Aloha from Hell (Sandman Slim 3)

“Okay.”

Some kind of magic being, a stand-in for the caterpillar, I think, is hitting on Alice.

“You know I’m in bed with another woman, right?”

“It’d be pretty creepy if you were in bed with me, Ed Gein.”

“It’s okay with you?”

“I thought we went through this when you fucked Brigitte. Get on with your life.”

“It’s more like she fucked me. I was pretty much just an innocent bystander.”

“Every guy tries that line at least once. It never works.”

“Why did you pick that particular song?”

“Who says I picked it? Who says it’s about me?”

Alice takes the cigarette from my hand, finishes it, and stubs it out on the sole of her shoe. She nods at the TV, where a barely dressed female Jabberwock is flying Alice across Wonderland.

“If you dream about me again, dream me like that hee like Alice. She gets to fly around, have adventures, and isn’t stuck in this fucking apartment forever.”

“I’ll work on it.”

“Do that. You know I’d look good as an anime schoolgirl. I love you, but I’m over your moony guilt trip. Dream about that girl you’re lying next to for a change.”

She kisses me on the cheek, gets up, and walks away.

“See you around, Miyuki-chan.”

“Later, alligator.”

I wake up and take my arm from around Candy. I’m sweating. I go to the bathroom, run some water on my face, and wipe myself down on one of the hotel’s rough white towels. I find my phone and check the time. Still early enough to get some sleep. I sit on the edge of the bed, letting my head clear. In a little while I lie down and put my arm back around Candy. She moves back against me.

Yeah, I could get used to this.

I WAKE UP around one and start putting my clothes on. Candy hears me and turns over.

“What’s up?”

“I’m going to a zombie industrial club to track down a drug dealer. What are you doing?”

She throws off the covers and starts looking around for her clothes.

“No way I’m letting you tough-guy-solo it and hog all the fun.”

“Then shake a leg, Modesty Blaise.”

I KIND OF regret having ditched the Volvo in the afternoon. I have a bad feeling about where all this drugs-and-demon bullshit is heading, especially after talking to Alice. Or talking to myself. Or talking to some combination of Alice and my subconscious. I don’t hate the dull anonymity of the car or, when I’m being honest with myself, the last month and a half of quiet. Things are changing and they’re going to change faster. You’ll be able to boogie-board on all the blood that’s coming.

Tonight, though, the universe throws me a bone.

A BIKE RIDE is what I need to blow out the dust and clear my head, and what do you know? Someone’s left a red Ducati Monster in the street just for me. Every day is Christmas if you know how to get around locks.

I look at Candy.

“You okay riding without a helmet?”