4. Myron (2/4/07)

Buzz, slap, eyes open, 6:34, alarm off. My routine was routine – at least I had that. Mara was next to me, on her back, perfectly asleep as usual; she must have returned last night while I was dreaming. I forgot most of the dream, but there were birds, clouds, a gentle wind, and Mara. I hadn't dreamed of her for months, but she popped into that dream, reminding me to recycle the zephyr.

Shower, shave, towel, briefs, undershirt, buttoned shirt, pants, belt, tie, socks, shoes, briefcase, coat, breakfast bar. I don't think I deviated from the routine. Maybe I did – Mara wasn't awake to make sure.

I waited in the small bus shelter with some people for about ten or twenty minutes. I was on the edge and my left side got wet, but once I was on the bus I could relax. I kept my right hand in my pocket, feeling Alexa's letter. I kept trying to think of who Jason Argos was, and I finally remembered that he was my persona in a dream I had last week. (I befriended a dragon with a Scottish accent, and with his unflagging loyalty, I, Myron Minkus, Jason Quaid Argos, was able to kill Eben in a swordfight duel. Or it may have been a nunchaku duel.)

After I got a seat on the subway, I opened the letter and read every word again. This Alexa Ovet — She knew about my dream; she typed my name, Myron Minkus, on the envelope; she made me feel like I mattered. I had already committed part of the letter to memory:
"Remember Paris," she wrote.
". . . Dragon's Teeth. . . "
". . . my life is in danger. . . "
". . . our love is forever. . . "
She closed with "You must help."

I had to help her. I got off the train early, in Chelsea (or was it Times Square), and went straight to the nearest Starbucks. I ordered my usual. I gave a two dollar tip after the barista complimented me: "You have the most wonderful green eyes." (I have a feeling she said something about my smile, but I doubt it; all but a handful of compliments I've ever received have been about my eyes. Mara once told me I had a nice butt, and I've been her My-bear ever since.)

I drank my hot coffee and decided that I would discover who Alexa Ovet was and protect her from whatever danger she was in. I'd be like a detective, noting every minute detail, finding the clues beneath the routine. I'd be like Mike Hammer and Philip Marlowe and that cool guy from that TV show that Charlie likes. I practiced in the Starbucks.

The barista wore too much makeup and kept her red hair up. Her ring said 2006; she must have just graduated college and judging from her wonderfully soft hair, she was probably an aspiring actress or model. She talked to the flamboyantly gay (he wore a pink shirt) barista like he was a brother; she was a liberal, certainly. His hand touched her shoulder and he whispered, "Jessica, you look amazing today. I love your belt. Gucci?" On my way out, I complimented Jessica's fashion sense and validated my investigatory skills: she said, "Yes! I am a model! Are you an agent? . . . I'll model any clothes as long as I'm not naked."

I called into work and told them I was taking the day off. I emailed Charlie from my Blackberry and told him to meet me for lunch. I took a cab to the library to look up Dragon's Teeth.

prev: 2/3/07
3. Eben
                next: 2/5/07
The Power of Love


The Letter
prev: 2/3/07
3. Eben
                next: 2/10/07
5. The Felafel Vendor

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