To The Stars

“No. Get thee behind me, Satan.” The girl vanished. Jan’s wife was light-years away, yet she was very close still in his emotions. He finished soaping and washing and when he stepped out of the tub the water vanished behind him in a single mighty insufflation.

When he had arrived the day before no eyebrows had been raised nor any attention paid to his sleazy clothes or lack of luggage. Not when he was occupying one of the best suites in the hotel. But he would need clothes; that was the first order of business. He dressed quickly and kicked into the sandals. There was a safe set into the wall of the sitting room and he put Thurgood-Smythe’s envelope in it, keying in a new combination so that only he could open it. With his ID card in his shirt pocket he would have everything he needed. He patted the card and went out.

The lobby of the hotel was filled with elegantly dressed guests, mostly women, who were strolling toward the doors leading to a fashion show. Jan felt decidedly scruffy as he pushed through them and out into the soggy heat of the day; When he had arrived the previous evening he had noticed that there were a number of shops along Lexington Avenue. Clothes, shoes, luggage — there was everything here that he might need.

Though some vehicles passed there seemed to be few pedestrians. None at all he realized, just as a policeman stepped out of a doorway and stopped him by pushing his nightstick hard into Jan’s chest.

“All right, stupid. You want trouble, you got trouble.”

Jan’s temper flared; he had seen enough of the police in the last twenty-four hours.

“I’m afraid that you are the one who is in trouble, officer.” He took out his ID. “You will look at this and then you will apologize for your brutal manner.”

The policeman let the stick drop slowly. Jan’s refined accent and manner did not match his clothing. When he saw the Security symbol next to the three-digit number indicating Jan’s rank he actually began to tremble. He saluted and Jan felt ashamed of himself for bullying the man with his newly-attained rank and position. His actions, in essence, were really the same as those of the police officers who had raided New Watts.

“I didn’t know, I’m sorry, but the things you’re wearing…”

“I understand,” Jan said, putting the card back into his pocket “It was an emergency. I’m going to buy new clothes now.”

“I’ll show you, sir, just follow me. I’ll wait to take you back. You don’t want to be on the streets today.”

“Is there an alert?”

“No. But people know. The word goes around. We shot the two guys what burned down the armory. Both white. What the fuck did they think they was doing? In here. Best place on Lexington. I’ll be outside.” He hammered loudly on the sealed door with his nightstick and it was quickly unlocked. “Take good care of this gentleman,” he told the wide-eyed clerk, spinning the stick swiftly on the end of its thong.

It was a gentlemen’s outfitters, very exclusive, very expensive. Jan took a great deal of pleasure in spending a large amount of his newly-acquired money. Shirts, slacks, undergarments, suits, everything lightweight, easily packed and uncrushable. If it was hot in New York, Israel was sure to be an oven. He did not mind heat, but he liked to be dressed for it. Shoes and a better grade of sandal than he was wearing completed his outfit. His image in the mirror was greatly improved.

“Send the rest to the Waldorf,” he said, passing over his card. He pointed to his discarded clothing. “And dispose of these.”

“Very good, sir. If you would approve the sales slip… ?” Jan waved it away; it wasn’t his own money being spent. The clerk slipped Jan’s ID into the machine, entered the sum to be debited, then returned the card. The money had been transferred from Jan’s account to that of the shop’s.

The waiting policeman nodded approvingly at Jan’s new clothing. The world was in order again. He led the way to a luggage shop, then found an optician where Jan could get some sunglasses; he was not used to the glare of full daylight after his years on the twilight world. On impulse he bought a second pair and handed them to the policeman when he came out. The man gaped, then slowly put them on, pulling in his stomach as he looked at his image in a shopwindow.

“I ain’t gonna forget this, sir. You’re a right guy. I never met a Limey before, but I think you’re right guys.”

There were a few more pedestrians about now and the officer looked closely at each one as they passed. His nightstick spun faster as a black man in ragged clothing came toward them. The man kept his eyes lowered and touched a large plastic badge on his shirt as he went by; identification of some sort. Very suddenly Jan had had enough of the city and was happy to be off the street and in the cool seclusion of the hotel. The keyboy led the way to the elevator, then unlocked the door to the suite for him.