“Order anything you want,” I said to Aster while skimming the chalk menu myself and browsing the day’s specials.
I’m not hungry.I’m set up to write now, and I can’t think of much else,he said.
“Then think of it.But tell me about it too.”
I can’t.There are too many eyes on us.Too many people.
I counted heads and came to the number six.“No, there aren’t.”
But I can’t bear to see them all.They disprove my favorite illusion.
“What illusion is that?”
The illusion that you and I are the only two living people in the world.
I looked at him in surprise.I pictured it for a moment as he did, the pair of us alone on the coast needing nothing but each other to live.The thought made me queasy.“We were never the only people in the world.”
He drew a breath.How about you order something for yourself, then?I’ll pass.The food we have back at the house is better, anyway.
I turned to the person working behind the counter, a girl my age with thick dark hair and a square jaw.She had been watching us for a few seconds, and without deliberating further I ordered a white chocolate cappuccino and checked with Aster to make sure he didn’t want anything.Then I ordered a pair of chocolate-filled croissants for both of us and waited while the barista put the order through.
“So, if you’re going to go on and write that book for now,” I asked, “then what do I do?”
Stay around.Keep my feet tethered to the ground.
“But this is my residency, and I’m the one who needs to write.Does your book count as mine?”
Why wouldn’t it?No one would know the difference.
“Because there’s no pride in it if I didn’t write it,” I said.“And I can’t celebrate a victory I didn’t win.”
But Aster wasn’t looking at me.His eyes darted around us, and a shadow covered his expression of concern, even fear.
The barista placed my cappuccino on the counter, where I picked it up.When I turned around, I found that an expression of concern had masked Aster’s face.He didn’t look at me but around me, and his eyes flicked around the room like he was following something else.
“Come on,” I said.“Let’s sit down.And I insist you try a croissant.”
I extended a hand to him, and he took it numbly, walking after me like a blind man trusting a guide.Something had changed.Aster could see into reality on a level that I couldn’t, and whatever he saw now put him on edge.
After a pause, he sat across from me.We picked a high table, a small one with two tall wooden stools on either side.Mine wobbled when I sat down, so I leaned back to lock it more easily in place.
“Is everything all right?”I asked, giving him a croissant.
He took it, and he set it down without taking a bite.I’m not sure.
“Not sure?What happened?”I had already felt chilly in this room, but now the cold became conspicuous.I glanced out the window to the shop outside and saw a row of colorful scarves on a rack on the sidewalk for ten dollars apiece.
I’m being pursued.
The single instance of the word “pursued” would have caused me to spill my coffee, if my cup were still in my hand.I shivered and tried to imagine what my muse could be getting at.“Pursued?Why?By what?”
They’re here.Or they were here.Though they seem to have gone now.He glanced around to make sure we were alone.
“Who is it?”
They’re people,he said in a hushed voice, steepling his hands over the table.People, or shadows of people.They see everything.They know all about us muses, and… they’re the ones who make the calls about things.They’re not happy with what they see.
I turned my head to make sure I didn’t see anything out of the ordinary.A trio of teen girls enjoying their summer vacation entered and started their orders, but no one else was in earshot.“You never told me about these people before,” I said.
