March 11
The door pushes open gently underneath my hand. Lou stares at me. “Frannie,” he says. “This isn’t a good time.”
“I know, Lou,” I say. “Is Katie still here?”
“Yeah,” he says, “that’s why… maybe if you come back tomorrow…”
“I know what’s going on, Lou,” I say, solemnly. “I can help her.” He opens the door all the way now, and I step into the darkened cafe.
One light is on, in the back, under the oldest tables in the joint. Katie and the generic guy– Ray, his name is Ray– are talking, but there’s something wrong. Katie’s dabbing at her eyes with the edge of her apron now and then, and Ray is…
Ray is fading in and out. Like a movie projector whose bulb is dying. It’s like he’s almost there, but not quite. I stare for a moment or two, silently; the longer it goes on, the less… solid he becomes. Ray has a Steamer on his chest, and it’s almost completely red. He’s being erased from existence.
“Frannie,” Katie says, beckoning me closer. “I want you… you should see… I want you to meet…”
I slowly walk forward and put my hand on Katie’s shoulder. “I know,” I say. “I know, Katie.”
“It’s… it’s not fair,” she sobs. “I thought he was back, thought it was real…”
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