The Stranger - Max Frei [287]
“You mean I can come back here?”
“Whenever you wish. Come back, and then leave again. I don’t think you’ll have any time for pleasure trips in the near future, but, who knows what you’ll do? Oh, and keep in mind that someone can pass through with you—but not just anyone, so don’t take any foolish risks. Make sure you think it through, first. And don’t even think of trying to get into the business of being a Caravan Leader. Don’t take the bread out of the mouths of my countrymen. Got it?”
I smiled and swiftly tapped my nose with the forefinger of my right hand twice. Sir Mackie smiled, too, under his reddish mustache, then left.
The door creaked loudly, then slammed shut, and I was alone. I hid the green stone in my pocket. How am I going to keep from losing it? I wondered. Would I have to have a ring made from it? I don’t like wearing hardware—but maybe it was the only way. I looked out the window. The multihued spray of the fountain was sparkling in the sun. The street was empty. Mackie had most likely already turned the corner, out of sight.
Right, as though he had had time! Stop fooling yourself, Max, I told myself wearily. I got up from the comfortable chair and went into the next room, where Lonli-Lokli was no doubt lolling about, bored as could be.
Shurf had, indeed, already settled down at a table by the window. He was studying the menu, so I stole up to him unnoticed.
“Where did you come from, Max? Have you already found your way to the kitchen?”
“Why would I want to visit the kitchen? I was just sitting in the room next door.”
“What room next door? Max, are you sure this tavern has more than one dining room?”
“I just came from there.” I turned back toward the door, of which not the slightest trace remained, of course. “Oh, Shurf, more local exotica! Kettarians are very eccentric folk, don’t you think? Let’s just eat, how about it? A hole in the heavens above this wondrous town, it seems I really am a fervent patriot. I can’t wait to get back to our Echo. And we can start our journey this very minute. Does that appeal to you?”
“Of course it does, Max. We can leave without the caravan, if I understand correctly?”
“Precisely. No caravan and no stops, since I’ll be sitting behind the levers of the amobiler. You don’t object to speed, do you Shurf? We’ll set a record and go down in history in one of the simpler and more reliable ways. Listen, you must buy some Kettarian carpets to take home with you. That’s why we came, isn’t it?”
“Yes. I was intending to. But are you going to be at the levers the whole way back?”
“You can’t even imagine how fast we’ll get home,” I said dreamily. “After you explained the principle of operation of the amobiler . . . You know, I think that until now I drove so slowly because deep down I was sure the old jalopy couldn’t move any faster.”
“Slowly?” Lonli-Lokli asked incredulously. “Well, I guess in that case we’ll be home in no time at all.”
When we had finished our meal and gone outside, I turned the corner and headed for the rainbow-hued fountain.
“I always went though that wooden door, Shurf,” I told him.
“Of course you did, Max. I don’t doubt it. But it’s not a real door. Just a stage prop.”
“As Sir Lookfi Pence likes to say, ‘People are so absent-minded!’” I sighed. “But what am I supposed to do, one might ask? Should I be surprised? No—I’m through with surprises for now.”
We spent the rest of the day like real tourists. Shurf did, if fact, set out to buy carpets, and I tagged along to keep him company. As it happened, I couldn’t resist the dark and silky nap of one enormous rug. It would match the fur of my cats perfectly. I was most likely the first customer who had ever bought a rug to go with his cats.
We loaded the rugs into the amobiler and went home to pack. Lonli-Lokli only needed about ten seconds to