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so melancholy that Kyna laid a hand on his arm. ''What is it?" |
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He laughed it off. "Nothing, really. I guess I just feel sorry for him. Dead, God only knows how many years. Stuffed and stuck in here for a bunch of snot-nosed rug rats to shoot paper wads at. I think he deserved better." |
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Kyna took a second to remove her Seattle Seahawks baseball cap and fluff her hair. She looked at him like he'd lost his mind, but let it pass. |
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Once they had completed the rounds of the exhibits, they walked outside, crossed in front of the band shell and entered the Japanese gardens. Kyna ordered tea and biscuits from a pale young Japanese girl in platform sandals, and then they returned to the car. |
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Cyrus said, "If we have time, I'd like to visit this shop Mr. Mabuto told me about." |
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Kyna unlocked the Lincoln and faced him across the roof. "Where?" |
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He fished the piece of paper from his pocket. "Eighteen-fifty San Carlos." |
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Kyna thought for a moment. "That's in the Mission District, isn't it?" |
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"This old black lady Kazie told me about." |
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"Kazie? You two got to be friends awfully fast." |
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"Yeah. You know how it is. After five minutes I felt like we were blood brothers." |
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"Is this it?" Kyna asked as they pulled up at the curb in front of 1850 San Carlos. "You came to get your fortune told?" |
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Cyrus smiled. The dingy glass window had a simple, hand-painted sign: TAROT. |
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"You bet. I want to make sure you're not gonna dump me and run off with some rich diamond merchant." |
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Stepping through the narrow doorway, they were momen- |
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