The Wooden Sea (27 page)

"We tried, believe me. But in essence we can only manipulate what already is or was, Mr.

McCabe. For example Antonya Corando was a very good artist who had already begun taking heroin. She would have died within six months. We showed you your future as it would happen if you continued living the way you do. But to be frank, we haven't been able to comprehend a great many things on Earth.

There are huge gaps in our understanding. By interfering in your life, Astopel showed us our limitations."

"So that means you might be wrong with this too--maybe giving me her tumor _won't _work and she'll still die of it."

"Possible but unlikely. I can guarantee that if you were both given CAT scans now, Magda would not have a tumor and you would."

"But you're still not one hundred percent sure of the final outcome?"

"No, and I would be lying to you if I said so. We're still trying to understand how systems work on this planet, but the overriding problem is we simply don't have enough time now to figure them out."

"How did old Floon get back here?"

Barry shrugged. "Astopel fucked up. He sent him and shouldn't have. He thought having him here might spur you on to working faster."

"Floon knew about me and Gee-Gee. Did Astopel tell him that?"

"Yes, and almost as much as you know now."

"Couldn't he cause big trouble, knowing that?"

"Yes, he could."

"Why don't you kill him?"

"We're considering it."

"Should I?"

"I'll let you know what we decide. In the meantime don't worry about it."

"You're sure who you're looking for is in Crane's View?"

"Absolutely. We're sure they're someone you _know."_

Barry told me something else: There was not just one person responsible for mankind's contribution to the World Machine-- there were four. Three had already done their parts. When I asked what they'd made or if I could see it, he reached into his pocket and pulled out _the _feather.

"Son of a bitch! That's why the damned thing kept following me around.

But people don't make feathers--birds do. Find that bird and your problems are solved."

"This feather was man-made. And there's something else." Reaching into the same pocket, he took out the silvery piece of bone I'd found while burying Old Vertue the first time. I looked expectantly at Barry, assuming he had a good punch line to this show and tell.

None came. Instead he held the objects in an open palm and looked at them.

Without thinking, without pausing, connecting or considering or any other goddamned thing I asked, "How do you row a boat across a wooden sea?"

He snapped the fingers of his other hand. The noise was very loud in that small space. It sounded like a tree branch cracking. "Very good, Mr. McCabe, you remembered Antonya's question. _That's _the third part. Now all we have to do is find the fourth."

"How did I know that, Barry? How did I know that question was the third part?"

"Because you've tuned into our frequency. You found our channel."

Smiling, he reached over and began taking Magda's blood pressure again. "Now you'll be able to receive our broadcasts."

"Don't be cutesy. What does it mean?"

"It means you're beginning to understand."

"But what do a feather a bone and that question have in common?"

"Don't know. We're hoping the fourth piece will tell us."

At the hospital both Michael and Isabelle Zakrides were waiting for us. They immediately took over from the paramedics, shooing away even the nurses who came to help. The Zakrideses are old friends and both of them are very good doctors. After I was shot years ago Mike saved my life. Watching him and his wife push Magda's stretcher down the hall, I realized he would take care of me again soon when lights started going out _chez moi. _Before that delightful idea could land and make me miserable I saw something down the hall that caught my attention.

After checking to make sure Magda was all right for the moment, I went down there.

Bill Pegg stood at the other end, listening intently as a short woman doctor with a monk's haircut lectured him. Her pedantic tone of voice set my teeth on edge ten feet away. When I arrived, he put up a hand to stop her.

"Hold it, Doctor. This is Chief of Police McCabe. He'll want to hear all of this."

"What's up, Bill?"

"Chief, this is Doctor Schellberger. Brunhilde Schellberger." He lifted one eyebrow one millimeter but that said it all.

"Hello, Doctor, what's going on?"

"A Caucasian male named John Petangles was brought in half an hour ago with gunshot wounds to the stomach and thigh."

I looked at Bill but heard myself tell Johnny it was all right to follow Caz de Floon only minutes after that shithead shot Gee-Gee and Old Vertue.

"Put out an all points on a white male, around sixty years old wearing a multicolored jogging suit. He's about five-nine, got a big head of white hair, weight ... a hundred and fifty. A little less."

Bill took a notebook out of his pocket and wrote it down but his eyes kept coming up off the page and looking me over. "How do you know this, Chief?"

"Just do it, Bill. How's Johnny?"

"Not good. They're operating on him now."

"Doctor?"

She turned her hand back and forth and again. "We'll know more after the operation."

"Who is this guy, Frannie? How do you know who to look for?"

"I'll tell you later. Right now I've got to find a paramedic here named Barry."

Dr. Schellberger said, "Barry? There's no paramedic at this hospital by that name."

I turned to go. "That doesn't surprise me."

George and Pauline were sitting in the waiting room holding hands.

That picture struck my heart like lightning splitting a tree down the middle.

Two people who mattered so much to me. I would have them for only a few more days and then they would be gone. George gone, Pauline, Magda, Crane's View

... my life. How do you ride the wave of _that _thought into the beach without falling off? Your life will be over in days.

"Is she gonna be all right. Frannie? Is Mom going to be okav?"

"Yes, I think so. I hope so. They said things looked good. But we have to wait till they've finished the tests. Pauline, can you wait here a minute while I talk to George? It'll only take like five minutes."

She grabbed my arm. "Are you not telling me something? Is there something I should know about Mom?"

"No, no, it's nothing like that. Believe me. It's just something I have to tell George--"

"Don't lie to me, Frannie. Please don't. I know that you think I'm a baby--"

"That isn't true, Pauline. Magda's your mother. If I knew something was really wrong with her I wouldn't hide it from you. Why would you think I'd do that?"

"Because you think I'm a child and--"

There was so little time left now that I felt it imperative to get through to Pauline on at least this one thing. Taking hold of both her arms, I pulled her close to me so that we were almost nose to nose. "I don't think that at all.

I'm proud as hell of you and I think you're going to be a contender, like you said you wanted in the garage the other night." That's all I could think of to say but knew I had to say more because it was all breaking up inside me, breaking up and crashing together at the same time. An impossible thing, but there nevertheless.

Life is only contradictions and learning how to adjust to them. I wanted to tell this smart, naive girl to be quiet and listen--I'll tell you some of what I've learned and maybe you can use it. At the same time I wanted to tell her nothing and let her live in her silvery soap bubble of innocence until the very last moment when of course it would pop and she would fall to a much harder earth than she had ever imagined.

"Listen to me--" But then it was her turn to hold me because I completely lost it, couldn't say anything more and started to cry.

"Are you lying to me, Frannie? Is that why you're crying? Are you lying to me about Mom?" Her
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voice was soft and kind as cashmere. It asked its question but reassured at the same time. It held no grudge.

Okay, even if you lied to me about this it's okay. I forgive you and will hold you till you're feeling better. All these new sides of this girl I had never seen before this morning. All of them appearing at once. Sexy Pauline, Flirty Pauline, Forgiving, Understanding... Why hadn't I seen them before? Why hadn't I known her?

"Am I good to you, Pauline? Have I been a good stepfather?"

"Well, yeah. Yes, definitely. Why are you asking? What's the matter?"

"I just want to know. I need to know. Your Mom is okay. I swear they didn't say anything I haven't told you. But this is different: I just want to know if I've been a good guy to you."

She smiled small but warm. "A _very _good guy. The other night when we were sitting in the garage talking I loved you so much. You made me feel like what I was saying wasn't stupid or crazy. You made me feel normal."

We hugged. We hugged and I felt tears on my face and the heat of her thin body in my arms.

"Don't be normal, Pauline. Don't ever try to be normal because it's the first symptom of a terminal disease. As soon as you feel the need to be normal coming on, get the antidote."

"And what _is _the antidote?"

I wanted so badly to come up with a brilliant ripping riposte that she would remember the rest of her life. All I could think of was, "Just make sure that you're living your life, Pauline; don't let normal pretend to be you."

Isabelle Zakrides came over with papers to sign and asked if she could speak with one of us about Magda's condition. With a glance I asked Isabelle if anything was new. Her eyes back said no, this was just a formality. I told her to talk to Pauline and the girl's face showed happy gratitude.

"Will you tell me what's going on with my mom?"

"Sure, Pauline. Let's sit over there and I'll give you the whole scoop."

Standing outside the hospital, I told George what had happened to Johnny Petangles and that I was sure Floon shot him. I also described what had gone on between Barry and me. When I was finished, the blown-fuse look on George's face said it all. "Digesting all this is like eating a whole turkey in a couple of bites, Frannie. It's staggering. What are you going to do now?"

"I was going to look for Barry and ask some questions but he's disappeared. I have a feeling he'll be back when it's necessary. In the meantime I don't want that cocksucker Floon roaming around with a gun. He's already shot two people and a dog and it's not even noon."

"But if you find him what are you going to do then? You only have a few days, Frannie."

"First let me find Floon. The guy's dangerous. Then I'll look for this fourth thing they're so hot to have, whatever the hell _it _is. What else can I do, George? I don't exactly have a lot of options open to me."

A look of deep sadness swept onto his normally impassive face and stayed. He was frightened for me and to my surprise a lot of love was in his look as well. Very quietly he asked, "How can I help?"

"Go back inside and keep an eye on Pauline for me. I can't be worrying about her now. Carry your cell phone so I can reach you when I need to. And answer it for Christ's sake, George.

Don't just let it ring till the battery runs out."

"All right. Where are you goinp now?"

"Home to get a gun and get changed. Then out to find Floon the Flying Dutchman."

We stared at each other and more than a lot passed between us in those silent seconds.

Finally a small guilty grin flickered at the corners of his mouth. He couldn't resist asking,

"Frannie, you really saw the Beatles? What was it like?"

"They were all shorter than I imagined. Even Lennon. I always thought of him as ten feet tall."

The phone was ringing when I got to my house. In the rush to leave for the hospital, we'd forgotten to lock the front door. I walked in and caught the phone on its last ring. But by the time I said hello whoever was gone. Had

Floon done something else in the meantime? God forbid. I thought about that familiar phrase as I walked into our bedroom and started getting dressed How could "God forbid" if He'd been asleep all this time? Or "God damn" or "God save us"? And was He actually unconscious the way we are when we sleep, or did

Barry mean it as some kind of cosmic metaphor?

With a pair of trousers in my hands and one leg up ready to insert, I realized I was staring at our bed. Did God sleep on a mattress? Or use a pillow? How big was His bed? Why was I suddenly smiling? I was going to be dead soon because my poor brain was going to explode. In the meantime I had to catch mad Caz de Floon before he shot someone else, _then _find the fourth whatever so as to save the universe. Why was I smiling?

After slipping on the pants, I straightened up and struck a pure Bruce Lee pose--arms up in inverted "L's" ready to deliver lethal blows. I swatted one out while growling, "Heeee-ya!" in my best Hong Kong karate movie voice.

McCabe, dying Master of the Universe. Because George was right--it was too much to even imagine, much less absorb.

It just seemed logical to do whatever I could and then leave the rest to Barry, his gang and whoever else was out there in the stars.

I didn't have a solution but I had to admire the enormity of the problem.

Where to find Floon? In his situation where would I go? Hmmm? Where _could _I go with no money or identification? I was assuming he arrived here with only the clothes on his back. Plus he had no clue of the specifics of what was going on today. If I were suddenly shot back thirty years with no preparation and no resources to work from, I don't know what I'd do.

He'd said he wanted to "change some things"

which I took to mean take greedy advantage of what he knew about the future to affect his fortunes then, i.e., buy a zillion shares of Microsoft stock the first day it goes public. But how could he do that? Rob a bank to get some startup capital? He had his gun and certainly the balls to do something like that.