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FLASH FORWARD
born. He thought of it now: “You Always Hurt the One You Love.” His eyes flooded with tears as he shot her dead.
His eyes flooded with tears as he shot her dead.
2 AN ORDINARY JOE Nothing remarkable happened to Joe Mandel until the winter
that he was eighteen, when over the course of one day, more
prepared for his encounters with what his maternal grandmother, Dulcie
Dulcie Rockwell, called “Dedicated Practitioners of Evil,” or DPEs.
three generations of the Mandel and Rockwell families.
which Grandma Dulcie said was “a stupid redundant name,” where he had begun to prepare himself to be either an English teacher or an advertising copywriter, or maybe a destitute novelist. He wasn’t yet certain of his career,
either an English teacher or an advertising copywriter,
or maybe a destitute novelist...
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What they actually did was mostly pick
volunteer was on duty, a strikingly pretty girl named Portia. She was
strikingly pretty girl named Portia. She was so nice to look at that Joe twice stabbed his left foot when
be turned upside down and inside out and topsy-turvy, the change
for the most part soft-spoken, though he raised his voice when he said, “Corvette!”
most part soft-spoken, though he raised his voice when he said, “Corvette!”
Hither and yon actually proved to be
him—“Bus stop!”—and
with the consequence that he spoke again without volition: “Rats!”
again without volition: “Rats!”
ordeal Joe Mandel did not once question his sanity.
his hand atop it, though the large print looked oily and unclean. On contact, he declared, “Shit!” and hurried
print looked oily and unclean. On contact, he declared, “Shit!” and hurried onward.
prick the assailant’s hand. The thief cried out—“Shit!”—and dropped
cried out—“Shit!”—and dropped the purse. Although Joe Mandel possessed an admirable sense
must have been in one pocket or another. After all, if he had been a good enough magician to make switchblade knives appear from nowhere, he
enough magician to make switchblade knives appear from nowhere, he would not have needed to knock down old ladies to get drinking money.
Portia put one hand on Joe’s shoulder. “By the way, this is Joe Mandel. Joe,
one hand on Joe’s shoulder. “By the way, this is Joe Mandel. Joe, this is Ida Cortland.”
3 ICE CREAM AND PAINFUL LOSS The city council and the many business
establishment appeared historically correct—except that there were no ashtrays on the tables.
except that there were no ashtrays on the tables.
were like some pinball ricocheting from flipper to buzzer to bell.”
didn’t volunteer. I was dragooned.” “Dragooned by whom?” “Who the hell
volunteer. I was dragooned.” “Dragooned by whom?” “Who the hell says whom anymore?” “I might be a writer someday.” “Oh, I hope not. You seem so nice.”
might be a writer someday.” “Oh, I hope not. Yo...
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“I just want to tell good stories. Or write advertising copy.”
write advertising copy.” “I am dazzled by your commitment to literature. So what
4 ANOTHER TWO-HEADED CALF When they stepped out of the malt shop, Joe
left their litter sticks propped against a tree, and no one had taken them to run off and do impromptu trash collection.
“We got plenty left for you,” said Hocker, the one who appeared to have been stitched together from several murderers and brought to life by a lightning bolt.
with the purse snatcher, a calm settled upon Joe. Although he found this serenity inexplicable, considering all that had just happened, he succumbed to it.
Portia said, “I’m taking you home with me,” which sounded promising to Joe.
5 WHERE THE WATERS OF TIME FLOW The house was just a house, white stucco under a red
afraid. You’re only remembering what you’ve always known but forgot when
time—past, present, future—existed in the first instant of the universe’s creation.
use,” she said. “But we fail to understand it, and so we ride it always in one direction, straight to the grave.”
He thought perhaps he’d had enough brandy, anyway. “There are some scientists who believe that the universe
still, small voice suggested that the soother of nerves might be someone other than her and perhaps someone less pleasing to the eye.
