Part 12 (1/2)
He leaned forward and stared in disbelief. There, on a skysc.r.a.per just across the street, was a man, sitting on the ledge, his feet dangling. He was cradling something in his arms.
”What is it?” one of the lawyers asked.
”Some lunatic with a death wish,” Victor said.
Still, he couldn't turn away. It wasn't concern over the man falling. It was the fact that he seemed to be looking straight into Victor's window.
”So. Should we start with the commodities portfolio?” one lawyer said.
”Huh? ... Oh. Yes.”
Victor lowered the shade and returned to the business of how much he could take with him when he died.
46.
Sarah stood outside the clock shop, looking at the sun and moon that were carved into the door.
She figured this must be the place, even though there was no name on the front.
She stepped inside and felt as if she'd entered a museum. Oh, G.o.d, they won't have it, she told herself. Look at this old stuff.
”Can I help you?”
The proprietor reminded her of a chemistry teacher she'd had soph.o.m.ore year, with white hair and narrow gla.s.ses. He'd worn vests, too.
”Do you carry-you probably don't-but there's this watch, I think. I don't even know if they make it, but ...”
The old man held up a palm.
”Let me get someone who will know,” he said.
He returned from the back with a serious-looking guy, mussed brown hair, a black turtleneck. Kind of handsome, Sarah thought.
”Hi,” Sarah said.
He nodded, wordlessly.
”It's a watch from a movie. You probably don't have it ...”
Ten minutes later, she was still explaining.
Not so much about the watch, but about Ethan and why she thought this would make a good gift. The guy behind the counter was easy to talk to; he listened with a patience that made it seem as if he had forever (his boss must be pretty lenient, she thought), and since she didn't talk to her mother about Ethan, and she couldn't confide in anyone at school (Ethan hadn't told anyone, so she followed his lead), it was a relief, almost fun, to let someone in on the relations.h.i.+p.
”He's kind of quiet sometimes,” she said, ”and he doesn't always text back.”
The man nodded.
”But I know he likes this movie. And the watch was like, a triangle, I think? I want to surprise him.”
The man nodded again. A cuckoo clock sounded. Because it was five o'clock, it went on for five chimes.
”Ooohh, enough,” Sarah said, putting her hands to her ears. ”Make it stop.”
The man flashed a look as if she were in danger.
”What?” Sarah said.
The cuckoo finished.
Make it stop.
There was an awkward silence.
”Um ...,” Sarah offered, ”if you show me some watches, maybe I can tell you if it's the right one?”
”Good idea,” the proprietor interjected.
The man went to the back. Sarah drummed her fingers on the counter. She saw an open jeweled case near the cash register, with an old pocket watch inside, painted on the exterior. It looked expensive.
The man reemerged, holding a box. On the cover was a photo from the Men in Black movie.
”OhmiG.o.d, you have it?” Sarah said excitedly.
He handed her the box and she opened it. Inside was a sleek black watch in the shape of a triangle.
”Yes! I am so happy.”
The man tilted his head. ”Then why are you so sad?”
”Huh?” Sarah squinted. ”What do you mean?”
She looked to the proprietor, who seemed embarra.s.sed.
”He's very good at what he does,” he whispered, apologetically.