Awakenings by Edward Lazellari Read Free Book Online Page B

think she escaped from Bellevue.”
    “Lucky you. Look, I can’t let you in yet. Once the Fire guys give the okay…”
    “Thanks.”
    Seth walked over to Lelani.
    “We should go now,” she repeated.
    “Hey, nutjob, my goddamn home was fireballed! I’m not going anywhere. I have to see what I can salvage.”
    “Do it quickly.”
    “We can’t, yet.”
    Lelani took him by the arm and led him toward the entrance. She mumbled as they walked. Seth expected to be stopped at any moment. They were already up the stairs before he realized they’d snuck through. When they got to his floor, she told the firemen they had permission to be there. The city workers handed them face masks.
    “How’d you do that?” Seth asked.
    “They teach us these things in Bellevue,” she said, with a wry smile.
    A gray haze saturated the room. Even through the mask, the acrid air made its way into his mouth and nose. Piles of black ash sat where walls once stood. Charred floorboards remained of varnished woodwork. They had to watch where they walked. Electrical wires dangled from the ceiling. Lelani hung back. Seth made his way to his studio. All the photos were melted into slag. His cameras were destroyed, his computer, his stockpile of film—everything was gone. A puddle of plastic sat where the phone used to be.
    “Motherfucking goddamn shit!” he yelled. “It’s gone! All of it! Everything I own is shit.” He shoved his fingers into his hair and balled his hands into fists. Seth was on the verge of crying, but didn’t want Red to see him that way, so he swallowed the pain and pushed it into his gut.
    Lelani pulled her compact out again. She held it before her and gingerly circled the room.
    “Why are you doing that now?” Seth demanded.
    “Pardon me?”
    “You just had that compact out ten minutes ago. Your face needs less work than anyone I know.”
    Lelani followed his line of sight to her hand. “I’m not putting on makeup,” she said. “I’m checking for residual … well, it’s more ‘crazy talk.’ I’ll spare you the details.” She handed him the device.
    It was a heavy, ornate brass disk. There was a concealed hinge on one side and a clasp opposite it. On the inner lid was a mirror, but not the cheap kind mass-produced by Revlon. This was the cleanest reflection Seth had ever seen, pure liquid silver, as though you could stick your hand through it to the room on the other side. On the inner base were a series of assorted gems, and lines of pearls embedded in the brass. Around the jewels were intricate designs and patterns etched into the metal. Some jewels blinked, others remained lit. They cast a laser-like grid onto the mirror. It looked like a Victorian-era version of a Palm Pilot.
    “What the hell is this thing? A tricorder? It must be worth a fortune.”
    “It’s hard to explain. Just think of it as a Geiger counter for now. The gas line did not cause this fire. The explosion was the result of an attack. I’m quite certain you were the target.”
    “Oh, here we go again.”
    “Listen, before you lecture me; I’ve come a long way to find you—not to insult your intelligence, not to make your life miserable, not to start a friendship, but to help you discover yourself and in so doing, help my cause. I don’t want money and I don’t want pity for my mental state. I understand what you are going through … the loss of a home and friends is a terrible thing. I know because I have lost my own home.”
    Her fierce sincerity almost succeeded in making Seth forget she was a nutjob.
    “I don’t know what to make of you,” he said. “And I don’t have time to figure it out. My roommate’s dead. My home’s a cinder. I might be sleeping on a park bench tonight.”
    “Then perhaps I can give you some practical help. I have a room on Twenty-third Street. You can stay with me until you decide your next step.”
    “What’s the catch?”
    “You accompany me to the Bronx. I have to find someone. This