Cinnamon (Shooting Stars 1)

went to a show off-Broadway, The Fantastics. It was

a very excitingday.

"I thought Daddy had a mad, crazy job. All that

shouting and excitement. I couldn't understand how

anyone kept track of anything or knew what he or she

was doing. Daddy looked like the calmest person

there."

Clarence listened, intrigued. He wasn't in the

city that often, so his eyes were wandering

everywhere, drinking in the activity, the endless flow of people, cars, the billboards and the variety of stores and restaurants. I wondered if your brain could shut down like some overloaded computer, all these sights

and sounds coming at you at once.

"Now what?" he asked.

"There's a coffee shop in his building, in the

lobby. Let's go there."

We went in and were able to get a table close to

the window that looked out at the lobby. Having had

nothing for breakfast. I was hungry and ordered

scrambled eggs and a bagel. Clarence just had some

coffee and watched me eat. I watched the elevators.

There were four, with a constant stream of traffi

c, but

soon it started to taper off. Most people had already

arrived for work.

"What exactly do you think your father's

doing?" Clarence asked as I ate.

"I think he's looking for a new job. That's why

he doesn't tell his secretary exactly where he's going

or where he can be reached or why he didn't answer a

page the other day," Clarence nodded.

"Yeah, that makes sense," he said. "He's