"I don't know, Flowers. I've got the impression that he was what is known in some places as a hit man. Possibly Syndicate. If so, there is no connection between his employers and myself that I can think of. I just don't know."
He slipped the volume into his pocket, then followed Johnson back inside.
Two
Randy spotted the blue pickup pulling out, and nosed into the parking place.
"This is the place?" he said, looking toward Spiro's.
Leila nodded, not looking up from her reading of Leaves of Grass.
"It was, at the time I was seeing, back in Africa," she said. "Now that we're in real time here, I don't know how close to synch it is."
"Translate."
"He might not have arrived yet, or he might already have departed."
Randy pulled on the emergency brake.
"Wait here and I'll go check," she said, opening the door, tossing the book onto the rear seat, and stepping out.
'Okay."
'Randy?"
'Yeah, Leaves?"
'She's a very vital woman, isn't she?"
'I'd say so."
'Is she attractive?"
'Yes."
'Domineering, though."
"She knows how to go about what we're doing. I don't."
"True, true... Who's that?"
An old man, a crusader's cross on his dirty tunic, shuffled up, humming to himself. He produced a grimy rag from his sash and began wiping the headlights, the windshield. He spat on a splattered butterfly, scraped it off with his thumbnail, ran the rag across it. Finally he came up on Randy's side, smiled and nodded.
"Nice day," he said.
"It is."
Randy fished around in his pocket, found a quarter, passed it to him. The man palmed it and nodded again.
"Thank you, sir."
"You look like a—crusader."
"Am. Or was," he said in foretalk lingo. "Took a wrong turn somewhere and never found my way back. Can't hold it against a man if he gets lost, can you? Besides, someone told me the Crusade's over and we won. Then another traveler told me it's over and we lost. Either way, it'd be kind of silly to go on—and I like it here. One of these days a bishop'll drive up in his Cadillac and I'll get him to release me from my vow. In the meantime, they let me sleep around back, and the cook feeds me." He winked. "And I make enough out here to get pickled every night in the taproom. Softest life I've ever had. No sense in looking for a fight when the war's over, is there?"
Randy shook his head.
"You wouldn't know for sure, would you?"
"Know what?"
"Who won."
"The Crusades?"
The other nodded.
Randy rubbed his nose.
"Well... According to my history books, there were four big ones and a number of so-so ones. As to who won, that's not an easy question to answer—"
"That many!"
"Yeah. Sometimes you guys came off ahead and sometimes the other guys did. There were all sorts of reversals and intrigues. Betrayals ... A lot of good cultural transmission went on. It opened the way for restoring Greek philosophy to the West. It—"
"The hell with all that, lad! In your day, who has the Holy Land, them or us?"
"Them, mostly—"
"... And what about our lands? Have we got them or do they?"
"We do, but—"
The old soldier chuckled.
"Then nobody won."
"It's not that cut-and-dried. Nobody really lost, either. You've got to look at the larger picture. You see—"
"Balls! It's all right for you to read about larger pictures, son. I don't feel like going back and getting a scimitar up the bunghole for your larger picture, though. Louis can keep his Crusade. I feel a lot better about wiping the glass in your Devil's chariot and staying soused right here, now that I know nobody won."
"Of course I see your point, even if you do lack a sense of history about it. But it's not right to say—"
"Damn right! And if you're lucky, someone from up the Road will come along and do you the same favor one day. Tell him about history if he does." He flipped the quarter into the air and caught it "Keep the faith, kid." He turned and limped away.
Randy nodded and located one of Leila's cigars.