Kage by John Donohue Read Free Book Online

she’d been putting off, so we flew
    in together. I dropped her off in Scottsdale and headed south
    toward Tucson. We planned to meet up in a few days and
    drive north. The Grand Canyon. Cliff dwellings. The wide-
    open spaces. It was going to be great if I could just avoid being
    assaulted by the people at this writer’s conference.
    The audience was still waiting for something from me. A
    retraction? I wasn’t sure. During my brief speech, I had gotten
    up to talk and had moved away from the table where three
    other speakers sat. Now I looked over to my fellow panelists
    in a mute appeal for help. They were silent for an awkward
    moment. I got the feeling they were happy just to be out of the
    blast zone. Then one cleared his throat and stood up.
    He was a lean, youngish guy with a full head of dark hair,
    wearing jeans, a dark turtleneck shirt, and a sport jacket. He
    looked every inch the best selling writer that he was. He had
    a self-confident, easy manner that probably came with being
    on the “A” list. All day people had been nodding and smiling
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    John Donohue
    at him, pointing him out surreptitiously and gazing in rapt
    admiration. So far no one had fallen to their knees and tried to
    touch the hem of his garment, but the day was young.
    “What Dr. Burke has done for us,” he said smoothly, “is to
    remind us of the real challenge of the writer’s craft.” He smiled
    at me and I smiled back. I couldn’t help it. The guy was good.
    And besides, the crowd seemed to buy it. I slipped into my
    chair and listened while he distracted the mob.
    “What we do as writers,” he continued, “is combine the
    world in our imagination with just enough reality to engage
    people’s attention; to gain their trust. And then we spin a web
    with language that makes them suspend something of their
    critical faculties.” He paused and the crowd seemed to hold its
    breath. “Then,” he concluded, “we pull them into our world.”
    His fellow panelists nodded in agreement and there was a gen-
    eral bobbing of heads all over the room.
    No one asked me questions after that. I had, I suppose,
    been officially noted as someone who would never enter their
    world. Fair enough. The session broke up and people milled
    around chatting and hoping for a private audience with the
    other luminaries on the panel. I was left pretty much to my
    own devices. I cut across the room and started to move down
    a side aisle, putting the rows of metal banquet chairs between
    me and the writers lingering for a last word. Some of them
    still looked annoyed with me. A vigilant defense is a successful
    defense.
    I escaped without incident into the foyer, which was located
    at the center of a series of conference rooms. People milled
    about display tables with colorful flyers and paperback books
    on racks, or sat along the walls at small café tables, chatting
    and drinking coffee. Everyone in this section of the hotel had
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    Kage
    to have little plastic ID cards around their necks to show that
    they were bona fide conference participants. Presenters like me
    had a little red star on their card. After my performance I was
    wondering whether they’d yank the star off.
    I glanced at my watch. It was too early to call Sarah. I fig-
    ured I’d get changed and visit the health center at the hotel.
    Traveling always makes my leg and back muscles tight and,
    after all this time, you get addicted to the regularity of some
    sort of training.
    I noticed some people moving down the hallway. They
    didn’t look like conference members. For one thing, they
    were missing their little plastic ID cards. And they were better
    dressed. The man was young and professional looking and was
    wearing a blue blazer with the hotel crest on it.
    The woman with him was a little older, but still on the
    young side of middle age. Frosted blonde hair. Blue eyes. She
    wore some sort of linen suit that fell around her in a way that
    made you think it was expensive. The guy