Lexicon

what words are.”
    “They’re sounds.”
    “No, they’re not. You and I are not grunting at each other. We’re transferring meaning. Neurochemical changes are occurring in your brain at this very moment, because of my words.”
    Wil was silent.
    “Like I said,” Tom said, “no framework.”
    He felt lost. “No one lives in Broken Hill anymore. Not since the spill.”
    “No.”
    “Why did Cecilia try to kill me?”
    “It’s complicated.”
    “Was she a poet?”
    “No.”
    “Then . . . why?”
    “Rain made her.”
    “The rain made her?”
    “Not . . . not
rain
. Kathleen Raine, with an
E
. Wrote poems about nature. Lived in England from 1908 to 2003.”
    “And . . . she . . . came back?”
    Tom glanced at him. “Are you serious?”
    “What?”
    “They use the
names
. The names of famous poets.”
    “Oh,” said Wil.
    “They’re not
zombies
.”
    “Okay. I thought . . .”
    The drove in silence.
    “Is Wolf—”
    “Virginia Woolf,” Tom said.
    “Virginia Woolf is trying to kill me?”
    “Among others. But Woolf is the one to worry about.”
    “Why did your friend shoot himself? Because of words?”
    “We’re done talking,” said Tom, with finality.
    Wil shut his mouth. The road unraveled out of the dark and they went into it.

ITALIAN “INFERNO” CLUB FLOUTED FIRE CODE
    ROME: Overcrowding contributed to the deaths of 24 people in a popular Italian nightclub, early reports suggest.
    The fire, believed to have been caused by faulty wiring, tore through the Paradiso Club at around 10 P.M. last Saturday night, when the building was at its most packed.
    Reports in Italian media said a crush developed at exits to one of the club’s dance floors, with patrons unable to escape and becoming overcome by smoke. All two dozen people in this area are believed to have perished.
    Mariastella Gallioni, 18, who escaped the adjoining Musica section, described seeing a doorway filled with people. “There were two men [trying to get out] but they didn’t move. They were blocking the doorway. No one could get past.”
    The Paradiso recently completed a major renovation, during which it was granted fire certification. Italy’s government inspectors are notoriously corrupt.
    Police have promised a full investigation.

[FOUR]
    Emily kept waiting for someone to pull her aside, ask what she thought she was doing, trying to sneak on board with the first-class passengers. But when she reached the gate and handed over her boarding pass, the attendant smiled. “Have a nice flight, Ms. Ruff.”
    “Thanks.” She adjusted the strap of her bag, self-conscious. The other first-class passengers were in sleek suits and expensive blouses, and Emily was wearing jeans a guy had peed on the day before. She hadn’t realized everyone would be so bright and clean.
    “Ms. Ruff!” said the attendant on the plane, like he’d been waiting to meet her. “My information tells me this is the first time you’ve graced our airline. That cannot be true.” He beckoned, leading her past banks of leather thrones. “I am going to take extra special care of you.” He leaned close and whispered, stage-loud, “We need more beautiful young customers.”
    She thought he was making fun. But he wasn’t. First class was strange.
    “Make yourself comfortable,” said the attendant, “while I rustle you up the best chocolate cookie you’ve ever tasted.”
    “Okay,” she said. She went to stow her bag and the attendant looked horrified and took it from her. She slid into her seat. She had slept in smaller places than this. To her right, a woman in big sunglasses had a tall glass in one hand and a magazine in the other. She smiled at Emily, and Emily smiled back. The woman returned to her magazine. This was okay, she thought. This was okay.
    • • •
    She heard a tinkling and reached for her bag. The flight attendant whispered, “I’m so sorry.” He set a glass of water onto the armrest. The tinkling was ice cubes. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”
    She stared at the glass. When she’d first heard that sound, she’d thought someone was peeing.
    • • •
    She deplaned. That was what they called it:
deplaning
. She had never heard that word before. She unbuckled and felt sad. She wanted to stay in her little first-class kingdom.
    She’d left a note for a friend to pass to Benny. Had he read it yet? Was he upset? Missing her? She didn’t care about this as much as she’d thought. She had realized this while gazing