No, something else, the gulls inform me.
Somebody's trying to cut open the steel ball with a blowtorch. That's the sound.
No, not that, chant the gulls. Like a Greek chorus.
It's the phone, I think.
The gulls vanish.
I reach out and grope for the bedside telephone. «Yes?» I hear myself saying. But all I hear is a dial tone.
«The doorbell,» I mumbled.
Gone are the gulls. No one applauds. No «bingo,» no nothing.
I threw on a bathrobe and went to the door. Without asking who it is, I opened up.
My receptionist friend. She slipped inside and shut the door.
The back of my head was numb. Did that ape have to whack me so hard? It feels like there's a dent in my skull.
She noted my bathrobe, and her brows knitted. «Sleeping at three in the afternoon?» she said in disbelief.
«Three in the afternoon?» I repeated. It didn't make much sense even to me. «Why?» I asked myself.
«What time did you get to bed? Really!»
I tried to think. It took real effort. Nothing came.
«It's okay, don't bother,» she said, shaking her head. Then she plopped down on the sofa, adjusted the frame of her glasses, and looked at me straight in the face. «You look terrible.»
«Yeah, I bet I do,» I said.
«You're pale and puffed up. Are you okay? Do you have a fever?»
«I'm okay. I just need some sleep. Don't worry. I'm generally pretty healthy. Are you on break?»
«Yes,» she said. «I wanted to see you. I hope I'm not intruding.»
«Not at all,» I said, sitting down on the bed. «I'm zonked, but no, you're not intruding.»
«You won't try anything funny?»
«I won't try anything funny.»
«Everyone says they won't, but they all do.»
«Maybe everyone does, but I don't,» I said.
She thought it over and tapped her finger on her temple as if to verify the mental results. «Well, I guess probably not. You're kind of different from other people.»
«Anyway, I'm too sleepy right now,» I added.
She stood up and peeled off her light blue blazer, draping it over the back of the chair like the day before. This time, though, she didn't sit next to me. She walked over to the window and stood, gazing out at the sky. Maybe she was surprised to find me in such a haggard state, in only a bathrobe—but you can't have everything. I don't make my living looking great all the time.
«Listen,» I spoke up. «I didn't tell you, but I think we have a few things in common.»
«Oh?» she said without emotion. «For instance?»
«For instance—,» I began, but right then my mental transmission stalled. I couldn't think of a thing. I couldn't get words to come. Maybe it was only a feeling. But if it was a feeling between the two of us, however slight, that at least meant something. No
«I don't know,» I picked up again. «I need to put my thoughts in order. A method to the madness. First organize, then ascertain.»
«Wow, that's really something,» she addressed the windowpane. While her voice didn't she entirely cynical, it didn't quite have the ring of enthusiasm either.
I got into bed, leaned back against the headboard, and observed her. That wrinkle-free white blouse. Navy blue tight skirt. Stockinged legs. Yet, even she was tinged gray, like an old photograph. Actually quite wonderful. I felt like I'd connected to something. Next thing I knew I had an erection. Not bad. Gray sky, exhaustion, hard-on at three in the afternoon.
I continued to watch her. Even when she turned around and saw me looking, I kept looking.
«Why are you staring at me like that?» she demanded. «I'm jealous of your swim club,» I said. She shook her head, then broke into a smile. «You're a strange guy, you know?»
«Not strange,» I said. «Confused. I need to put my thoughts in order.»
She drew close and felt my forehead. «Well, no fever,» she said. «You should get some sleep. Pleasant dreams.»
I wanted her to stay here with me. By my bedside, while I slept. But I knew that was impossible, so I didn't say anything. I watched her put on her light blue blazer and leave. And then the gray gorilla entered the room with his sledgehammer again. «That's okay, I was falling asleep anyway,» I started to tell him. But the words weren't out of my mouth before another blow fell.
«What comes after 25?» somebody asks. «71,» I answer. «He's out,» says the gray gorilla, Surprise, surprise, I thought. Hit me that hard and I'm not going to be in a coma? Darkness overcame me once again.
13
Knots. It was nine P.M. I was eating dinner alone, having awakened from a deep sleep at eight. I got up and was awake, about as abruptly as I'd fallen asleep. There was no middle ground between sleeping and waking. And my head seemed to be back in working order. All postcranial gray gorilla lesions had vanished. I wasn't drowsy or sluggish and I had no shivers. I remembered everything with great clarity. I had an appetite—I was ravenous. So I headed out to the local watering hole I'd gone to the first night and had a few nibbles with drinks. Drinks and grilled fish and simmered vegetables and crab and potatoes. The place was packed, thick with smoke and smells and noise, everybody and his neighbor screaming at each other.
Need to organize, I thought.
Knots? I queried myself in the midst of the chaos. I brought the words softly to my lips: You have but to seek and the Sheep Man shall connect.
Not that I completely understood what that meant. It was a bit too figurative, metaphoric. But maybe it was the sort of thing you
Through that world of the Sheep Man—via his switchboard—all sorts of things were connected. Some connections led to confusion, he'd said. Because I lost track of what I wanted. So were all my ties meaningless?
I drank and stared at the ashtray in front of me.
What had become of Kiki? I'd felt her presence very strongly in dreams. It was she who'd called me here. It was she who needed me. She was the reason I'd come to the Dolphin Hotel. But I had yet to hear her voice. Her message was cut off. As if someone had pulled the plug.
Why was everything so vague?
Perhaps the lines were crossed. I had to get clear what it was she wanted from me. Enlist the help of the Sheep Man and link things up one by one. No matter how out of focus the picture, I had to unravel each strand patiently. Unravel, then bind all together. I had to recover my world.
But where to begin? Not a clue. I was flat against a high wall. Everything was mirror-slick. No place for the hand, no place to reach out and grab. I was at wit's end.
I paid my bill and left. Big flakes of snow tumbled down from the sky. It wasn't really coming down yet, but the sound of the town was different because of the snow. I walked briskly around the block to sober up. Where to begin? Where to go? I didn't know. I was rusting, badly. Alone like this, I would gradually render myself useless. Great, just great. Where to begin? My receptionist friend? She seemed nice. I did like her. I did feel a bond between
