“I don’t know.”
“I suspect you do.”
“I’m ready for something.”
“You came here intending violence,” Valis said.
Billy raised his hands from the arms of the chair and stared at the latex gloves. He stripped them off.
“Does this feel strange to you, Billy?”
“Totally.”
“Can you imagine what might happen next?”
“Not clearly.”
“Do you care, Billy?”
“Not as much as I thought I would.”
Valis squeezed off a shot. The bullet punched into the broad back of the armchair, two inches from Billy’s shoulder.
Unconsciously, he must have known the shot was coming. He saw in his mind’s eye the raven on the window, the still and silent and watchful raven.
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Then the bang came, and he did not fly or even flinch, but sat in a Zen indifference.
Valis lowered the gun. He settled into an armchair that faced Billy’s. Billy closed his eyes and leaned his head back.
“I could have killed you two ways without leaving the bedroom,” Valis said.
This was surely true. Billy didn’t ask how.
“You must be very tired,” Valis said.
“V.”
“How’s your hand?”
“Okay. Vicodin.”
“And your forehead?”
“Noble.”
Billy wondered if his eyes were moving under his lids, the way Barbara’s sometimes did in her dreams. They felt still.
“I had a third wound planned for you,” Valis said.
“Can it wait until next week?”
“You’re a funny guy, Billy.”
“I don’t feel that funny.”
“Do you feel relieved?”
“Mmmmmm.”
“Are you surprised by that?”
“Yeah.” Billy opened his eyes. “Are you surprised?”
“No,” the artist said. “I saw the potential in you.”
“When?”
“In your short stories. Before I ever met you.” Valis put the revolver on a table beside his chair. “Your potential so explicit on the page. As I researched your life, the potential became clearer.”
“Shooting my parents.”
“Not that so much. The loss of trust.”
“I see.”
“Without trust, there can be no tranquil resting of the mind.”
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“No rest,” Billy said. “No real peace.”
“Without trust, there can be no belief. No belief in kindness. Or integrity. In anything.”
“You have more insight into me than I do.”
“Well, I’m older,” Valis said. “And more experienced.”
“Way more experienced,” Billy said. “How long have you planned this performance? Not just since Monday in the bar.”
