to go
there while I was alive, so I had no real-life impressions of that place. It
turned out to be exactly what I’d expected it to be. People hanging from buses,
weird smells in the air, endless slums, rats in the streets. All my imagination
had to work off of was stereotypes, and that’s what I got—one big stereotype.”
The corners of Richard’s mouth lifted in a small smile. “I bet that if I go to
Russia, I’ll see bears on every corner and it will be snowing in the middle of
the summer.”
“You’ve never been to Russia?”
Richard shook his head. “I wasn’t much of an
international traveler. But I did make a point of visiting Australia. I just
had to see it for myself.”
“Did you tell your father about it?”
“Yes, I did. And I showed him pictures, too.”
“What did he say?”
“He said, ‘Good for you, son.’”
“Did you manage to convince him that Australia is
real?”
“I might have. I don’t want to overestimate my powers
of persuasion.”
“You were his son. He had to trust you.”
Richard made an uncertain motion with his head. Then he
asked, “Did you speak to my wife?”
“Yes. She didn’t tell you?”
“If she had, I wouldn’t have asked, would I?”
“Who knows. Your mind is a mystery to me.”
“What did she say?”
“She appears to be on your side. And before I forget,
congratulations on such a long marriage.”
“In a dream, anything is possible.”
“By the way, I have the answer to your question about a
jaywalker.”
“Oh really? Let’s hear it.”
“According to my lawyer friend, the driver might be
exempt from criminal liability under certain circumstances. It all depends on
the situation. However, he’d almost certainly be civilly liable for the loss of
life, so the jaywalker’s family could sue him even if he was cleared by the
police.”
“In other words, you don’t have a straight answer.”
“Richard, some questions don’t have a straight answer.
This is one of them.”
“All right, Doc. Honestly, I had a hunch you’d come up
with something vague and ambiguous.” He picked up his bag from the floor and
opened it. “That’s why I brought this.” Staring Stanley in the eye, Richard
produced a handgun.
Stanley felt a chill run down his spine. What had Gina
said? I hope he doesn’t hurt anyone. She must have second sight.
“What is it?” Stanley’s voice had suddenly become
hoarse.
“It’s a gun. I saw guns when I was alive; I know what
they look like. Unfortunately, I wasn’t an expert on pistols, so what you see
is a generic reproduction. I think I’ve done a good job. Does it look credible
to you, Doctor?”
“It looks quite credible.” Stanley licked his lips.
“Does it shoot bullets?’
“I hope so. Actually, I’m sure it does.”
“Why did you bring it here?”
“I’d like to demonstrate something to you. Take this
gun and shoot me.”
“What?”
“Shoot me.” Richard tapped himself on the forehead.
“Right here. Blow my brains out.”
“Why do you want me to do that?” Stanley swallowed a
lump in his throat.
“I’d like you to see that I can’t be killed. You don’t
die in a dream; you always come back to life.” He slowly caressed the barrel of
his gun. “It’s a great way to prove to you I’m not crazy.”
Stanley took a deep breath. “You’re telling me that I
could shoot you in the head and you’d survive?”
“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying.”
“Why can’t you simply make me believe you? I’m just a
figure in your dream, right?”
“As I said, some things are out of my direct control.
You know how complicated the human mind is.” Richard paused to think. “It’s
like pain or fear: these are the product of your mind, but you can’t turn them
off at will, can you?”
Well, to his credit, the son of a bitch always had a
plausible excuse.
“You could shoot your assistant if you don’t want to
shoot me,” Richard said. “What’s her name?
there while I was alive, so I had no real-life impressions of that place. It
turned out to be exactly what I’d expected it to be. People hanging from buses,
weird smells in the air, endless slums, rats in the streets. All my imagination
had to work off of was stereotypes, and that’s what I got—one big stereotype.”
The corners of Richard’s mouth lifted in a small smile. “I bet that if I go to
Russia, I’ll see bears on every corner and it will be snowing in the middle of
the summer.”
“You’ve never been to Russia?”
Richard shook his head. “I wasn’t much of an
international traveler. But I did make a point of visiting Australia. I just
had to see it for myself.”
“Did you tell your father about it?”
“Yes, I did. And I showed him pictures, too.”
“What did he say?”
“He said, ‘Good for you, son.’”
“Did you manage to convince him that Australia is
real?”
“I might have. I don’t want to overestimate my powers
of persuasion.”
“You were his son. He had to trust you.”
Richard made an uncertain motion with his head. Then he
asked, “Did you speak to my wife?”
“Yes. She didn’t tell you?”
“If she had, I wouldn’t have asked, would I?”
“Who knows. Your mind is a mystery to me.”
“What did she say?”
“She appears to be on your side. And before I forget,
congratulations on such a long marriage.”
“In a dream, anything is possible.”
“By the way, I have the answer to your question about a
jaywalker.”
“Oh really? Let’s hear it.”
“According to my lawyer friend, the driver might be
exempt from criminal liability under certain circumstances. It all depends on
the situation. However, he’d almost certainly be civilly liable for the loss of
life, so the jaywalker’s family could sue him even if he was cleared by the
police.”
“In other words, you don’t have a straight answer.”
“Richard, some questions don’t have a straight answer.
This is one of them.”
“All right, Doc. Honestly, I had a hunch you’d come up
with something vague and ambiguous.” He picked up his bag from the floor and
opened it. “That’s why I brought this.” Staring Stanley in the eye, Richard
produced a handgun.
Stanley felt a chill run down his spine. What had Gina
said? I hope he doesn’t hurt anyone. She must have second sight.
“What is it?” Stanley’s voice had suddenly become
hoarse.
“It’s a gun. I saw guns when I was alive; I know what
they look like. Unfortunately, I wasn’t an expert on pistols, so what you see
is a generic reproduction. I think I’ve done a good job. Does it look credible
to you, Doctor?”
“It looks quite credible.” Stanley licked his lips.
“Does it shoot bullets?’
“I hope so. Actually, I’m sure it does.”
“Why did you bring it here?”
“I’d like to demonstrate something to you. Take this
gun and shoot me.”
“What?”
“Shoot me.” Richard tapped himself on the forehead.
“Right here. Blow my brains out.”
“Why do you want me to do that?” Stanley swallowed a
lump in his throat.
“I’d like you to see that I can’t be killed. You don’t
die in a dream; you always come back to life.” He slowly caressed the barrel of
his gun. “It’s a great way to prove to you I’m not crazy.”
Stanley took a deep breath. “You’re telling me that I
could shoot you in the head and you’d survive?”
“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying.”
“Why can’t you simply make me believe you? I’m just a
figure in your dream, right?”
“As I said, some things are out of my direct control.
You know how complicated the human mind is.” Richard paused to think. “It’s
like pain or fear: these are the product of your mind, but you can’t turn them
off at will, can you?”
Well, to his credit, the son of a bitch always had a
plausible excuse.
“You could shoot your assistant if you don’t want to
shoot me,” Richard said. “What’s her name?
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