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them a year, then buy them out. Change the name to The Hot Fudge Sundae. Or maybe Marga's
Sandwiches.'
'The Hot Fudge Sundae. Alec, do you really think we can do this?'
I leaned toward her and took her hand. 'I'm sure we can, darling. And without working ourselves to
death, too.' I moved my head. 'That traffic light is staring me right in the eye.'
'I know. I can see it reflected in your eye every time it changes. Want to swap seats? It won't bother
me.'
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'It doesn't bother me. It just has a somewhat hypnotic effect.' I looked down at. the table, looked back
at the light. 'Hey, it's gone out.'
Margrethe twisted her neck to look. 'I don't see it. Where?'
'Uh... pesky thing has disappeared. Looks like.'
I heard a male voice at my elbow. 'What'll it be for you two? Beer or wine; we're not licensed for the
hard stuff.'
I looked around, saw a waiter. 'Where's Tammy?'
'Who's Tammy?'
I took a deep breath, tried to slow my heart, then said, 'Sorry, brother; I shouldn't have come in here. I
find I've left my wallet at home.' I stood up. 'Come, dear.'
Wide-eyed and silent, Margrethe came with me. As we walked out, I looked around, noting changes. I
suppose it was a decent enough place, as beer joints go. But it was not our cheerful ice cream parlor.
And not our world.
Chapter 15
Boast not thyself of tomorrow; for
thou knowest not what a day may bring forth.
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Proverbs 27:1
OUTSIDE, WITHOUT planning it, I headed us toward the Salvation Army mission. Margrethe kept
quiet and held tight to my arm. I should have been frightened; instead I was boiling angry. Presently I
muttered, 'Damn them! Damn them!'
'Damn who, Alec?'
'I don't know. That's the worst of it. Whoever is doing this to us. Your friend Loki, maybe.'
'He is not my friend, any more than Satan is your friend. I dread and fear what Loki is doing to our
world.'
'I'm not afraid, I'm angry. Loki or Satan or whoever, this last is too much. No sense to it. Why couldn't
they wait thirty minutes? That hot fudge sundae was practically under our noses - and they snatched it
away! Marga, that's not right, that's not fair! That's sheer, unadulterated cruelty. Senseless. On a par with
pulling wings off flies. I despise them. Whoever.'
Instead of continuing with useless talk about matters we could not settle, Margrethe said, 'Dear, where
are we going?'
'Eh?' I stopped short. 'Why, to the mission, I suppose.'
'Is this the right way?'
'Why, yes, cert -' I paused to look around. 'I don't know.' I had been walking automatically, my
attention fully on my anger. Now I found that I was unsure of any landmarks. 'I guess I'm lost.'
'I know I am.'
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It took us another half hour to get straightened out. The neighborhood was vaguely familiar but nothing
was quite right. I found the block where Ron's Grill should be, could not find Ron's Grill. Eventually a
policeman directed us to the mission... which was now in a different building. To my surprise, Brother
McCaw was there. But he did not recognize us, and his name was now McNabb. We left, as gracefully
as possible. Not very, that is.
I walked us back the way we had come - slowly, as I wasn't going anywhere. 'Marga, we're right back
where we were three weeks ago. Better shoes, that's all. A pocket full of money - but money we can't
spend, as it is certain to be funny money here... good for a quiet rest behind bars if I tried to pass any of
it.'
'You're probably right, dear one.'
'There is a bank on that corner just ahead. Instead of trying to spend any of it, I could walk in and simply
ask whether or not it was worth anything.'
'There couldn't be any harm in that. Could there?'
'There shouldn't be. But our friend Loki could have another practical joke up his sleeve. Uh, we've got
to know. Here - you take everything but one bill. If they arrest me, you pretend not to know me.'
'No!'
'What do you mean, "No"? There is no point in both of us being in jail.'
She looked stubborn and said nothing. How can you argue with a woman who wont talk? I sighed.
'Look, dear, the only other thing I can think of is to look for another job washing dishes. Maybe Brother
McNabb will let us sleep in the mission tonight.'
'I'll look for a job, too. I can wash dishes. Or cook. Or something.'
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'We'll see. Come inside with me, Marga; we'll go to jail together. But I think I've figured out how to
handle this without going to jail.' I took out one treasury note, crumpled it, and tore one corner. Then we
went into the bank together, me holding it in my hand as if I had just picked it up. I did not go to a teller's
window; instead I went to that railing behind which bark officials sit at their desks.
I leaned on the railing and spoke to the man nearest to it; his desk sign marked him as assistant manager.
'Excuse me, sir! Can you answer a question for me?'
He looked annoyed but his reply did not show it. 'I'll try. What's on your mind?'
'Is this really money? Or is it stage money, or something?'
He looked at it, then looked more closely. 'Interesting. Where did you get this?"
'My wife found it on a sidewalk. Is it money?'
'Of course it's not money. Whoever heard of a twenty-dollar note? Stage money, probably Or an
advertising promotion.'
'Then it's not worth anything?'
'It's worth the paper it's printed on, that's all. I doubt that it could even be called counterfeit, since there
has been no effort to make it look like the real thing. Still, the Treasury inspectors will want to see it.'
'All right. Can you take care of it?'
'Yes. But they'll want to talk to you, I'm sure. Let's get your name and address. And your wife's, of
course, since she found it.'
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'Okay. I want a receipt for it.' I gave our names as 'Mr and Mrs Alexander Hergensheimer' and gave the
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