Page 397 - Some Dance to Remember

Some Dance to Remember 367

“There are certain consolations I cannot tolerate,” Solly Blue said.
“Your Catholic obsessions prime among them.”
“I beg your pardon.”
“You’re obsessive-compulsive. Obsessed with religion. Obsessed with
sex. Obsessed with Kick. Now you’re obsessed with AIDS. When are you
going to realize that these obsessions are killing you? AIDS paranoia is
worse than AIDS itself.”
“Aha!” Ryan said. “I’m not obsessed. I’m not paranoid. Look at the
newspaper you’re reading. Even the cops have demanded masks and gloves
and plastic resuscitators to deal with guys who might have AIDS.”
“Yes, of course. The SFPD is so well known for its logic and compas-
sion.” Solly shook the newspaper at Ryan. “Add this to your obsessions.
The Los Angeles coroner’s office is working on plans to detect murderers
who might take advantage of an earthquake. They will inspect all bodies
to separate quake victims from murder victims. They figure a big earth-
quake will provide perfect cover-up for murderers waiting their chance.”
“That’s so El Lay,” Ryan said. “That’s your paranoia calling me
obsessive.”
“Don’t protest too much,” Solly said. “In an earthquake, you could
kill Logan.”
“You watch too much television. Besides, Logan’s not really the point.
He’s negligible. He’s nothing.”
“Oh, yeah?” Solly read from the paper: “‘Coroner Thomas Noguchi
revealed his plan last week to a gathering of the county’s undertakers, who
were told they must carefully inspect the corpses gathered in such a catas-
trophe for evidence of foul play.’ Undertakers know things other people
don’t know,” he said. He stared at Ryan. “I know what you’re thinking,”
he said. “Be very careful of any new obsession.”
“I don’t know what you mean,” Ryan said. “Thinking about what?”
“About shooting guns.”
“Out windows?” Ryan was amused.
“At people.”
“Come on.” Ryan caught his drift. “I might want Logan gone. But
dead?”
“Not Logan? Then maybe Kick.”
“God! The last thing I want is him dead. I could never shoot him. I
could never shoot anyone.”
“Not even yourself?”
“You are,” Ryan said, “evil...”
“And you’re too ethereal.”

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