One afternoon a customer wouldn’t pay her for the ten minutes of sex he’d just had, and when she complained, he slit her throat as neatly as if he were opening a letter.
“How do you know?”
I blinked and realized my mouth was open. I closed it and looked down at her grave. “Because I had one of your dreams last night. I dreamed I met Philip Strayhorn. Do you know who he was?”
“No.”
“He was a well-known actor who killed himself a while ago. We were lovers once for a short time, but that wasn’t what we were about. He was my friend and I admired him.”
“Can you tell me what happened?”
“Come on. Let’s go sit on the wall there. I could tell you the names and histories of every person in here. All their hopes and hatreds; the secrets they thought were so important but weren’t… Not that it matters. Did your person glow?”
We were up on the wall and he turned to me, confused. “Glow? What do you mean?”
“The dead person you talked to in your dream. Who was it?”
“A kid I knew in school. What do you mean, glow?” His voice was testy and suspicious.
“Strayhorn glowed. Not like a lamp, but there was a definite… illumination to him. His whole body.
“I dreamed I was sitting in a steak house I like in New York. Gallagher’s. I was looking at the menu and Phil came in as if we had a date for dinner. We shook hands, and he sat down and asked what was good here. It was all very calm and comfortable.”
“Were you surprised?”
“No. I understood immediately why he was there and what was about to happen, but it didn’t bother me. We both ordered sirloins and mashed potatoes. Dinner with a dead man.”
“What did he say?”
“He asked if I had any questions. I asked why he glowed. He explained it to me and I understood.”
“What?” Jesse’s eyes widened, and, sitting up straight, he pushed himself forward with his hands. “You understood? What did he say?”
“I can’t tell you. You know that. But I did understand.”
“I can tell you anything I heard, Wyatt. I can tell you anything you want to know about my dreams. Ask whatever you want.”
“I can’t. My situation is different from yours.”
“Why? Well, what the hell can you tell me? Did you learn anything that’ll help us?”
“Yes. I understood every answer he gave to my questions.”
“No!”
“Every one. But I was careful. Most of the time we just chatted. I’d ask him something only if I thought I could understand the answer, and it worked.”
“Was he surprised?”
“No, he seemed pleased, even congratulated me once.”
“What can it do for us?”
“It means that for the time being you and McGann will be all right. Nothing more will happen and you will not dream again. Strayhorn specifically said that—you two are okay as long as I continue to understand his answers.”
“Then McGann was right: you are the one who can save us.”
“Save? I don’t know. At least for now. But who knows what will happen next? It reminds me of the Arabian Nights. But instead of having to tell good stories night after night to keep from being killed, I have to understand a dead man’s answers. So far, so good after one night. What’ll happen in the long run? Anyone’s guess.”
“But you’re sure for now that McGann and I will be okay?”
“You will, yes. I don’t know about me. He didn’t say anything about that. Plus, I didn’t ask to be saved—I asked for knowledge. He asked whether I’d rather survive or know? I said, ‘Won’t I be able to protect myself better if I know some things?’ He nodded and, well, that’s when he congratulated me.”
“I don’t understand this. What do you mean, know or be saved? What is there to know? You mean the big questions? That’s stupid! You’ll get all those answers when you die, if there’s anything to know! What’s more important for any of us now than surviving?”
“When I knew I was terminal, I told Sophie the only thing I wanted before I died, if it were somehow possible, was to meet Death and ask Him questions. Phil did that for me. I don’t know if he is Death, but he’s close enough. He obviously speaks for his Boss.” I smiled while Jesse shook his head disgustedly and mimicked the word boss.
“But what does it do for you, Wyatt? Give you the ability to recognize bodies in a graveyard? So what? Does that give you new insight into the way God works? Huh? Is that helpful?”
“It might save your life for now.”
He put a hand on my shoulder. “I know that. Please know I’m grateful. But I’m thinking of you now. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
“Thank you, but it already has—I’ve been dying for a while. That’s a big difference between us.”
“He can stop it!”
I shook my head. “Maybe, but you’ve got to realize that there’s another big difference. You and McGann both have partners who love you very much. You also have Sophie. I don’t. I’m alone and have been dying alone a long time. I don’t love anyone the way you love your wife. I wish I did. That’s the heart of the matter. Since there’s no one to love, I’ve got to love myself the best way I know how.
“Listen, when my father died a few years ago he went out in the worst possible way. No heroics, no last-minute grace. Just pain and suffering all the way down to the end. Worst of all, he made those of us who loved him suffer too.
“One day toward the end, when he was still coherent, I sat with him and said, ‘Dad, even with the agony, you’re still much luckier than most people. Mom and I are here and we love you, there’s enough money in the bank to pay for your care, and you’ve lived a wonderfully long and full life.’ I know it’s easy to say those things when you’re not in another person’s skin, but it was the truth. I really believed that if he could somehow turn his mind’s eye toward that truth, it would be easier for him to let go. You know what he said? ‘Wait’ll you’re where I am, buddy boy; then let’s hear you talk about a good life.’
“Well, here I am, Pop, right behind you on the oblivion express. On my way to knowing exactly what it’s like to be there. But you know what? My opinion hasn’t changed, and I’m dying a lot younger than my father. He had a great life, so he felt cheated by what was happening to him at the end. How dare things go bad! They had a deaclass="underline" he’d live, and life would be good to him. How dare his health fail and all those strengths and fail-safe systems stop? He’d always ignored final things because he had no use for them, and when they started arriving, he only knew how to be bitter and confused. Not me. Not if I can help it.
“If you have someone loving you, then it’s different. That gives you all sorts of real reasons to go on living, but I don’t. I don’t want to die, but when Strayhorn offered the choice between possible understanding and survival, I thought, What’s surviving if you don’t understand anything? Better to know something about it. Isn’t that what religion teaches? Christ was at peace and so were Muhammed and Buddha, the saints… That peace can come only from understanding, not from living another ten years. If I can learn something from these dreams, then I’ll be all right, no matter what happens. Maybe it would be different if I had a great love like you, but I don’t. Whether it’s now or later, I would love to learn enough so that when I saw Death coming, my only reaction would be to say, ‘Okay.’ ”
“No one does that! Forget the saints. No one ever reaches that kind of final peace. It’s not peace when people give up because their bodies are exhausted and anything has to be better than all that fucking pain and fear!”