She sighs and says, “Johnny, the twenty-seven thing is made up. It’s a way to keep you smart ones together and controlled.”
“I still want to go. We’ll go tonight. It’s too bright out now. It hurts my eyes. Come back tonight. When is it dark, Tracy?”
“It gets dark late, honey. And you want it real dark if you go out. Don’t go out before eleven.”
“Come back at eleven,” says Johnny.
“I’ll be here.”
Johnny goes back into his room and for a second I think that Fiona might shoot us on principle. Finally she puts the gun on the kitchen counter. Tracy puts her arm around her.
“Get the fuck out,” she says.
When we get outside, Allegra wants to run but I hold her back. Even with people, running makes you look like prey and we don’t want to look like prey to an angry mom with a .45.
“Now you know some of the kinds of things Eugène and I have seen. What do you think?”
Allegra holds a hand over her mouth. I can feel her trembling under all the shirts and sweaters Vidocq made her wear. Get ready for the waterworks. Get ready for her to puke. This is when it always happens. People get away from danger, start to relax, and it all comes out at once.
“What do you think?”
She lowers her hand.
“That was the most awesome thing ever.”
She grabs me and hugs me as hard as anyone ever has.
“Let’s get home. I want to blow Eugène’s mind.”
We head back to the Boulevard. I scan the backs of stores and sides of apartment buildings for a decent shadow shielded from the street. The sun is so goddamn bright at this time of day it’s bleaching the shadows to frail patches of gray. Those pale shadows are no good to get to the Room, but they’re beautiful. I can see each burning photon and trace it all the way back to where it emerged from the sun.
We could call a cab to get home, but in the morning in this part of Hollywood we could wait an hour. I could steal a car, but that might be one colorful adventure too many for Allegra. I’d rather float home through the sewer on a raft made of medical waste than take the bus.
Fuck it. I turn back and forth looking for a likely car. That draws my attention away from the rest of the street until they’re right on top of us.
I smell them from ten feet away, but am distracted enough to think it’s restaurant trash that’s gone ripe. I know what a complete fucking idiot I am when I hear Allegra give a little yelp.
There’s two Lacunas. A man and a woman, if you can call them that. They’re pretty obviously dead. Their skin looks like bruised sandpaper wrapped around fat and muscle. The male wears a camouflage baseball cap. The female wears wraparound shades. They both have knives and are holding them at Allegra’s throat.
Even with it pressed right up to her carotid, I know I could get the knife away from one of them and pry its skull open with it before it could hurt her. But I’m not sure about two. Especially two somethings that feel no pain, are kind of dumb, and aren’t afraid of ending up any more dead than they already are.
“You going to do something, tough guy? Save the day, cocksucker,” says the female.
“No. I think I’m going to stand right here and admire the view.”
“Good cocksucker. Smart cocksucker. First smart thing you’ve said in a week,” says the male.
“Is that it? Did you come by to hurt my feelings or are muggers getting paid by the word these days?”
The female is next to Allegra, pinning one of her arms to her side while pressing the tip of her knife into her throat. The male holds Allegra from behind. He has his arm wrapped around her neck with the side of his blade ready to slice her jugular. He presses the knife harder against her neck.
“Watch your tone, cocksucker. One of us might twitch.”
“It’s nothing personal. I’m just trying to get the conversation rolling and find out what it is you walking garbage heaps want.”
“We want you to go to Disney World,” says the female.
“It’s called Disneyland, you stupid cunt,” says the male.