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ood. Just don’t plan on Poetry Hour. She’s in the fog.” “Bad?” “As bad as I’ve seen her. Disconnected. Drifting. Confused.” He took a deep breath and let it out. It was like listening <a href="http://www.redwing-world.com/"><strong>redwing ブーツ</strong></a> to a gust of wind blow through the telephone. “Listen, Edgar, I hate to ask this, but could I leave her with you for awhile? Forty-five minutes, tops. The Baumgartens have been having trouble with the sauna – it’s the damned heater – and the guy coming out to fix it needs to show me a cut-off switch or something. And to sign his work-order, of course.” “Not a problem.” “You’re a prince. I’d kiss you, but for those sore-raddled lips of yours.” “######## you very much, Wireman.” “Yeah, everyone loves me, it’s my curse.” “Pam called me. She talked to my friend Tom Riley.” Considering what the two mbt chapa of them had been up to mbt sale it felt strange to be calling Tom a friend, but what the hell. “I think she took the air out of his suicide plan.” 364 “That’s good. So why do I hear lead in your voice?” “She wanted to know how I knew.” “Not how you knew she was bumping uglies with this guy, but-” “How I diagnosed his suicidal discount mbt trainers depression from fifteen hundred miles away.” “Ah! And what did you say?” “Not having a good lawyer present, I was reduced to the truth.” “And she thought you were un poco loco.” “No, Wireman, she thought I was muy loco.” “Does it matter?” “No. But she’s going to brood about this – believe me when I say Pam’s U.S. Olympic Brooding Team material – and I’m afraid my good deed could explode in my younger daughter’s face.” “Assuming your wife’s looking for someone to blame.” “It’s a safe assumption. <a href="http://www.redwing-world.com/レッドウィング-3168-c-13.html"><strong>レッドウィング3168</strong></a> I know her.” “That would be bad.” “It’d rock Ilse’s world more than it deserves to be rocked. Tom’s been like an uncle to her and Melinda mbt shoes their whole lives.” 365 “Then you’ll have to convince your wife that you really saw what you saw, and your daughter had nothing to do with it.” “How do I do that?” “How about you tell her something about herself you have no way of knowing?” “Wireman, you’re crazy! I can’t just make something like that happen!” “How do you know? I have to get off the phone, amigo – by the sound, Miss Eastlake’s lunch just went on the mbt chapa floor. I’ll see you later? mbt ” “Yeah,” I said. I was about to add goodbye, but he was already gone. I hung up, wondering where I had put Pam’s gardening gloves, the ones that said HANDS OFF. Maybe if I had those, Wireman’s idea might not turn out to be so crazy after all. I looked for them all over the house and came up empty. Maybe I threw them away after making the Friends with Benefits drawing, but I couldn’t remember doing it. I can’t remember now. All I know is that I never saw them again. 366 The room which Wireman and Elizabeth called the China Parlor was filled with a sad, subtropical winterlight that afternoon. The rain was heavier now, drumming against the walls and windows in waves, and a wind had gotten up, clattering through the palms surrounding El Palacio and sending shadows flying across the walls. For the first time since I’d been coming there, I could see no sense to the china figures on the long table; there were no tableaux, only a clutter of people, animals, and buildings. A unicorn and one of the blackface guys lay side by side next to the overturned schoolhouse. If there was mbt footwear a story on the table today, it was a disaster movie. Near the Tara-style mansion <a href="http://www.redwing-world.com/"><strong>レッドウィング靴</strong></a> stood a Sweet Owen cookie-tin. Wireman had explained the routine I should follow if Elizabeth called for it. The lady herself was in her wheelchair, slumped a bit sideways, vacantly overseeing the disheveltry mbt discount on her play-table, which mbt clearance was usually so neatly kept. She was wearing a blue dress that almost matched the enormous blue Chuck Taylors on her feet. Her slump had stretched the boat neck of the dress into a lopsided gawp that revealed an ivory 367 colored slip-strap. I found myself wondering who had dressed her that morning, she or Wireman. She spoke rationally at first, calling me by my correct name and enquiring after my health. She said goodbye to Wireman when he left for the Baumgartens’ and asked him to please wear a hat and take an umbrella. All that was good. But when I brought her her snack from the kitchen fifteen minutes later, there had been a change. She was looking into the corner and I heard her murmur, “Go back, go back, Tessie, you don’t belong here. And make the big boy go away.” Tessie. I knew that name. I used my thinking- sideways technique, looking for associations, and found one: a newspaper headline reading THEY ARE GONE. Tessie had been one of Elizabeth’s twin sisters. Wireman had told me that. I heard him saying The presumption is they drowned, and a chill like a knife slipped into my side. “Bring me that,” she said, pointing to the cookie- tin, and I did. From her pocket she drew a figurine wrapped in a hankie. 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