The
old Apache shaman, long white hair, face creased like the desert
mountains, whispered his warning. "Beware when traveling
between dream worlds."
Cliff's eyes popped open.
He stood in the largest screened-in porch he had ever seen. Outside,
palm trees shaded a beach, and the scent of tropical flowers hung
in the air.
This wasn't his basement apartment.
"Brunch?"
Cliff jumped. An athletic young man in khakis and golf shirt,
sun-glasses stylishly pushed back on his head, leaned in the doorway.
"Come on," said the young man. "We can talk while
we eat."
A table with plates of French toast and sliced melon stood in
the shade. The young man helped himself.
"They want you to write the screenplay." He pulled a
magazine from his leather satchel. Cliff caught a business card
tag attached to the handle, "Jim Carter, Literary Agent."
On the magazine cover, obliterating the foot of a seductively
posed female, were the words "NEW FICTION BY CLIFF BROWN!
LAW OF EQUIVALENCE."
Cliff had written a novel by that name; it lay, stillborn, on
his second-hand computer.
"Screenplay?"
"You know," said Carter, "Like you did for Flying
Monkeys."
Another novel that had earned a blizzard of rejection slips.
Jeannie, wearing on the minimal hint of a bikini, stepped onto
the porch. How did he know the woman's name? Her eyes were such
an incredible shade of green -- the kind that held his attention
despite the near-nakedness of their owner. But, those eyes lingered
on Carter -- too long?
Cliff corrected himself. He didn't know these people, so why should
he feel jealous?
Bending over, she kissed Cliff on the cheek, allowing him a perfect
view of her breasts straining to escape the bikini top.
Jeannie smiled. "You're a dirty old man." She bent down
a second time, her whisper teasing his ear. "And I love you
for it."
"We're talking about the movie deal," said Carter.
"Don't forget your book signing," she said.
"Right. Book signing." Cliff repeated the words to avoid
asking another question.
She touched his forehead with the back of her hand, like a nurse
testing for a fever. "Are you OK?"
It was time for honesty. There was no way this could be his life.
"Did you ever suspect that when something really good is
happening, something just as bad will happen to even things out?"
he asked.
Jeannie laughed. A loud, free, liberating sound. God, how he loved
her. And why did she keep looking at Carter that way? He suddenly
understood. He had cause to be jealous.
Carter grinned. "The first line from Law of Equivalence."
He glanced at his watch, gathered the papers, and slid them into
his satchel. "You should leave for the signing."
"Uh, where is the --" stammered Cliff.
"At Literal Lovers. You know, down Seaside Boulevard."
Jeannie threw a smile at him from over her shoulder and went out
to the beach. Cliff was distracted by what the bikini bottom didn't
cover as Carter picked up his leather satchel and left.
Cliff grabbed the magazine, only glancing at the pictures of scantily-clad
women. He found the excerpt from his novel, framed with the editor's
comments in italics.
"Cliff Brown is one of those talents appearing from nowhere
. . . . "
He skipped to the story.
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