“What are you doing?” I say. The man has lost his senses. “Looking for the rose petals and African drums.” He grins. “I mean, the king of Zamunda has arrived, right?” All I can do is look at him. Perhaps this meeting was not my best idea. “Zamunda?” Keigel repeats slowly, his eyes incredulous that I have no idea what he’s talking about. “Coming to America? Come on now, Eddie Murphy? Arsenio Hall?” I shake my head as if clueless. To increase my horror, Keigel breaks out in song. “Just let your soul-l-l glo-o-o.” His voice cracks, but his smile is wide and proud. “Is that a religious sect?” I
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