I had the urge to grab the creature by the throat; I had the urge to shake it until it lost its composure and its semblance of deep feeling, but I would not have dreamed of doing so really. I was mesmerized by the eyes and the voice. I was allowing myself to be mesmerized, the way I had allowed those earlier physical sensations of assault to sweep over me. And it occurred to me that I allowed this simply because this being seemed so very fragile and foolish and I was sure of my own strength.
But that was a He. I wanted to do this thing! I wanted to make this switch.
Only after a long while, he broke away, and let his gaze move over the cafe. Was he biding his time What went on inside his clever conniving, and thoroughly concealed soul! A being who could steal bodies! Who could live inside another's flesh.
Slowly, he took a pen from his pocket, tore loose one of the paper napkins, and wrote down the name and address of a bank. He gave this to me and I took it and slipped it into my pocket. I didn't speak.
Before we switch, I'll give you my passport, he said, studying me with every word. The one with the correct face on it, of course. I'll leave you comfortable in my house. I assume you'll have money in your pockets. You always do. You'll find it quite cozy, my house. You'll like Georgetown. His words were like soft fingers tapping the back of my hand, annoying yet vaguely thrilling. It's quite a civilized place, an old place. Of course it is snowing there. Y
ou realize it. It's very cold. If you really don't want to do it in a cold climate-
I don't mind about the snow, I said under my breath.
Yes, of course. Well, I'll be sure to leave you quite a few winter garments, he said in the same conciliatory manner.
None of those details matter, I said. What a fool he was to think that they did. I could feel my heart skipping beats.
Oh, I don't know about that, he said. When you're human you might find that a lot of things matter.
To you, perhaps, I thought. All that matters to me is to be in that body, and to be alive. In my mind's eye, I saw the snow of that last winter in the Auvergne. I saw the sun spilling down on the mountains. . . I saw the little priest from the village church, shivering in the great hall as he complained to me about the wolves coming down into the village at night. Of course I would hunt down the wolves. It was my duty.
I didn't care whether he'd read these thoughts or not.
Ah, but don't you want to taste good food Don't you want to drink good wine What about a woman, or a man, for that matter You'll need money and pleasant accommodations, of course.
I didn't reply. I saw the sun on the snow. I let my eyes move slowly to his face. I thought how curiously graceful he seemed in this new mode of persuasiveness, how very like David, indeed.
He was about to go on with his talk of luxuries when I gestured for silence.
All right, I said. I think you'll see me on Wednesday. Shall we say an hour after dark Oh, and I must warn you. This fortune often million dollars. It will only be available to you for two hours on Friday morning. You'll have to appear in person to claim it. And here I touched his shoulder lightly. This person, of course.
Of course. I'm looking forward to it.
And you'll need a code word to complete the transaction. And you'll only learn the code word from me when you return my body as agreed.
No. No code words. The transfer of funds must be complete and irrevocable before the bank closes on Wednesday afternoon. All I have to do the following Friday is appear before the representative, allow him to take my fingerprint if you insist upon it, and then he will sign the money over to me.
I was quiet, thinking it over.
After all, my handsome friend, he said, what if you don't like your day as a human being What if you don't feel you've gotten your money's worth?
I'll get my money's worth, I whispered, more to myself than to him.
No, he said patiently but insistently. No code words.
I studied him. He smiled at me, and he appeared almost innocent and truly young. Good Lord, it must have meant something to him, this youthful vigor. How could it not have dazzled him, at least for a while In the beginning, perhaps, he must have thought he'd attained everything that he could ever want.
Not by a long shot! he said suddenly, as if he couldn't stop the words from slipping out of his mouth.
I couldn't help but laugh.
Let me tell you a little secret about youth, he said with sudden coldness. Bernard Shaw said it was wasted on the young, you remember that clever overrated little remark?
Yes.
Well, it isn't. The young know how difficult and truly dreadful youth can be. Their youth is wasted on everyone else, that's the horror. The young have no authority, no respect.
You're mad, I said. I don't think you use what you steal very well. How could you not thrill to the sheer stamina Glory in the beauty you see reflected in the eyes of those who look at you everywhere you go?