Odd Thomas

finished my story, the chief said, "What's got your attention, son?"
        "Sir?"
        "You keep looking over toward the pool."
        "It's Elvis," I explained. "He's behaving strangely."
        "Elvis Presley is here? Now? At my house?"
        "He's walking on the water, back and forth, and gesticulating."
        "Gesticulating?"
        "Not rudely, sir, and not at us. He looks like he's arguing with himself. Sometimes I worry about him."
        Karla Wyatt reappeared, this time with their first two dinner guests in tow.
        Bern Eckles, in his late twenties, was a recent addition to the Pico Mundo Police Department. He had been on the force just two months.
        Lysette Rains, who specialized in false fingernails, was the assistant manager at the thriving beauty shop that Karla owned on Olive Street, around the corner and two blocks from where I worked at the Grille.
        These two had not arrived as a couple, but I could see that the chief and Karla were engaged in some matchmaking.
        Because he didn't know - and never would - about my sixth sense, Officer Eckles couldn't figure out what to make of me, and he had not yet decided whether he liked me. He couldn't understand why the chief always made time for me even on the busiest of days.
        After the new arrivals had been served drinks, the chief asked Eckles to come to his study for a few minutes. "I'll get on the computer to the DMV while you make some phone calls for me. We need to work up a quick profile on this odd duck from Camp's End."
        On his way into the house with the chief, Bern Eckles twice looked over his shoulder at me, frowning. Maybe he thought that in his absence I would try to make time with Lysette Rains.
        When Karla returned to the kitchen, where she was working on the dessert, Lysette sat in the chair that the chief had occupied. With both hands, she held a glass of Coke spiked with orange vodka, from which she took tiny sips, licking her lips after each.
        "How does that taste?" I wondered.
        "Sort of like cleaning fluid with sugar. But sometimes I have a low energy level, and the caffeine helps."
        She was wearing yellow shorts and a frilly yellow blouse. She looked like a lemon cupcake with fancy icing.
        "How's your mother these days, Odd?"
        "Still colorful."
        "I would expect so. And your dad?"
        "He's about to get rich quick."
        "What with this time?"
        "Selling real estate on the moon."
        "How does that work?"
        "You pay fifteen bucks, you get a deed to one square foot of the moon."
        "Your father doesn't own the moon," Lysette said with the faintest note of disapproval.
        She is a sweet person and reluctant to give offense even at evidence of flagrant fraud.
        "No, he doesn't," I agreed. "But he realized that nobody else owned it, either, so he sent a letter to the United Nations, staking claim to it. The next day he started peddling moon property. I hear you've been made assistant manager of the shop."
        "It's quite a responsibility. Especially 'cause I've also moved up in my specialty."
        "You're not doing fingernails anymore?"
        "Yes, I am. But I was just a nail technician, and now I'm a certified nail artist."
        "Congratulations. That's really something."
        Her shy smile of pride made me love her. "It's not so much to some people, but it's a thrill to me."
        Elvis returned from the swimming pool and sat in a lawn chair opposite us. He was weeping again. Through his tears, he smiled at Lysette - or at her cleavage. Even in death he likes the ladies.
        "Are you and Bronwen still an item?" Lysette asked.
        "Forever. We have matching birthmarks."
        "I'd forgotten about that."
        "She prefers to be called Stormy."
        "Who wouldn't?" Lysette said.
        "How about you and Officer Eckles?"
        "Oh, we just met. He seems nice."
        '"Nice."' I winced. "The poor guy's already struck out with you, hasn't he?"
        "Two years ago, he would've, yeah. But lately, I'm thinking nice would be enough. You know?"
        "There's a lot worse than nice out there."
        "For sure," she agreed. "It takes a while to realize what a lonely world it is, and when you do… then the future looks kinda scary."
        Already in a delicate emotional condition, Elvis was wrecked by Lysette's observation.