Rapture

Ted sat back in his chair, smiling. "Jeff, Martha and 1, and Callie too, have been telling you for years to take time off from work, to get out and do more for yourself. I think it's great that you're finally starting to take our advice, and what you do is your business. But when you come in here and tell me you're going to hike twenty miles, I simply don't believe it. Your idea of strenuous exercise is lugging the Sunday papers home from the store."

Callie did a good job of restraining her smile. She was enjoying this. A bright, professional woman, she had been with Jeff and Ted from the beginning. Neither of them had ever made a pass at her, a fact she deeply appreciated. She liked both men, and she was proud of the company she had helped them to establish.

"That's true enough," Jeff said. "But, well, I got talked into it by a very nice young woman."

"Ah." Ted nodded approvingly. "She must be pretty special, to get you out on something like that."

"I think she is," Jeff said. "We'll see how far I getuh, no pun intended."

"Where are you going?" Callie asked.

"Somewhere up in Los Padres." Jeff knew he didn't have to be specific. Besides, the national park covered parts of three counties and thousands of square miles.

"You'll come back on crutches," Ted predicted. "But it'll be good for you."

"I just wanted you to know," Jeff said, "so you wouldn't try to reach me next weekend. Nobody will be able to get in touch with me, where I'm going."

Ted shook his head, amused. "Jeff, do me a favor, do Callie, here, a favor, and most of all do yourself a favor. Get lost in the woods with that woman for a month or so. It would be the best thing that could happen to you. And we'll survive here-don't worry about that.'

One base covered, Jeff thought later as he drove toward Los Angeles. He wasn't going directly home after work that evening. He had an appointment. Diane had given him a name of sorts, Knobs, and a telephone number. Diane was the only one Jeff knew who might be able to help. She had refused to act as gobetween, but she did refer him to this other person. Some ridiculous hugger-mugger had ensued, ambiguous phone calls and instructions for him to send a certain kind of photograph of himself to a post-office box in Santa Monica. He had done as he was told, waited a week, and then called again. Everything was set, and now he was on his way to conclude the deal. It was necessary-Jeff had no doubt about that. But the whole procedure seemed juvenile, and in spite of all the money he was carrying and the risk he was taking, he felt silly rather than nervous. Is this what it seems like to everyone who gets involved with illegal goods, he wondered, something of a prank, until the cops take you in? Never mind, he told himself, it'll be over in less than an hour.

Jeff drove into Hollywood. He found the right street and the taco stand just around the corner from Sunset. A small crowd of typical street people were hanging out in front of the place. He pulled over, shifted the car into park, and sat with his signal light blinking. He had decided not to wait more than one minute, but almost at once the passenger door opened, and a large, heavy young man got into the car. One look at the way he filled out his T-shirt ex plained the man's nickname. He had long, wispy sideburns, and his hands were empty, which puzzled Jeff at first.

"Hi, you're a friend of. . ." The man deliberately left the sentence unfinished.

"Diane," Jeff said. "And you're ..."

"Knobs, right," the man replied in a way that discouraged jokes. "Let's go."

Jeff put the car in gear and drove down the street at a moderate speed. Knobs picked up the folded newspaper on the seat and let the envelope in it slip onto his lap. God, Jeff suddenly thought, what's to stop him from jumping out at the next corner and disappearing with my money? But nothing like that happened. Knobs held the envelope on his lap and counted the bills.

"Very good," he said. "Very good."

He crammed the cash into his right front pants pocket and tossed the envelope on the floor-a gesture that annoyed Jeff.

"Turn here and swing back up to Sunset," Knobs said, pointing. He reached behind and fished something out of his back pocket. He slipped it into the newspaper, which he refolded and set down on the car seat. "You're all set, pal. It ain't much, so if you want more, give me a call. You know the drill now."

"Uh, yeah ..."