in his body, the loneliness, the shame, the nervousness, the heart attack.
It slid into Eddie like a drawer being closed.
"I am leaving," the Blue Man whispered in his ear. "This step of
heaven is over for me. But there are others for you to meet."
"Wait," Eddie said, pulling back. "Just tell me one thing. Did I save
the little girl? At the pier. Did I save her?"
The Blue Man did not answer. Eddie slumped. "Then my death was a
waste, just like my life."
"No life is a waste," the Blue Man said. "The only time we waste is the
time we spend thinking we are alone."
He stepped back toward the gravesite and smiled. And as he did, his
skin turned the loveliest shade of caramel—smooth and unblemished. It
was, Eddie thought, the most perfect skin he had ever seen.
"Wait!" Eddie yelled, but he was suddenly whisked into the air, away
from the cemetery, soaring above the great gray ocean. Below him, he
saw the rooftops of old Ruby Pier, the spires and turrets, the flags
flapping in the breeze.
Then it was gone.SUNDAY, 3 P.M.
Back at the pier, the crowd stood silently around the wreckage of
Freddy's Free Fall. Old women touched their throats. Mothers pulled
their children away. Several burly men in tank tops slid to the front, as if
this were something they should handle, but once they got there, they,
too, only looked on, helpless. The sun baked down, sharpening the
shadows, causing them to shield their eyes as if they were saluting.
How bad is it? people whispered. From the back of the crowd,
Dominguez burst through, his face red, his maintenance shirt drenched
in sweat. He saw the carnage.
"Ahh no, no, Eddie," he moaned, grabbing his head. Security workers
arrived. They pushed people back. But then, they, too, fell into impotent
postures, hands on their hips, waiting for the ambulances. It was as if all
of them—the mothers, the fathers, the kids with their giant gulp soda