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''Yeah. I've been there a couple of times. The French Quarter, shopping at the River Walk." |
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Kazie kept right on eating. Cyrus sensed something was bothering the old man, but decided to wait him out. Kazie brought the beer bottle up to his lips, but never let his eyes stray from Cyrus. After draining the last swallow, the old man set the bottle on the table. "You know anything about magic?" |
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Cyrus's eyebrows shot up to his hairline. The old guy's bombed, he thought. Humor him. "Magic? I watched David Copperfield a couple of times. Does that count?" |
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Kazie made a rude noise with his lips. "TV magic? No, boy." He leaned back against the springy wire back of the chair. "I'm talking Congo magic. Magic black as a pusher's heart." |
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"Let me see your hand," the old man said, holding out his own hand. |
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"Come on, boy. I don't bite." |
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Cyrus couldn't say he cared much for the old man's choice of words, but he placed his handpalm upin the old man's. |
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Kazie brought his face down so close to Cyrus's hand that his nose almost touched. "Like I thought. Smooth as a baby's behind." |
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Cyrus jerked his hand back and his mouth dropped open in slack-jawed amazement. "I'll be damned. You're right! I never noticed that before. |
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"Wait a minute! I had my palm read once and it sure as shit had lines then." Cyrus stared at the hand. "This is too weird. How do you suppose something like this happened?" |
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Kazie got to his feet and went to the refrigerator. He came back to the table with two frosty bottles, set one down in front of Cyrus and took a long pull on the other. Then he reclaimed his chair and asked, "Anything unusual happen to you lately?" |
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"Unusual?" Cyrus did his best to appear cool. |
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