“No. He’s my livelihood right now and he’s the job I’m working on. Dash will have to wait. We must have enough inventory to keep the yokels happy for a while.”
Kasabian thinks.
“Maria’s brought by a few things I haven’t put out yet. I’ve got the Buckaroo Banzai sequel and Pasolini’s Saint Paul movie. I guess I can hold them for a while and bring them out one at a time.”
“There you go. Keep the public hungry.”
“ ‘I’m waiting for my man. Twenty-six dollars in my hand,’ ” says Death.
Kasabian and I both look at him.
“How do you know that song?” I ask him.
“It’s just something I’ve heard somewhere. It’s about hunger, isn’t it? About trying to buy drugs?”
“That’s right. The Velvet Underground’s first album. Nineteen sixty-seven,” Kasabian says.
I go over to where Death is working. He stops when he sees me approach.
“You remember that, but you can’t remember how you got here.”
He nods.
“I like music,” he says. “Everyone thinks I like chess because of that movie.”
Kasabian turns down the sound on the big screen.
He says, “The Seventh Seal. Ingmar Bergman. Nineteen fifty-seven.”
I shoot him a look . . .
“Thank you, Rain Man.”
. . . then turn to Death.
“You want to have a drink with me? Maybe it’ll shake something loose.”
“You really want to get him liquored up?” says Kasabian.
I shrug.
“I figure it’s that or electroshock. What do you say?”
I put down the bottle on the counter. Death looks it over, his forehead creased.
“I don’t know. But if you think it will help.”
“You liked beer the other day. Maybe you’re a whiskey man too. Let’s explore that possibility.”
“All right. When?”
“Give me an hour. I’ll let you sniff the cork and everything.”
Kasabian doesn’t look happy. I’m stealing his help. And keeping him from buttering up the Grim Reaper.
“I’m going to see Candy. When I come back down, we’ll start the party. You know any party songs?”
Death thinks for a moment, then sings, “ ‘Happy birthday to you . . .’ ”