Radiomen (28 page)

Other than the fact that he was waiting for a West Coast flight, the young man didn’t offer any information about where, exactly, home might be. And I wondered how he managed to travel around with the dog as easily as he seemed to be suggesting, since many international destinations had strict quarantine laws about bringing in pets, even temporarily. Those issues aside, how did he manage to afford his wanderings? Was he a student? A con man? The eccentric heir of a family fortune?

I might have asked, except that my new friend kept chattering on and, meaning to or not, he ended up answering my unspoken question. Sort of, anyway. “Actually,” he said, “I don’t think I’d be able to get anywhere without Dax. I hitchhike wherever I go, but just about nobody will pick up a guy, a traveler, standing alone on the road. Because I have the dog with me, though, they know I’m okay. I mean, bad guys don’t travel around with dogs, right? So Dax is like my ambassador. My intermediary.” He tapped the top of the kennel and the dog responded with a sleepy yip, “Don’t you think dogs do that? Act as a go-between, sometimes. For example, you and I would never have met if Dax hadn’t gone exploring.” He smiled at me, looking as pleased as if, instead of having a passing encounter, we had just made a connection that would last a lifetime. “What’s your name?” he asked.

“Laurie,” I told him.

“Laurie,” he repeated. Still smiling, he added, “And something with a P.”

I nodded. “Perzin,”

“Yup, I knew there was a ‘z’ in there, too.” He laughed. “Well, that’s weird. I mean, I don’t usually get any psychic vibes or anything like that.”

“It happens,” I responded quietly.

“I’m Kelly, by the way.”

He held out his hand and I shook it. Then Kelly stretched himself out on the bench again, replacing his backpack with his jacket, which he balled up to use as a pillow. “I’m going to try to nod off again for a while,” he said, and tapped the kennel again. “We’ve still got a long trip ahead of us,” he said.

“Okay. Good night,” I said. I started to walk away but turned back for a moment, meaning to add something like,
Safe travels
, but he had already closed his eyes. I walked back down the deserted corridor to the bar. The last of the customers were gone and Kim had pulled down the security gate, but I could see her sitting at a table, counting her tips. I called to her, and she let me in through a side door.

“Well?” she said. “Did you do your good deed? Did you find out who the dog belonged to?”

“Yes,” I said. “I did.”

And then I checked my watch. We still had to wait for the night manager to come and count out the register, but I was thinking I might take off a little early tonight and leave Kim to deal with him. It had become apparent to me that there was something else I had to do.

~XV~

“N
ow? You want to come over now?”

“Yes, now.”

“It’s after midnight.”

“You’re up, aren’t you? I can be there by one thirty.”

“So what? Why would I even want to talk to you?”

“We don’t have to talk. I want you to do a reading for me.”

“That’s even more ridiculous.”

“Call Raymond,” I said. “Ask him if you should do it.”

“You want me to wake up Raymond Gilmartin. At this hour.”

“Yes, I do. Tell him it’s about the radiomen. Tell him that you and I are going to talk to them tonight. One of them, anyway.”

It was a tense conversation, but I knew what the outcome would be. I knew it before I had even dialed Ravenette’s number and got her on the phone. She was beyond annoyed, but as soon as the phone call ended I was so sure that she was already dialing Raymond that I didn’t even head in the direction of my regular bus stop but instead exited the terminal and walked toward the far end of the taxi rank, where the gypsy drivers hung around even though they weren’t officially allowed to join the lineup of yellow cabs with city medallions.

As I expected, I was offered a ride. I made a deal with the driver for what I wanted, which was to take me to my apartment, wait a few minutes for me while I went upstairs, and then head directly into the city. I was already in the back seat of the car when my phone played the chiming tones that meant I had a call.

“All right,” Ravenette said, sounding like she had to clench her teeth to get out that one word. “But just because Raymond said so.”

“You can tell him everything that happens.”

“I intend to,” Ravenette said.

“I’m on my way,” I told her and clicked off the phone.

The car pulled up in front of my apartment house in less than half an hour. I jumped out, ran into the building and hurried up the stairs. As soon as I opened the door, I saw Digitaria sitting, as usual, just inside, waiting for me to come home.

He nudged my leg—his usual greeting—and waited to be petted. I gave him a couple of quick pats and then put his leash around his neck. He was expecting a walk, so he waited patiently while I dashed into the bedroom and grabbed the small stash of emergency cash I kept hidden in my bureau drawer. I thought it would be just enough to pay for the ride to Manhattan and, later, get us back home.

I led the dog down the stairs and out the front door, where I loaded him into the car. He didn’t seem at all disturbed by the change in our usual routine and, instead, leaned against me, sitting like another watchful passenger. The car glided down my block and then turned toward Queens Boulevard to join the luminous stream of traffic heading off into the night.

We pulled up to Ravenette’s building just about the time I’d told her I would arrive. I paid the driver and stepped out of the car, pulling Digitaria along with me. Late as it was, there was still plenty of foot traffic around. The restaurants were still busy, the local bars were still open. A young, pretty girl in a silver skirt walked by me and stopped briefly to scratch Digitaria’s ears.

“Cute dog,” she said dreamily, and then walked on.

I rang Ravenette’s bell, and when I got no answer, rang it again. Finally, she buzzed me in.

“Okay,” I said to Digitaria. “Here we go.”

We rode the elevator up to her loft, where she was waiting for me on the same low couch where she had waited the last time I was here. The few lamps that were lit in the huge loft illuminated only the area where she was sitting, so that she seemed to be positioned at the edge of a vast pool of darkness.

She rose when the elevator let us out and said, almost immediately, “The dog?” There was something about the way she blurted that out, some familiarity that made me realize she knew all about the time when the two men had tried to steal Digitaria. Being reminded of the episode was going to make me upset all over again, so I was just going to have to try to get past it.

“There’s a reason you brought him?” Ravenette continued.

“There is,” I told her.

She waited, studying my every move as I led the dog into the circle of light and seated myself on a chair. Digitaria took his place against my leg.

“But you’re not going to tell me.”

“I’m not sure myself about what I’m doing. We’re probably going to find out together. So let’s try, okay? Truce?”

She picked up a cell phone from an end table near the couch and said, “I want to call Raymond again.”

“Why? You’ll have more to tell him after.”

“After what?”

I answered her the best way I knew how. “I told you. I want to talk to the radioman. I know you think he’s an engram but I think he might be . . . well, something else.”

“Oh, so now you suddenly need my help?”

“Will you listen to me, please? The first time we spoke, you told me about a being who looked like a shadow sitting in a room. In a boarding house. You said he was upset, that he was telling me to be quiet but pointing out the window, at the fire escape.”

“That is an image created out of a disturbance in your own mind,” she said impatiently.

“You can go on saying that all you want, but the room was my Uncle Avi’s. And it was me outside on the fire escape. We were listening to satellite signals.”

Maybe Ravenette already knew this part of the story, maybe not. I couldn’t tell by her expression, which remained unfriendly. Nevertheless, I continued.

“I’m not exactly sure how I’m supposed to ask this,” I said, “but can you find him again? The radioman? Or channel him?”

“I’m not a medium,” she said.

I was exasperated by her response. I wasn’t here to debate the fine points of what one kind of paranormal practitioner did as opposed to another. “Fine,” I said. “Whatever it is you do.”

“Whatever I
do
?” she said, sounding deeply affronted. “Are you suggesting that I’m a fake?”

“No. Just the opposite. That’s why I’m here.”

She shot me a suspicious look. “You’re serious.”

“I am.” And then I added, “Please.”

That seemed to help—along with the fact that she was likely under instructions from Raymond Gilmartin to do what I asked. “All right,” Ravenette said, “let’s see if I can find out anything.”

She sat down again and took a moment to calm herself. Then, she fixed her green eyes on me. I thought we were going to have some sort of staring contest but almost immediately, she let out a sudden gasp. “Oh my,” she said. “I see him. In that same room. He’s like a gray shadow sitting on the bed.”

Well, all right. Evidently, it was time to begin. There were things I needed to know.

“Ask him if he’s the one sending me all the dogs.”

For a moment, Ravenette was silent. The strength of her presence in the room seemed to dim; it was almost as if the essence of whoever she was had gone away.

And then, suddenly,
something
returned. A sharp hiss came out of Ravenette’s mouth. It was a threatening, alien sound, high-pitched and raspy that seemed to hang between us in the air, like an invisible snake.

I almost felt afraid to breathe, but when I did, Ravenette was back with me. “That’s his answer,” she managed to tell me, though she was clearly unsettled.

Her voice was trembling and I got the sense that she was in totally new territory. Whatever she actually did as a psychic, whether her “contacts” were real or imagined, what she was experiencing now was something completely new for her, and it was apparent that it was frightening for her. But not for me. For the first time in days—weeks—I suddenly felt focused. I felt like myself, which probably had something to do with my anger flooding back, my one reliable weapon against all attacks. It might go missing from time to time, but it always found its way back to me, or I found it.
So,
I heard myself thinking,
what the hell was this thing hissing at me for? I thought he wanted me here.

It is likely, at that moment and with that thought, I didn’t actually recognize the personal Rubicon I had just crossed: in my mind, whatever that being was in my uncle’s room, he had become real. In what sense
real
I probably couldn’t have said, but it was the right description. And I knew who he was, who he had always been: my radioman. The shadow I had met on the fire escape all those years ago. And that’s why, unlike Ravenette, I wasn’t afraid. Not at all. I had known him too long.

“Well, hiss back at him or something,” I said to Ravenette. “I’m not here because I want to be. I came here because I think he wants something from me, but he’s going to have to give me some help because I don’t know what it is.”

Ravenette gasped again, like someone in the throes of genuine shock. “Laurie,” she said, speaking my name softly, like she was whispering something she didn’t want someone else to hear. Like for the moment, we were on the same side. “We have to be careful, I think. This is different from last time. He’s angry.
Very
angry,” she said.

“I’m a little pissed off myself. You can tell him that.”

“I don’t have to tell him,” Ravenette said. “He can hear what you’re saying.”

“How? How does he hear what I’m saying? Through you?”

“Not exactly.”

“Then what?”

Ravenette opened her mouth as if to speak, then closed it again. She seemed to be struggling, reaching for words. “I don’t know how to explain. I’ve never encountered this before. He’s here. Sort of here. Here, but in a parallel place.”

Well, wherever he was, there was one thing we had in common. One way to bridge the divide—or at least, that was what I hoped.

I looked down at Digitaria, meaning to tap him on the back so he’d stand up, but I didn’t have to. He was already up on all fours, staring straight ahead. He was on high alert, nose twitching, eyes wide.

“I brought a friend of yours,” I said, addressing myself to Ravenette, but not really—that much I knew. Ravenette herself had now closed her eyes. She was so still that she genuinely appeared to be in some kind of altered state.

“You like dogs, don’t you?” I continued. “You brought them here. Something like them, anyway. Right?”

Ravenette grimaced, and once again, that strange, high-pitched hiss emanated from her mouth. She opened her eyes and stared straight into mine as if she were desperately trying to hold onto the reality of me, of the lamp-lit room, the world—this world—itself. “It’s all right,” I whispered. I wasn’t sure if that was true, but I didn’t spend any time wondering about it. Instead, I pushed Digitaria forward, toward the couch where Ravenette was sitting. He took a few tentative steps and cocked his head sideways, a look I knew well. He was thinking about something, trying to figure something out. Then, slowly, he began to wag his tail.

He sat down beside Ravenette and leaned against her leg.

“Okay?” I said. “Better now?”

Ravenette nodded but said nothing. After a few moments, the dog stood up again, shook himself and trotted back to me. He remained watchful, but apparently at ease.

“Where is it?” Ravenette said suddenly.

“What?” I asked.

“The Haverkit. That’s what he wants. He needs. He needs the Haverkit,” she said emphatically. “He says that’s what it was called.”

“The radio? It was stolen.”

“Not the radio!” Ravenette screeched.

“The what? Does he mean the horn of plenty antenna? Does he want that, too? I’ve told everybody who will listen that I don’t have it anymore.”