"Would you like to…" Okay, what? "… see a movie this afternoon? Maybe have some dinner, before you go to work?"
"This afternoon? Oh! Sure, yeah, that'd be great. What movie?"
"I heard that there's a Buster Keaton show, all afternoon."
"Okay. At Laughs Lost, right? Should I just meet you there?"
"No, I'll come get you."
"Great. Give me an hour or so, okay?"
"Yeah. Yeah." He looked around wildly for the clock. ''Two o'clock?"
"See you then."
The phone nearly slipped out of his hands as he hung it up. He cleaned up, dressed, went downstairs. Fay and McCain were in the dining room.
Danny said, "Does Mr. Patrise need me this afternoon?"
McCain said, "No, I don't think so. He'll be going to the club tonight, and I think he'd like to have you there."
"I'll meet you there at eight, if that's okay."
"Just so. Mind telling me where you'll be till then? Just in case."
"I'm going to the movies. Laughs Lost. We'll probably go out to dinner after-but I don't know where. We, that is-"
"You needn't say," McCain said easily. "Your time's yours."
Fay said, "Radiant speak connect? Trupsever glow, carol, abun-daniel."
She knew, Danny thought. She had sensed something, seen something-or was it obvious? Was McCain grinning, secretlv?
He nodded to her. She nodded back. He turned to McCain, whose eyes were suddenly flat and cool and empty. "Enjoy yourself, Doc," he said.
W T hen Danny got to Ginny's building, she was waiting, dashing down the steps in a bright red cloth coat, a bag slung over her shoulder. "My work stuff," she said, tossing the bag behind the seats. "I can change at the club. So we can have a nice, slow dinner."
Laughs Lost had a big marquee out front, with half an acre of electric bulbs, and spell-fired neon tubing bent into smiling masks. The lobby was full of framed photos of movie stars; all the pictures seemed to be in black and white, and most had a kind of fogg) glow-that was glamour, Danny thought. The seats were worn, and a little creaky. As the lights started to dim, someone dressed as Chaplin's Tramp pushed a broom down the aisle. He tipped Ins hat and disappeared into the darkness.
First there was a cartoon, a Red Riding Hood and the Wolf story set in a world of nightclubs and big cars. When Little Red threw off her cloak, revealing a tiny white dress and a lot of herself, and went into a swing dance, the Wolf's eyes popped yards out of his head. He bashed himself with a mallet. Danny stared. When had they made this? It couldn't have been for kids.
The cartoon ended, and in the minute of silence Danny felt his heart banging. He looked straight ahead. The screen flickered again.
Danny had heard of Buster Keaton, but never seen any of his films. He was hardly ready for the little man with the sad eyes, who never seemed able to smile. Keaton walked onto the screen, in his flat hat and rumpled clothes, and Danny thought, we're supposed to laugh at him}
Whatever they were supposed to do, they laughed.
There was a short movie about a moving man with a horse-drawn wagon, slogging on against what seemed like all the powers of nature. And another where Keaton was mistaken for a criminal, ridiculous on the face of it, yet his every action only got more police chasing him. And then a long film about the Civil War, with locomotives chasing one another, burning bridges, cavalry charges- Danny kept thinking of the tight-lipped thriller he had seen the other day, with its spies and trains and war, and somehow it only made this one funnier. The last image was of Buster triumphant (though hardly seeming to notice it), finding a way to salute his fellow soldiers and still kiss his girl.
Ginny's hand, Danny realized, had slipped easily into his. He started to turn, saw her face white in the glow of the screen. Then, with really rotten timing, the lights came up.
Stagger Lee was in the lobby, popping chocolate-covered raisins from the jumbo box. "Good afternoon, Doc, Miss Benci. Haven't seen you here before."
"No," she said. "I've been to some of the late shows, but not this."
"First time," Stagger said. "What an enviable position. Wish I'd known. It's an addiction, you know: you try the really hard stuff and you'll never kick it." Danny wasn't sure he liked the sound of that. But Stagger Lee just smiled, said, "There's a matinee every weekday. Tomorrow's Laurel and Hardy: I think they figure that's midweek, better bring out the heavy artillery. Thursday rotates: Snub Pollard, Charley Chase, Harold Lloyd, lots of other people you never heard of." He pointed a thumb at the pictures on the lobby wall. Stagger Lee had a striking resemblance to Lloyd. "Friday's sound shorts. Fields, the Stooges, Andy Clyde. And the Little Rascals, which is good, because those days I can get some work done. Did you like the cartoon?"
"It was great," Ginny said, laughing. "That crazy wolf-and the dancer! How did they do that?"
"Magic," Stagger Lee said. "The old kind. Weekends there are cartoon matinees. Do they still remember Superman, out in the heartland?"
Danny realized Stagger was asking him. "Sure. 'Truth, Justice, and-' "
"The American Way, right. But come by in two weeks and you'll see him like you never have. And more too. The greatest heroes of American fiction are Huckleberry Finn and Bugs Bunny."
The lobby lights blinked. "You'd better get back to your seats," Stagger said.
Ginny said, "How about you?"
"Oh, I've got a spot in the back. I like to watch the audience, you see. Almost more than the movies." Quietly, just to the two of them, he said, "Have you noticed how many Ellyllon are here today?"
Danny hadn't, but now he looked: the crowd was maybe a third elves, more than he had ever seen in one place.
"They like Buster," Stagger said. "I've overheard them claiming that he must have had some of their ancestry, which is the funniest thing I've ever heard an elf say."
Danny noticed the Truebloods after that. Sometimes they laughed at different spots, or a little before or after the humans, but mostly it all came together, elvish laughter and human, silver and gold.
When the second matinee ended, they paused to look over the coming-attractions posters in the lobby. Danny turned to find Stagger Lee standing quietly behind him. "Ask you something?* 1 Damn said.
"Just my specialty."
"Why are so many of the movies here in black and white? I know the silent ones are from before there was color, but…"
"Ah." Stagger looked around; the lobby was mostly empty. "It has to do with Trueblood vision. They don't see colors in the same way we do; subtle combinations turn muddy, can even give them headaches. You ever see an elf wearing more than one color, plus black and white?
"They can get through some of the really vivid Technicolor pictures, and cartoons-and I think they'd watch The Wizard of Oz and the Errol Flynn Robin Hood if they got nosebleeds-but black and white is just naturally more popular." He lowered his voice. "I assume you know the story of Joseph and the many-colored coat? I have a friend at the University of Chicago who believes that's a mythified version of a changeling narrative-elves abducting a human child."
Danny said, "You're kidding."
"My friend isn't. You should see her research. And it's more important than just one story. A lot of people would like to know just when Elfland went away the last time. The Truebloods aren't very forthcoming, so we're hunting for events that indicate the gates were open."
"Mr. Lee?" the woman behind the candy counter said.
Stagger Lee threw up his hands. "The things I do for free popcorn. Th-th-th-that's all, folks." He went into the manager's office.
It was dark outside, and the masks on the marquee were bouncing and spinning with light. Danny and Ginevra went to dinner at a little Italian restaurant a few blocks from the theater. Several people said hello to them, calling Danny by his Levee handle, tipping hats to Ginny.