Trumps of doom

After several moments, the scene took on depth and color. I sank into the emerging textures, and everything advanced toward me, growing larger, crowding out my immediate surroundings. My gaze sought the wall cloak I remembered; to the right of the bar…

9:48.

I couldn't have cut things much closer.

I could see the patrons now, hear the sounds of their voices. I looked for the best point of arrival. Actually, there was no one at the right end of the bar, near that clock. Okay…

I was there. Trying to look as if - had been, all along. Three of the patrons snapped glances in my direction. I smiled and nodded. Bill had introduced me to one of the men the previous evening. The other I had seen, but not spoken with at that time. Both of them returned my nod, which seemed to satisfy the third that I was real, as he immediately turned his attention back to the woman he was with.

Shortly, the bartender came up to me. He recalled me from last night, also, because he asked whether Bill was around.

I had a beer from him and retired with it to the most secluded table, where I sat and nursed it, my back to the wall, glancing occasionally at the clock, watching the room's two entrances between times. If I tried I could feel Fiona's presence.

Ten o'clock came and went. So did a few patrons, new and old. None of them seemed particularly interested in me, though my own attention was drawn to an unescorted young lady with pale hair and a cameolike profile, which ends the resemblance because cameos don't smile much and she did the second time she glanced at me, right before she looked away. Damn, I thought, why did I have to be wrapped up in a life-and-death situation? Under almost any other circumstances I would have finished the beer, walked over for another, passed a few pleasantries, then asked her whether she'd care to join me. In fact…

I glanced at the clock.

10:20.

How much longer should I give the mystery voice? Should I just assume it had been George Hensen, and that he'd given up on tonight when he'd seen me fade? How much longer might the lady hang around?

I growled softly. Stick to business. I studied the narrowness of her waist, the swell of her hips, the tension of her shoulders…

10:25.

I noticed that my mug was empty. I took it over for a refill. Dutifully, I watched the progress of the mug.

«I saw you sitting there,» I heard her say. «Waiting for someone?»

She smelled strongly of a strange perfume.

«Yes,» I said. «But I'm beginning to think it's too late.»

«I've a similar problem,» she said, and I turned toward her. She was smiling again. «We could wait together,» she concluded.

«Please join me,» I said. «I'd much rather pass the time with you.»

She picked up her drink and followed me back to the table.

«My name's Merle Corey,» I told her, as soon as we were seated:

«I'm Meg Devlin. I haven't seen you around before.» '

«I'm just visiting. You, I take it, are not?»

She shook her head slightly.

«Afraid not. I live in the new apartment complex a couple of miles - up the road.»

I nodded as if I knew where it was located.

«Where are you from?» she wanted to know.

«The center of the universe,» I said, then hastily added, «San Francisco.»

«Oh, I've spent a lot of time there. What do you do?» I resisted a sudden impulse to tell her that I was a sorcerer, and instead described my recent employment at Grand Design. She, I learned in turn, had been a model, a buyer for a large store, and later manager of a boutique. I glanced at the clock.

It was 10:45. She caught the look.

«I think we've both been stood up,» she said.

«Probably,» I agreed, «but we ought to give them till eleven to be decent about it.»

«I suppose.»

«Have you eaten?»

«Earlier.»

«Hungry?»

«Some. Yes. Are you?»

«Uh-huh, and I noticed some people had food in here earlier. I'll check.»

I learned we could get sandwiches, so we got two, with some salad on the side.

«I hope your date didn't include a late supper,» I said suddenly.

«It wasn't mentioned, and I don't care,» she replied, taking a bite.

Eleven o'clock came and went. I'd finished my drink and the food, and I didn't really want another.

«At least the evening wasn't a total loss,» she said, crumpling her napkin and setting it aside.

I watched her eyelashes because it was a pleasant thing to do. She wore very little or very pale makeup. It didn't matter at all. I was about to reach out and cover her hand with my own, but she beat me.

«What were you going to do tonight?» I asked her.

«Oh, dance a bit, have a few drinks, maybe take a walk in the moonlight. Silly things like that.»

«I hear music in the next room. We could stroll on over.»

«Yes, we could,» she said. «Why don't we?»

As we were leaving the bar, I heard Fiona, like a whisper:

«Merlin! If you leave the scene on the Trump you will be out of range to me.»

«Hold on a minute,» I answered.

«What?» Meg asked me.

«Uh - I want to visit the rest room first,» I said.

«Good idea. I'll do the same. Meet you in the hall here in a couple of minutes.»