“How old am I, Susan?”
“Seventy-four.” Her face showed only love and concern.
“How did Magda die?”
“A brain tumor.”
“Jesus God!”
“Frannie, Floon specifically said to tell you he found Vertue. He has it with him, whatever that means.”
“I know what it means. Let’s go.”
I couldn’t wait to get back to the hotel, but there were no taxis around and my fossil legs could only go so fast. Thirty years after mysteriously disappearing, my best friend turns up in Vienna with a resurrected dog hundreds of years old? Damned right I couldn’t wait to get back. And the way he phrased it: “He had found Vertue” led me to believe there was more here to be reckoned with than just man with old dog.
On seeing the hotel I felt my spirits lift. This was it. I only had to somehow brush Floon off and get George alone in a corner. He would answer my questions. I might even tell him exactly what had happened to bring me here because George would understand. Where had he been for thirty years? What had he been doing? What had made him leave Crane’s View and disappear for eleven thousand days? And had he really found the dog?
These questions and so many others took off and landed in my head as if it were a busy airport. I didn’t know what to ask first. I wanted to know everything at once. There was the hotel.
Walk faster, old man. Somewhere inside was George Dalemwood and the answers. It wouldn’t be long now!
The street was jammed with people so it was not surprising that I did not see him as he approached. Susan had already asked me twice to slow down but I paid no attention. George might even have an idea of how I could save Magda—
“I’m sorry, Mr. McCabe, but you can’t go to the hotel.”
“Astopel! Why are you here?” I looked around to see if Frannie Junior had accompanied him. He was alone, and without any warning so was I with him. Without any warning we were suddenly the only animated objects in a world that had become a still photograph. Somehow Astopel had frozen the world around us, including Susan. She was looking worriedly at me and reaching out a hand.
“You cannot meet George.”
“Why not?”
“Because you must find out the answers for yourself. I told you that before. You can’t just ask another person questions. It must be your doing, Mr. McCabe.”
“You let me burn my brain in that goddamned helmet for no reason at all, but now I can’t ask my friend a few questions?”
“No, you can’t.”
“What if I go anyway?”
“You’ll find this.” He gestured at the frozen world around us.
“Astopel, if I lose my temper at you again, I won’t be able to find it! All I’ve discovered here are dead ends. You said go find the answers in the future. Now I think I have, but you stop me. What am I supposed to do? I’ve only got a week!”
“Five days.”
“Five days, all right. I have five days. Tell me what am I supposed to do?”
“Perhaps it would be better if you went back to your own time. Maybe you could find it there.”
“I want a favor. You have to give me this one favor. I don’t know what the hell else I can do.”
“What is it?”
“Let me see George now. See what he looks like physically. I know that’ll help. Can I? Will you let me?”
“Yes.”
Although surprised at how quickly he acceded to my request, I still made a fist and punched it triumphantly into the air. “Yes! Let’s go.” I started again toward the hotel.
“We don’t need to walk there, Mr. McCabe—unless you want to.”
“Are you kidding? The less I use these bum legs the better.”
“Good.” He looked at the sky. I looked too. Abruptly I was no longer looking at the blue Viennese sky but at a white sconce on a ceiling. My eyes rushed down to find George in this room, wherever that was. I was sure once I saw him—
On a large bed covered with a gold-and-white spread was Old Vertue, alive. No question about it. Like everything else, the dog was frozen—in a sitting position. But its eyes were open and looked alert. I couldn’t help smiling at the old son of a bitch. I had grown even fonder of it after what we’d been through together. Now here it was yet again, brought back this time by my friend. Where had it been all these years? Where had George found it? I felt a great urge to go over and pat its nondead head, but first things first—where was George?
The room was large and elegant, similar to the one Susan and I occupied, only this one was much grander in every way. I walked around looking for any sign of life—a book by the side of the bed, an open suitcase, a wallet or passport on the dresser. But there was nothing—no sign of anyone, much less George Dalemwood. Other than Old Vertue perched on the bed, this room gave the feeling it had been empty a long time. It held the smell of old suitcases and laundered sheets, room freshener was somewhere in there too.
I walked into the bathroom but it felt even emptier. No kit bag sat next to the tub. The water glasses were all unused and turned upside down on the shelf above the sink. No toothbrush / paste laid out, no shaving things all in a row. On a hunch I touched the towels. None was damp. Each was neatly folded and evenly spaced on the stainless steel drying bars.
I lowered the toilet seat lid and sat on it. I put my elbows on my knees and my chin in my palms. For some inexplicable reason my gums began to ache, and I was again reminded of how old and ornery my body was. Looking through the door at the dog on the bed, I tried to figure the whole thing out. On first realizing the room was empty, I thought George must be with Floon. Both were waiting somewhere for us to return. Why then would Astopel bring me here? What was the point if George wasn’t here? My view into the bedroom included Astopel’s foot sliding back and forth over the carpet near the door. He’d been silent since we materialized here but that hadn’t struck me till now. I started touching my singed eyebrows again.
His foot stopped. “Are you ready to go?”
My hand stopped. “What do you mean?”
“Is there anything else you’d like to do here?”
“Yes—see George.” My voice, whining, echoed off the walls.
The pause that followed was a long one. “Could you come in here a moment, Mr. McCabe?” Astopel’s voice was patient and earnest, as if he were a father having to slow down a lesson so that his young child could understand.
“Oh my God!” I said to myself, to the walls, the sink, and the silence of that empty room. The bathroom floor was made up of row after gleaming row of black and white ceramic tiles. They played tricks on your eyes when you stared at them too long. I closed mine and made tight fists in my lap.
What was going on had abruptly come clear to me and now I was stalling for time. I tightened my fists until both arms shook. When I returned to the other room I would confirm what I already knew. The moment that happened, my world would become an entirely different place. Magda’s mother used to say life is short but very wide. For me it had just grown about as wide as this human’s mind could stand. But stand I did and walk out of there because I had to see for myself.
His back to me, Astopel held a gold curtain aside and stared out the window. Over his shoulder, blinding sunlight reflected off the glass facade of a building across the street. The glare made me glance away. I looked at the dog. Mistrust took over and I thought Old Vertue was smiling. At what? Because he was glad to see me? Because of how things had turned out? At the fact I’d finally gotten the point?
“Did you do this?” I asked Astopel’s back. Silently I willed him to turn around and acknowledge me. He didn’t.
“No, Mr. McCabe. I’m only here to show you things, not interfere.”
“It’s George there, isn’t it? That dog is George.”
“That’s right.”
“Can you tell me why?”
“He and Mr. Floon recently collaborated on an experiment with a new drug they invented in one of Floon’s laboratories. You see the results.” He let the curtain drop but did not turn around. “Does that make things any clearer?”