Page 33 of Soothsayer

“Coffee?” she intoned.

“Yeah, with lots of cream.” She left, and I found the waffles in the menu and pointed them out to Sören. “If you like sweets, these are indulgent. If you don’t, they’re grotesque.”

“Like so many human pastimes,” Sören said. “Do you think I’ll like it?”

I shrugged. “We won’t know until you try it.”

He looked at me curiously. “You seem much better today.”

“I got a little perspective, I guess. A little distance from the stuff that bothered me.”

“And that’s enough for you to let it all go?”

I laughed a little, wondering if my Sören remembered how violent I’d sometimes been during my awful dreams. “No, I don’t tend to let things go. I hold onto them even when I don’t want to, but in this case, it isn’t too hard. I’m trying to win this competition, after all.”

“Very true.” Sören nodded decisively. “Good. Since you’re in the mood to discover things that amuse me, I want to go here.” He handed me a thin pamphlet.

I stared at the roller coaster on the front of it. “Six Flags St. Louis?”

He seemed captivated by the image. “I’ve never been on one of those. I imagine it’s like being in a bolt of lightning.”

“I wouldn’t know.”

“Randall said he thought I would enjoy it.”

“Randall?”

“The child with the game I like.”

How much had Sören gotten done while I’d been sleeping? If I wasn’t careful, I’d wake up tomorrow and he’d be demanding cocaine and a Maserati to sniff it off of. I’d been to a party where that had been a theme once, actually. Fucking Vegas.

“You want to go to an amusement park?”

He tapped the pamphlet. “This one.”

Well, fuck. At least it was on the way. “Um…all right, we can do that.”

Sören beamed at me. “Good!”

Any more revelations were put off by the return of the waitress, who set down two cups of coffee and a little pot of cream and said, “What do you want to eat?”

“A Belgian waffle,” Sören said immediately.

“You want the Slam, or just the waffle?”

“What’s the Slam?”

The Slam was the waffle, butter, syrup, plus two eggs, bacon, and sausages. It was the sort of enormous catch-all breakfast that satisfied when you were getting over a hangover. Sören got all of that, plus whipped cream and strawberries for the waffle. I ordered two eggs, toast, and hash browns. I was hungry, but notthathungry.

The cook must have been bored too, because our breakfast came in less than five minutes. Sören took the first bite slowly, like he wasn’t quite sure what he’d gotten himself into, but then he swallowed and smiled.

“This is delicious!”

“Glad you like it. Get ready to say hello to the wonder of the sugar coma.” I ate my own breakfast as quickly as I could and then got up. “I have a few calls to make. I’ll be right back.” Ididn’t think he even noticed, he was so focused on his waffle. I got change for a five and headed to the payphone.

My first call should have been to Phin, but instead I found myself dialing my mother’s number. She didn’t pick up, of course. I hadn’t expected her to. Instead I got the familiar beep of her voice mail. “Hey. I got your text. I…have no idea if I’m doing this right or not. I didn’t really know what I was getting myself into, starting on this.” I glanced back at the restaurant, where I could see Sören through the glass, plowing through what looked like his second waffle.

“I’m trying to do the right thing.” I paused, fighting to fit the awkward words into my reluctant mouth. “If I can’t, if I completely fail at this, then…I don’t know, maybe you should think about coming back down to the rest of the world?” My mother had plenty of reasons for keeping to herself, but if I was out of the picture, there’d be one less. “Bye.” I hung up and shook my head. Brilliant conversationalist, me. I put in more coins and dialed up Phin.

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