Chapter 81

Jarod is clearly unreliable. A couple days ago, when I’d asked if anything was happening with Sasha and the diner and the rally, his stupefied look said, “What?” His irritations and inflammations seem to be easily calmed by the unguent of time. And by “time” I mean a short catnap

“Then, that night, you can come hear your man and me make music,” Anthony nudges.

I turn to Jarod. “You’re in a band?”

He says he plays the occasional snare drum for Potassium Anime. Anthony plays the ukulele. Some girl plays the harp. The music sounds about as unappealing as their name, which isn’t much better than Theatrilicious. I ask its origin.

Jarod hunches his shoulders. “Two of the best things life has to offer: a beautifully speckled banana and Japanese cartoons.” He pauses. “If you had a band, what would yours be called?”

“Gertie Noel,” I announce after thinking.

* * * *

I take Ariel out of my pocket. Again, she’s not at the newsstand. I put Ariel back into my pocket.