glass.
'So misery loves company,' he said in his best imitation New York accent. 'Maybe we could cheer each other up later, in my room, make a little revenge.'
'Here?'
'Are you kidding? In this flea trap? Not on your life.'
Johnny picked up the blonde's cigarettes, deftly placed his room key under it, and slipped the package and key down the bar.
'The Santa Rita. Room 831. in about half an hour.'
'Sounds good to me,' the blonde said.
Relieved to have scored with so little wasted effort, Johnny got up to leave. 'By the way, do you like champagne?'
The blonde nodded.
'Good. I'll have a bottle on ice by the time you get there.
Don't be late.'
'I won't,' the blonde told him with another brave smile.
'I have a feeling my luck just took a turn for the better.'
When Looks At Nothing left Rita's room, Effie Joaquin expected to take him back to his camp near the outskirts of town. He thanked her for the offer and said he'd find his way alone.
'But it's dark out there,' Effie objected.
The old man smiled. 'Darkness is my friend,' he told her.
Effie considered herself personally responsible for bringing the old man to the hospital. She didn't want anything to happen to him on his way home.
'It's just that other people might not be able to see you,' she snapped impatiently.
'Don't worry,' he said. 'It isn't far.'
Keeping to the shoulder of the road, Looks At Nothing made his way to the gas station. At once a dog began to bark. The old man followed the sound, making the dog bark even louder.
'Who is it?' a woman's voice demanded from inside the house.
'Looks At Nothing,' the medicine man answered. 'I'm looking for Fat Crack.'
'Just a minute,' she said. 'I'll get him.'
Moments later, a door opened. 'What do you want?' Fat Crack asked.
'To speak to you,' Looks At Nothing answered. 'About your aunt. She needs your help.'
'My help? I thought she wanted your help. After all, you're the medicine man.'
Looks At Nothing settled cross-legged on the ground, took a cigarette out of his pouch, lit it, and offered it to Fat Crack. 'Nawoj,' he said.
'Nawoj,' Fat Crack returned, accepting the cigarette gracefully because it would have been rude to do otherwise.
'What's this all about?'
'Sit,' Looks At Nothing ordered. 'We must not rush.'
Reluctantly, Fat Crack did as he was told. Although his heavy body was much younger than the gaunt old medicine man's, it wasn't nearly as agile. Fat Crack was used to chairs. Sitting on the hard ground was uncomfortable.
'You are a man of great faith, are you not?' Looks At Nothing continued.
Fat Crack was taken aback by the directness of the medicine man's question. 'Yes,' he said. 'I suppose so. Why?'
'Your aunt is in grave danger,' Looks At Nothing said.
Fat Crack nodded. 'I know,' he said.
Somehow he had known that from the moment she asked him to go get the medicine man. From the way she acted, he knew there was something more serious at stake than just the physical damage from an automobile accident.
'You are very still,' Looks At Nothing observed.
'I'm thinking,' Fat Crack said. 'I'm wondering what this danger to my aunt could be and why you need my help.'
'Sit here with me for a while,' Looks At Nothing said.
'Smoke with me. The two of us will hold a council and let the sacred tobacco smoke fall upon our words. In this way, we will decide what to do.'
Part of Fat Crack, the Christian Scientist part of him, began to buck and balk. Talk of sacred tobacco smoke didn't sit well with the teachings of Mary Baker Eddy.
Still, the gentle power wielded by the medicine man didn't seem inherently evil.
