I swear…he started to cry.
* * * *
In the hallway, upon my exit, the pool boy popped his head out of his room, looking disheveled and sleepy, half-drunk perhaps, and asked, “What’s going on?”
I smiled and pointed to Katz’s room behind me. “He had a nightmare. I’ve calmed him down. Everything’s fine. Go back to bed, Tacoma.”
The pool boy listened, slipped back into his room at the end of the hallway. I didn’t see him until the next morning, when he saved my life.
* * * *
Thereafter, I slid into my office and settled at my writing desk. I didn’t work on The Next Fall, though. Instead, I spent the next two hours and Googled everything I could about Katz Strong from West End, Pennsylvania.
Everything.
Everything.51: Rendezvous