Misplaced (128 page)

“Who?”

“Old
Man
Gloom.
Zozobra.
When
w
e
set
him
on
fire,
all
the
sad thoughts in Santa Fe will go up in flames.”

He
disappeared
behind
a
swinging
door
at
the
back
of
the
room
.
Khar
a
pu
t
a
han
d
o
n
V
ictoria’
s
ar
m
an
d
brough
t
he
r
head
close
.
“I
t
certainl
y
seem
s
a
worth
y
superstition.
”
Sh
e
lai
d
the
red papers just abo
v
e her companion’s plate.

V
ictoria
put
her
fork
down,
w
alked
to
the
counter
pointed
out
by
the
young
man,
and
returned
with
a
pencil.
“
Y
ou
might
as
w
ell use them all.”

“Something troubles you?”

“Y
ou
’
d
bur
n
you
r
righ
t
ar
m
a
t
th
e
alta
r
i
f
yo
u
though
t
it
woul
d
brin
g
yo
u
luck
.
Y
ou’
v
e
becom
e
som
e
sor
t
o
f
twisted
spiritual
junkie;
you
don’t
care
who
or
what
you
belie
v
e
in
as
lon
g
a
s
yo
u
ca
n
us
e
i
t
t
o
you
r
ad
v
antage
.
It’
s
tota
l
bullshit
,
if
you ask me.”

“Y
o
u
ar
e
mistaken,
”
Khar
a
argued
.
“Religio
n
i
s
m
y
onl
y
lin
k
to
a
life
which
is…what
is
the
term?
Oh
y
es;
extinct.
Still,
I
feel
that
Isis
has
not
abandoned
me.
Often
she
w
alks
in
step
with
Jesus Christ, and sometimes Mohammad joins them.

“Don’t
you
see,
that
I
must
do
e
v
erything
in
my
po
w
er
to
retur
n
t
o
Egypt
?
Besides
,
wh
o
i
s
t
o
kno
w
whic
h
go
d
i
s
greatest?
Ho
w
man
y
mor
e
mus
t
di
e
becaus
e
eac
h
o
f
u
s
belie
v
e
s
our
religion
is
the
only
true
one?
P
erhaps
the
many
gods
are
only
one
,
bu
t
I
fea
r
th
e
ans
w
e
r
i
s
a
thousan
d
time
s
mor
e
elusi
v
e
than
th
e
mysterie
s
o
f
th
e
atom
,
an
d
loo
k
ho
w
lon
g
tha
t
disco
v
ery
took.
What
you
see
as
heresy
is,
in
fact,
desperation.
If
it
means
exposin
g
m
y
sou
l
o
n
a
piec
e
o
f
re
d
paper
,
o
r
prayin
g
t
o
the
patron saint of lost causes, or—”

Oh
,
hell
.
B
e
quie
t
an
d
gi
v
e
m
e
one,
”
V
ictori
a
spat.
Scribblin
g
quickly
,
sh
e
folde
d
th
e
pape
r
i
n
hal
f
an
d
passe
d
it
across the table. “
Y
our turn.”

Chapte
r
Forty-six
Kha
r
a

Nightfal
l
arri
v
ed
,
bringin
g a
mischie
f
tha
t
seeme
d
to infec
t
e
v
e
n
th
e
mos
t
virtuou
s
o
f
Sant
a
Fe’
s
citizens
.
V
ictoria an
d
Khar
a
lingere
d
insid
e
Caf
é
P
asquals
,
intimidate
d
b
y
the
noisy
crowd
that
w
as
quickly
filling
the
streets
with
sounds
of sacrilege and the smell of beer.

“It’s only going to get worse out there,
w
e should get to the
hotel,
”
V
ictori
a
warned
,
whe
n
a
t
last
,
sh
e
pushe
d
ope
n
th
e
door.

“But
the
entire
city
has
turned
out
to
w
atch
Zozobra
burn.
Wh
y
no
t
subjec
t
oursel
v
e
s
t
o
on
e
las
t
exercis
e
i
n
mindles
s superstition?”

“They won’t hold our room past nine.”

“W
e
’
ll
be
back
long
before
then;
I
’
ll
make
sure
of
it,”
Khara
promised,
checking
her
w
atch.
“Besides,
I’
v
e
ne
v
er
seen
a
fifty—
foot marionette.
Ha
v
e you?”

“It would be a first.”

A
t
th
e
park
,
th
e
m
u
s
i
c
w
a
s
r
o
arin
g
s
o
l
o
u
d
l
y
tha
t
Kh
a
r
a
fel
t
it
pounding
in
her
chest.
She
would
ha
v
e
co
v
ered
her
ears
except
that
no
one
else
had,
and
she
didn’t
w
ant
to
look
conspicuous.
Someon
e
hande
d
V
ictori
a
a
bee
r
whic
h
sh
e
draine
d
quickly,
follo
w
ed by another. Her worried look began to fade.

W
it
h
sate
d
appetite
s
an
d
lightene
d
spirits
,
the
y
stood
w
aitin
g
t
o
se
e
Ol
d
Ma
n
Gloo
m
burn
.
“Zozobra,
”
Khar
a
had
learned
,
mean
t
“anxiety,
”
whic
h
w
a
s
exactl
y
wha
t
sh
e
fel
t
as
sh
e
w
atche
d
hi
m
shrie
k
an
d
moa
n
an
d
w
a
v
e
hi
s
arm
s
fro
m
side
to side.

Dancer
s
dresse
d
lik
e
y
ello
w
an
d
re
d
f
lame
s
w
a
v
e
d
lon
g
torche
s
an
d
darte
d
mischievousl
y
bet
w
ee
n
hi
s
legs
.
He
shouted
down
at
them
and
they
ran
off,
but
returned
quickly
an
d
bega
n
h
i
s
t
o
r
m
en
t
a
l
l
o
v
e
r
a
g
a
in
.
W
he
n
ther
e
ha
d
bee
n
enough
theatrics
and
the
crowd
had
drowned
out
his
cries,
the
dancers
set
fire to
his
legs.
A
fresh
w
a
v
e
of
merriment
erupted
as Zozobra’ s screams filled
the night.

S
o
thi
s
i
s
ho
w
i
t
feel
s
t
o
b
e
a
par
t
o
f
a
crowd
,
sh
e
thought.
Khara
felt
the
shackles
of
her
upbringing
loosen. Her
hip
s
bega
n
t
o
s
w
ay
.
In
th
e
poundin
g
beat
,
sh
e
becam
e
someon
e
else
;
a
woma
n
who
could
choose
whether
or
not
to
marry,
to
arise
each
morning
at whate
v
er
hour
pleased
her;
a
woman
who
could
lounge
in
the pri
v
acy
of
her
own
home without
attendants,
or
officials,
or
the needs of an entire nation.

In
the
midst
of
her
thoughts,
V
ictoria
took
her
hand.
Hips
b
umping
,
hand
s
i
n
t
h
e
air
,
laughin
g
an
d
sin
g
in
g
together—
Khara had ne
v
er felt anything like it.

“Samba,”
V
ictoria told her dreamily.

“Show me.”
Sh
e
ha
d
ne
v
e
r
fel
t
s
o
invisibl
e
i
n
he
r
life
.
He
r
bod
y
mo
v
e
d
in
rhythm with
V
ictoria’s while explosions of gold and blue filled
th
e
night
,
an
d
stranger
s
hugge
d
eac
h
othe
r
i
n
a
n
unbridled
merriment she would ne
v
er know again.

A
nd
then,
in
s
p
i
te
o
f
e
v
erything
a
ro
und
h
er,
a
tingling
c
r
e
pt
up
the
base
of
her
skull.
It
su
b
sided
quickly,
but
returned—a
singularl
y
disturbin
g
sensatio
n
sh
e
likene
d
t
o
th
e
his
s
o
f
a
n
asp.
Scanning
the
multitude
of
figures
illuminated
only
by
the
tiny
light
s
w
avin
g
i
n
tim
e
wit
h
th
e
music
,
sh
e
looke
d
t
o
th
e
right
an
d
sa
w
nothin
g
unusual
;
bu
t
whe
n
sh
e
looke
d
o
v
e
r
he
r
left
shoulder,
she
w
atched
as
he
cut
a
s
w
ath
through
the
crowd,
his
malevolen
t
expressio
n
spreadin
g
a
chil
l
throug
h
her
chest.
S
he
c
ried
o
ut,
and
V
i
c
t
o
ria
put
her
h
a
nd
to
her
ear.