“Excellent,” said Juffin. “Oh, don’t forget to go down and admire the spectacle of the vestiges of the ancient Order of the Long Path saying goodbye to the streets and squares of Echo. If they refuse to leave, deal with them like the fat lady usually deals with the poor cat Tom at the end of every episode.”

“Can do,” I said, turning around to leave.

“Hold on, Max. Look what we can do now.”

Juffin produced a huge cartoonish hammer out of thin air and immediately smashed it against Kofa’s head. Kofa, who had been snoozing, woke up. His head vanished completely in between his shoulders, and his headless body began to hop around the room. Tekki squeezed my elbow even harder. I didn’t blame her. I felt like squeezing somebody’s elbow myself, for moral support.

Juffin was laughing so hard that some of the tapes fell off the shelves.

“And that’s just the beginning,” he said. “You can’t imagine how much practical wisdom I have gained from watching those didactic animal stories.”

“Max, I’m staying,” said Tekki. “I simply must know what has driven these respectable gentlemen to the brink of insanity.”

“I hope you’ll manage to stay sane yourself until evening,” I said. “Speaking of the evening, Kofa, could you find it in your merciful heart to sit in for me tonight? Just a couple of hours, maybe?”

“But you can just sleep in the armchair, son,” Kofa said, surprised. “It’s much more convenient. Just think, why would you want to go back and forth between the Old City and the New?”

The next dozen days passed almost exactly as I had expected. Sir Juffin Hully never showed up at the House by the Bridge. My other coworkers spent most of their time on the Street of Old Coins. The unbending Lonli-Lokli and I pulled our own and everyone else’s weight. Lonli-Lokli’s sense of duty outweighed his curiosity. Besides, Shurf realized that the wondrous spectacle was not going to disappear, and measured doses are a tried-and-true way of extending pleasure. The other members of the “Order of the Silver Screen” exercised no self-control whatsoever. Even Tekki at some point decided to ask one of her neighbors to work in the tavern. As though she wasn’t the one who had come up with a dozen excuses when I suggested that she hire an apprentice so that her business wouldn’t interfere with our regular nightly walks. And it hadn’t been all that long ago.

Finally, life got back on track. At any given time you could still see one or another of the Secret Investigators in my old bedroom on the Street of Old Coins, staring at the TV screen. Lonli-Lokli was the only one who had devised a schedule for himself and followed it rigorously. He watched one movie, picked at random, every three days. No more, no less. The others admired the steely self-restraint of our professional killer, held him up as an example, but secretly felt sorry for him.

Nevertheless, the days of understaffing eventually passed, and Sir Juffin Hully granted me not one but three Days of Freedom from Care. I spent them in the most wonderful way possible: I went over to Tekki’s place and finally got as much sleep as I wanted. It wasn’t difficult to do because the lady of my heart still spent her evenings on the Street of Old Coins, watching rapturously as the ghostly events unfolded in the depths of the screen.

On the evening of the third day, I woke up right after sunset and went down to scare the customers of the
Armstrong & Ella
with my grumpy face. I had no other plans for the night.

A surprise was waiting for me downstairs. Even two surprises. Surprise number one was Tekki, who was standing behind the bar. She was here and not “at the movies,” where I had planned to pick her up (bodily, if necessary) and take her out to breathe some fresh autumn air. Surprise number two was Sir Juffin Hully himself, sitting on the barstool. There were no other customers in the tavern—not too many Echoers were eager to spend an evening in the company of Sir Venerable Head.

“Don’t tell me you missed me,” I said. “Something happened, right?”

“Nothing to write home about,” said Juffin.

Tekki threw me a conspiratorial glance and set several little glasses with drinks and a large empty mug in front of Juffin. He nodded and carefully poured the contents of the glasses into the mug. Then he snapped his fingers a few times above the mix. A red flame flared up above the liquid. Juffin swallowed the flame with unconcealed delight. Two streaks of steam came out of his ears, and his turban began jumping up and down on his head like the lid on a kettle of boiling water.

“Impressive, isn’t it?” he said.

“I see,” I said. “You’ve gone gaga over cartoons.”

“In my opinion, they are much more realistic than the movies, which depict so-called real people. In any case, I seem to keep picking out movies with the silliest, most improbable stories. Maybe I’m just unlucky. There are these strange fellows who try to travel to other planets in huge, bulky contraptions—what do they call them?”

“Spaceships?” I said, chuckling.

“That’s right. Any child would know it’s much easier to use the Corridor between Worlds for that, if they’re really so eager to leave their planet. Then yesterday I watched a tragic love story about a nice but emotionally disturbed man, also named Max, by the way. First he was either a policeman or a prisoner possessing some secret power—I didn’t quite catch that. Then he found himself an easy night job. I still don’t understand why he and his lady kept trying to scratch themselves with sharp objects. Although they both looked quite happy. To tell you the truth, I don’t find it strange in the least that they were shot in the end. The circumstances of their lives reeked of some botched Forbidden Magic.”

Listening to Juffin’s synopsis of
The Night Porter
, I was on the verge of fainting. Tekki had to give me a glass of cold water, and I swear I wasn’t pretending. Well, almost.

“Juffin,” I said when I was able to control my tongue again, “you’d make the best movie critic of all times. If you’re interested, I can organize the publication of your reviews in some popular magazine. You’ll become a cult figure back in my homeland. Still, what happened, and why are you here?”