Megan Lindholm - Wizard Of The Pigeons

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ON THE FAR WESTERN SHORE of a northern continent there was
once a harbor city called Seattle.Jt did not have much of a
reputation for sunshine and beaches, but it did have plenty of
nun, and the folk who lived there were wont to call it "The
Emeraid City" for die greenness of its foliage. And the other
thing it boasted was a great friendliness that fell upon strangers
like its rain, but with more warmth. In that city, there dwelt a
wizard.
Not that folk recognized him as a wizard, for even in those
days, wizards were becoming rarer with each passing year. He
lived a simple life upon the streets of the city, passing among
me folk like the wind passes among the flowers, unseen but
not unfett. He was known, to the few who knew him, simply
as Wizard.
Little was known of his past, but atoning for this lack was
a plenitude of rumors about it. Some said he had been an
engineer and a warrior who bad returned from some far battle
with memories too fearsome to tolerate. And some said no,
that he had been a scholar and among those who had refused
to go to that far strife, and mat was why he dwelt nameless
and homeless in me streets. And some said he was older than
2 Megan Lindholm
the city itself, and others that he was newly arrived, only a
day or so ago. But what folk said of him mattered tittle, for it
was what he did that was important. Or didn't do, as Cassie
would have quickly pointed out.'
To Seattle there come blue days in October, when the sun
shines along the waterfront and one forgives the city its sins,
both mortal and venial. On such a day the cries of the gulls
seem to drown out the traffic noises, and the fresh salt breath'
of the ocean is stronger than the exhaust of the passing cars.
It was such a day, and sunlight shattered brilliantly against the
moving waters of Elliott Bay and the brisk wind blew the
shining shaids inland over the city. It was a day when no one
was immune to magic, and a wizard might revel in its glories.
The possibilities of the day nigged at Wizard's mind like a kite
tugs on a string. So, although he had been standing for some
time at a bus stop, when the bus finally came snorting into
sight, he wandered away from the other passengers, letting his
feet follow their own inclination.
When he reached the comer of Yesler Way, he turned and
followed it downhill, toward the bay. The sidewalk was as busy
as the narrow crowded street, but Wizard still halted in the
middle of it, forcing the flow of pedestrians to part and go
around him. He gazed up fondly at the peak of the Smith Tower.
A merry little flag fluttered from the tip of its tall white tower.
Mr. L. C. Smith, grown rich from manufacturing typewriters,
had constructed die tower to be the tallest building west of the
Mississippi. The flagpole had been added in an attempt to retain
that title for a little longer. The tower was no longer me tallest,
of course, but its proud lines gave Wizard the moral courage
to pass the notorious structure known as the Sinking Ship park-
ing garage. This was a triangular monstrosity of gray concrete
wedged between Yesler and James Street. When one considered
it as a memorial to the Occidental and the Seattle, the two old
hotels torn down to allow for its construction, it became even
more depressing. The hill's steepness always made it appear
that the garage was foundering and would vanish into die earth
tomorrow, but, alas, it never did. Wizard hurried past it.
Safely beyond it, he slipped back into a stroll again, gazing
around himself and taking more than a minor satisfaction in
knowing his city so well. He knew it not as a common street
survivor might, but as a connoisseur of landmarks and their
history. How many skid row denizens, he wondered, of all the
skid rows across the nation, knew that Seattle had boasted the
Wizard of the Pigews 3
original Skid Road, after which all others were named? From
the hills above (he city, logs had once skidded down dial nearly
vertical street to Yesicr's Sawmill. Living conditions in the area
had been so poor that an eastern reporter had taken his impres-
sions and the name Skid Road home, to coin a brand new
cliche.
Wizard passed under the gray thunder of the Alaskan Way
Viaduct with a small claustrophobic shudder, and emerged into
the sun, wind, and sea smell of Alaskan Way South. He turned
north and plodded up the waterfront, watching the tugs, ferries.
and gulls with equal interest. Ye Olde Curiosity Shop. That
was what was luring him. He hadn't chatted with Sylvester for
days; die old cool would be wondering where be was.
By the time he reached the glass doors of the shop, he was
just chilled enough that the warmth of the interior made his
ears tingle. He stood, rubbing the chill from his fingers, and
let his eyes rove over the shop. It was a marvelous place. It
was so crammed thai not one more item could be packed into
it, yet each time Wizard dropped by, something new had been
added. The place was a cross between a museum and a shop,
with rarities on display, and bargains for browsers. The aisles
were cluttered with machines that, for a single shiny coin,
would let you test your strength, find your weight, take a peek
at me lady in her bath, or hear the. nickelodeon tunes of the
olden days. For fifty cents, another machine would squish a
penny into a souvenir of the shop. One could buy postcards
and shells and knick-knacks and jewelry, carvings and pottery,
toys and trinkets. Suspended from the rafters were trophies of
the seas, including a mermaid's body. But Wizard walked past
all of these fascinating things, straight to the back of me shop.
The very best things were in the back of the shop. The
shrunken beads were here, and the ancient skulls in glass cases.
A baby pig with two heads was pickled in a large jar atop a
player piano. To the left of this piano was a Gypsy fortune-
teller holding her Tarot cards and waiting for the drop of a
dime to deal out your fortune card to you. To the right of die
player piano was Sylvester.
"So how's it going, old man?" Wizard greeted him softly.
Sylvester gave a dry cough and began, "It was a hot and
dusty day..."
Wizard listened, politely nodding. It was the only story
Sylvester had to tell, and Wizard was one of the few who could
hear it. Wizard looked through die glass into die dark holes
4 Megan Undbolm
behind the dry eyelids and caught the gleam of his dying emo-
tions. The bullet hole was still plainly visible upon Sylvester's
ribby chest; his dessicated arms were still crossed, holding in
the antique pain. His small brown teeth showed beneath his
diy moustache. Sylvester was one of the best naturally pre-
served mummies existent in the western United States. It said
so right on the placard beside his display case. Sylvester had
met with success in death, if not in life. One could buy postcards
and pamphlets that told all about him. They told everything
(here was to know, except who he had been, and why he had
died in the sandy wastes from a bullet wound. And those secrets
were the ones he whispered to Wizard, speaking in a voice as
dry and dusty as his unmarked grave had been, in words so
soft they barely passed the glass that separated them. Wizard
stood patiently listening to the old tale, nodding his head slightly.
Sylvester was not alone. There was another mummy in a
glass case next to his, her shriveled loins modestly swathed in
an apron. She listened to Sylvester speak to Wizard with her
mouth agape in aristocratic disdain for his uncouthness. She
had died of consumption and been entombed in a cave. She
still wore her burial stockings and shoes. Privately Wizard did
not think her as well preserved as Sylvester, but she was def-
initely more conscious of social niceties.
Sylvester finished his account, and Wizard stood nodding
in grave commiseration. Suddenly, raucous laughter burst out
behind him. Wizard gave a startled jump, and turned to find
that two teenage giris had slipped a coin into Laughing Jack.
The ninty little sailor with the fly on his nose and die cigarette
dangling from his lips guffawed on and on, swaying in the
force of his hilarity and wringing answering giggles from the
giris. The giris had eyes as bright as young fillies'. They were
incredibly young, even for a bright October day in Seattle.
Wizard could only marvel at it. When the coin ran out and
Jack was mercifully still, they stepped up to Estrella the Gypsy.
"Oh, I did her before. Come on. Nance. That's a dumb one.
She just gives you this little printed card."
"It's my dime," Nance declared loudly, and slipped the coin
in the slot. Estrella lifted her proud head. She gave the girls a
piercing look and then began to scan the tarot cards before her.
She made a few mystic passes and a small white card dropped
from a slot in me machine. Estrella bowed her head and was
still. Nance picked up the card. Haltingly, she began to read
Wizard of the Pigeons 5
Estrella's prophecies aloud. "'Your greatest fault is that you
talk too much. Learn to—'"
"Geez, Nance' You coulda learned that from me and saved
your dime!" Her friend rolled her eyes. and with much giggling
the two giris departed. Nance waving the little black and white
printed card before her like a fan. Wizard shook his head
slightly after them. Sylvester breathed a small and dusty sigh.
Estrella lifted her head and gave Wizard a slow wink. A second
card emerged from the slot.
Wizard stooped cautiously to take it up. He glanced at the
brightly painted tarot card in his hand, and then peered sharply
at Estrella. But she was as still as a painted dummy, her eyes
cast modestly downward. Wizard stared at his card. It was
more than twice the size of the one the girls had received.
Depicted on one side m gaudy colors was a man, caught by
one heel in a rope snare and dangling upside down. Wizard
was fascinated. Slowly he turned the card over. In ornate letters
of dark red was printed A WARNING' That was all. Estrella
wouldn't meet his eyes, and Sylvester gave a hollow groan.
Even the pickled piglet in its glass Jar squirmed uncomfortably.
Wizard tucked me card into his shirt pocket and gave a
farewell nod to Sylvester. The wind hit him as he emerged
from the shop, pushing him boisterously as it rushed past him.
He strode down the street, letting, the exercise warm him. A
tiny pang reminded him that he had not yet eaten today. Time
to take care of that. He heard the approaching nimble of a bus.
Tucking his shopping bag firmly under one arm, he sprinted
to the stop just ahead of it-
The bus gusted up to the stop and flung its door open before
him. Wizard ascended the steps and smiled at the bus driver
who stared straight ahead. He found a seat halfway down the
aisle and sat looking out the window. " *... Cannot rival for
one hour October's bright blue weather,'" he quoted softly to
himself with satisfaction. He stared out the window.
The bus nudged into its next stop and five passengers boarded.
The four women took seats together at the back, but the old
man worked his slow way down the aisle to stop beside Wiz-
ard's seat. Wizard felt his presence and turned to look at him.
The old man nodded gravely and arranged himself carefully in
the seat as the bus jerked away from the curb. The old man
nodded to the sway of the bus, but didn't speak until Wizard
had turned to stare out the window again.
6 Mega» Ufufbolm
"My boy isn't coming home from college for Thanksgiving
this year. Says be can't afford it, and when we said we'd pay,
he said he needed the time to study. Can you beat mat? So I
asked him, 'What are Mother and I supposed to do, eat a whole
turkey by ourselves?' So he said, 'Why don't you have chicken
instead?' No understanding. He's our youngest, you see. The
others are all long moved away."
Wizard nodded as he turned to look at the old man, but be,
was staring at the back of the next seat. As soon as Wizard
turned back to the window, he started it again.
"Our second girl had a baby last spring. But she won't come
either. Says she wants to have their first Thanksgiving together,
just her family alone. So when I said, 'Well, aren't we family,
too?' she just said, 'Oh, Daddy, you know how small our place
is. By the time you drove clear down here for Thanksgiving,
you'd have to spend the night, and I just don't have any place
to put you.' Can you beat mat?" The old man gave a weary
cough. "Eldest boy's in Germany, you know. Stationed there
fourteen months now, and only three letters. Phoned us three
weeks ago, though. And when his mother asked him why be
didn't write to us, he says, 'Oh, Mom, you know how it is.
You know I do love you, even if I don't find time to write.'
After he hangs up, she says to me, 'Yes, I know he loves us,
but I wish I could feel him love us.' It's for her I mind. Not
so much for me. Kids were always a damn nuisance anyway,
but it hurts her when they don't call or write."
The bus pulled into Wizard's stop. He kept his seat with
his jaw set against the grumbling of his stomach. As soon as
the bus lurched forward again, the old man resumed.
"I guess I wasn't around that much when they were growing
up. 1 guess I didn't put as much into them as she did; maybe
I didn't give them as much as I should have. So perhaps it's
only fitting that they aren't around when I'm feeling my years.
But what about Mother? She gave them her years, and now
they leave her alone. Can you beat that?"
Just as the old man's voice trailed out, the Knowing came
to Wizard. He always wondered how the talkers knew to come
to him, how they sensed that he had something to tell them.
Even Cassie had no answer to that question. "Every stick has
two ends." she had mumbled when he had asked her. "Mumbo-
jumbo!" he had replied derisively. But now he had something
for the old roan, and it must be delivered. He took his eyes
from the window, to stare at the seat back with the old man.
Wizard of the Pigeons 7
He whispered as huskily as a priest giving absolution in a
confessional.
"Buy the turkey and the trimmings. Tell her that with or
without kids at the table, you wouldn't miss her holiday cook-
ing. Your eldest son got some leave time, and he'll be flying
in from Germany. But he wants to surprise her. So keep it to
yourself, but be ready to go to the airport on Thanksgiving
morning. Don't spill the beans, now."
He never looked at Wizard. At the next stop the old man
rose and made his slow way to the door in the side of the bus.
Wizard watched him go and wished him well. At the next stop
he hopped off himself and went looking for the right sort of
restaurant.
It took him a moment to get his bearings, and men he
recalled a littk place he had used before. He mussed his hair
slightly, took his newspaper from his shopping bag and tucked
it under his arm, and clutched the plastic bag by its handles.
His stomach made him hurry the block and a half to the re-
membered location.
With a flash of light and a roar of wind, he appeared in me
door of the restaurant. A secretary hurrying through her half-
hour lunch break paused with her burger halfway to her lips.
Framed by a rectangle of bright blue October, the man in the
door blazed blue and white and gold. A strange little squirt of
extra blood shot through her heart' at the sight of him. Wasn't
he me illustration of me wandering prince from some half-
forgotten book in her childhood? Sunlight rested on his hair
like a mother's fond benediction. He was too vital and sparkling
for her to break her stare away.
Then the tinted glass door on its pneumatic closer eased
shut behind him, revealing to her me cheat. Bereft of wind and
sun at his back, the man who had seemed to fill me doorway
was only slightly taller than average. The gold highlights on
his hair faded to a brown tousle; even this boyishness was
denied by a sprinkling of gray throughout it. His lined and
weathered face contradicted his youthful stance and easy walk.
Just some smalltime logger from Aberdeen who had wandered
into Seattle for a day of shopping. His longsleeved wool shirt
was a subdued blue plaid; thermal underwear peeked out me
open collar. Dark brown corduroy slacks sheathed his long legs.
The blue spark of fascination in his eyes was only something
she had imagined. When the secretary realized her gaze was
being returned with interest, she stared past him, scowling
8 Megan Undbolm
slightly, and returned to her hamburger. Wizard shrugged and
strolled to the end of the line at the counter.
Once in line, he took the folded Seattle Times from under
his arm and stuffed it into the top of his plastic shopping bag.
He scanned the restaurant expectantly. The place was an ele-
gantly disguised cafeteria. The tables had donned red-checked
cloths and boasted small guttering candles in little red hobnail
holders. Their dimmed gleam was augmented by the shining
fluorescent light over the stainless steel salad bar. The girl
clearing tables wore a lacy little apron and a dainty starched
cap. But the fine masquerade was betrayed by the metal dis-
penser for paper napkins on the condiment bar, and die swing-
front plasdc trash containers that crouched discreetly beneath
potted plants. Wizard was not deceived. He caught the glance
of a small, giri seated at a corner table with her brother and
parents. His face lit when he spotted her. With a broad grin
and a wink, he reduced her to giggles.
"Ready to older, sir," the cashier informed him. Her square
plasdc name tag introduced her as Nina Cashier Trainee.
"Coffee." He tried a melting smile on her, but she was too
nervous to thaw. He jingled the change in his pocket as her
finger wiped his order onto her machine.
"You want that to go," she told him.
"No, I'll drink it here." He refocused the smile on her. "It's
pretty nippy outside."
She mustered an uncertain authority. "You can't sit in a
boom with just coffee and be alone." She gabbled the words
as her pen jabbed up at a sign posted high above anyone's eye
level. In stout black letters it proclaimed LONE PATRONS OR
PERSONS ORDERING LESS THAN $1.50 EACH ARE NOT PERMnTED
TO SIT IN BOOTHS BETWEEN 11:00 AND 2:00 PM. DUE TO LIMITED
TABLESPACE THE MANAGEMENT REGRETS THIS NECESSARY MEA-
SURE w OUR EFFORTS TO KEEP OUR PRICES LOW. So did Wizard.
The sign bad not been there last month.
"But I'm not alone. Miss Nina." His use of her name un-
balanced her. "I'm joining some friends. Looks like I'm a bit
late." He winked at the little girl in the corner booth, and she
squirmed delightedly. "Isn't the kid a doll? Her mom looked
just like mat when we were kids."
Nina hastily surrendered, barely glancing at the child. "A
real cutic. Fifty-seven cents, please. Help yourself to refills
from our bottomless pot."
"I always do." He pushed mixed coins onto the counter to
Wizard of the Pigeons 9
equal exactly fifty-seven cents. "I used to be a regular here,
but the service got so bad I quit coming in. With people like
you working here, maybe I'll become a regular again."
For an instant a real person peered out of her eyes at him.
He received a flash of gratitude. He smiled at her and let the
tension out of her bunched shoulders. She served him steaming
coffee in a heavy white mug. He let her forget him completely
as she turned to her next customer.
Wizard took his mug to the condiment counter. He helped
himself to three packets of cream substitute and six packets of
sugar, a plastic spoon, and four napkins. He sauntered casually
over to the corner booth where the small giri and her brother
pushed their food about on their plates as their parents lingered
over coffee. He halted just short of intruding on them and
allowed himself a few silent moments to make character ad-
justments. "Turning me facets of your personality until an ap-
propriate one is face up" was how Cassie described it when
she had taught him how. Prepared, he took the one more pace
that put him within their space, and waited for the husband to
look up. He did so quickly, his brown eyes narrowing. The
muscles in his thick neck bunched as the man hiked his shoulder
wamingly, and set down his coffee mug to have his fists free.
Very territorial. Wizard decided. He smiled ingratiatingly,
cocking his head like a friendly pup.
"Hi!" he ventured in an uncertain voice. He cleared his
throat and shifted his feet awkwardly. A country twang invaded
his voice. "I, uh, I hate to intrude, but I wonder if I could
share your table. I'm waiting for my lady friend."
"Then wait at an empty table," the man growled. His wife
looked both apprehensive and intrigued.
"Uh. I would, but, well, look, it's like this. The first time
I ever took her out, we wound up here, sitting at this table
until three in the morning. Since then, we've always sat here
whenever we come in. And well. today is kind of special. I
mink I'm going to, you know, ask her. I got the ring and the
whole bit." He patted his breast pocket with a mixture of pride
and embarrassment. His soft voice was awed at his own bold-
ness.
The seated man was not moved. "Buzz off," be growled,
but his wife reached quickly to cover his hand with hers.
"Come on, Ted, show a little sense of romance. What harm
can it do? Ws're nearly finished anyway."
"Well..." She squeezed his hand warmly as she smiled at
10 Megan Lindholm
him. Ted's hackles went down. "I guess it's okay." Ted gave
a snort of harsh laughter. "But maybe I'd be doing you a bigger
favor if I refused. Look how they get, once you many 'em.
Changing my mind before I can even decide. Yeah, sit!" Ted
pointed commandingly at the end of the booth bench, and
Wizard dropped into it obediently. He leaned his shopping bag
carefully against the seat, and smiled with a shy tolerance at
Ted's rough joking.
"Well, you know how it is, sir. I've been thinking it's about
time I took the step. I'm not a spring chicken anymore. I want
to do this thing while I still got the time to get me some pretty
babies like yours and be a daddy to them." He spoke with a
farm boy's eloquence.
"Hell, ain't never too old for that, long as you find a woman
young enough!" Ted laughed knowingly.
"Yessir," Wizard agreed, but he blushed and looked aside
as he did so. Ted took pity on him. Poor sucker couldn't keep
his eyes off the door, let alone make conversation. "Eat up,
kids. I want to be on the road before the traffic hits, and your
mom still has three more places she wants to spend my money."
"Oh, Ted!" me woman protested, giving their visitor a side-
ways glance to assure him that women were not as bad as Ted
painted them. The stranger smiled back at her with his eyes,
his mouth scarcely moving. Then his eyes darted back to me
door.
Ted pushed his plate away. Leaning back into me booth seat,
he lit a cigarette. "Finish your lunch, kids," he repeated insis-
tently, a trace of annoyance coming into his voice. "Clean up
those plates."
The boy looked down at his hamburger in despair. It had
been neatly cut into two halves for him. He had managed to
eat most of one piece. "I'm full. Dad," he said softly, as if
fearful of being heard. His sister pushed her salad plate aside
boldly. "Can't we have dessert before we go?" she pleaded
loudly.
"No!" snapped Ted. "And you, Timmy, just dig into that
food. It cost good money and I want it eaten. Now, not next
week!"
"I can't!" Timmy despaired. "I'm full! If I eat anymore,
I'm gonna throw up."
Ted's move was so casual it had to be habit. His right hand,
with the cigarette in it, stayed relaxed, but his left became a
claw that seized Timmy's narrow shoulder. It squeezed. **ff I
Wizard of the Pigeons 11
get mat 'throw-up' bit one more time, you are going to regret
it. 1 said eat, boy, and I meant it. Clean up that plate, or I'll
clean you up."
Cold tension rushed up from me children. The little giri
made herself smaller. She took a carrot stick in both hands,
like a chipmunk, and quickly nibbled it down. She refused to
look at her father or brother. The boy Timmy had ceased trying
to squirm away from Ted's white-knuckled grip. He picked up
his hamburger half and tried to finish it. His breath caught as
he tried to chew, sounding like weeping, but no tears showed
on his tight face.
The woman's face flushed with embarrassment, but Ted was
too focused on his dominance to care if he caused a scene. The
stranger was oblivious, anyway. His long narrow hand had
fallen to the table, where he toyed with the candle in its scariet
holder. He lifted it and swirled it gently, watching the flame
gutter and leap as the wax washed around the wick.
"It's a very big hamburger for such a small boy." The stranger
did not speak in his self-effacing country twang. His tone made
him an interloper at the table, drew Ted's eyes to him and
refocused his anger. Wizard's eyes met his. Their stares locked.
Wizard's eyes blazed an unnatural electric blue. Abruptly he
switched his gaze to Timmy- Ted's startled gaze followed his.
Wizard had continued to toy with me candle. The light from
his candle faded, then leaped up with a white intensity. It
became me only important light in the dimmed restaurant. It
licked over the boy's face, playing games with his features.
His round child's chin jutted into the firm jaw of a young man;
his small nose lengthened; the brows on the ridges above his
eyes thickened, and deepened the eyes themselves into a man's
angry stare. The anger and hurt in his face were not the emotions
of a willful brat. Ted was looking into the eyes of a young man
being forced to act against his own judgment and resenting it
keenly. One day he would have to justify himself to that man.
His hand dropped limply from his son's shoulder.
The candle flickered down, but Ted's vision did not pass.
How long since he had last looked at this boy? There had been
a baby, like an annoying possession, and then a toddler, like
an unruly domestic pet. They were gone. This was a small
person. Someday he would have to confront him as an adult.
Ted's jaw gave a single quiver, then stiffened again. Wizard
set the candle down on the table.
"If you're full, Tim, don't eat the damn thing. But next
12 Megan Lindbotm
time, tell me before I order it for you. It'll save us both a hell
of a lot of trouble." Ted leaned forward angrily to grind out
his cigarette on the untouched hamburger half. Wizard flinched
slightly, but made no remark. The woman was looking from
face to face in consternation. A message had passed, a change
had been wrought; she knew it, but she also knew she had
missed it. She began helping her daughter into her coat. She
gave the stranger a long look from the comers of her eyes. He
met it full face and nodded to acknowledge her uneasiness.
Ted was moving to leave, almost fleeing. She rose and gathered
her purse and bags. Nodding to the stranger, she managed,
"Best of luck to both of you."
"And to you, also," Wizard replied gravely. He watched
them walk to the door, me girl holding her mother's hand, the
boy walking out of his father's reach. They would need more
than his luck wish. He gave a small sigh for them, and turned
his attention to more immediate matters. Nina was busy taking
orders; the aproned giri had Just carried a tub of dirty dishes
back to the dishroom. Wizard assembled his lunch.
Only me top of Tim's hamburger had been fouled. He dis-
carded it and placed the rest on the woman's plate beside the
handful of crisply dark french tires she had rejected. Both the
children had been served from the salad bar. Their two plates
were a trove of broccoli spears, cauliflower florets, sweet pic-
kles, and garbanzo beans. They had devoured me more prosaic
radishes and carrot sticks, but left these adult-bestowed veg-
etables for him. Ted's plate donated a wedge of gariic toast,
one comer slightly sogged with spaghetti sauce, and two sprigs
of parsley. Not a feast, he reflected, but certainly far from
famine. And he needed it. The candle business had drained his
reserve energies. It hadn't been wise. If Cassie heard of it,
she'd call him a meddler, even as her eyes sparkled with the
fun of it.
He ate without haste, but he did not dawdle. He had to
remember that he was the man who had arrived late for a lunch
date. No reason to rush. In the course of his meal, he refilled
his mug four times, feeling with pleasure the hot rush of caf-
feine that restored him. During his fifth and final cup, he neatly
stacked the dishes out of the way. He drew his newspaper frotn
his shopping bag, folded it to the want ads and studied it with
no interest. He had possessed the paper for several days now.
It was beginning to look a little worn; best replace it today. So
essential a prop was not to be neglected. -.^
Wizard of tbe Pigeons 13
As he gazed unseeing at the dense black type, he reviewed
his morning. The Celestial Seasonings Sampler was the high
摘要：

ONTHEFARWESTERNSHOREofanortherncontinenttherewasonceaharborcitycalledSeattle.Jtdidnothavemuchofareputationforsunshineandbeaches,butitdidhaveplentyofnun,andthefolkwholivedtherewerewonttocallit"TheEmeraidCity"fordiegreennessofitsfoliage.Andtheotherthingitboastedwasagreatfriendlinessthatfelluponstrange...

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分类：外语学习 价格：5.9玖币 属性：175 页 大小：401.98KB 格式：PDF 时间：2024-12-22

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