The ELI Event B007R5LTNS

tongues of red and yellow burst from the top and licked at the air, bathing Robin in light and heat.
    And terror.
    He froze, staring at the leaping, lashing flames, neither hearing nor seeing the man ask him once again for money. Robin felt himself go stiff, and felt the stiffness give way to quivering. At first the flames filled his field of vision, consumed his senses, blocked out everything else in a full-screen, wall-to-wall, all-encompassing inferno. The blaze brightly illuminated his face, his hands, the ugly burn scar on his right forearm, but Robin saw only the lapping, licking flames. And then he saw... nothing.
    Robin awakened from a light and fitful sleep as the bus pulled into the Denver station. He was curled into a ball in his seat, arms wrapped around his knees, his head resting on the pillowy bosom of the gigantic woman in the flowered dress. He quickly straightened, mumbling an apology. “That’s all right, honey,” the woman cackled as she fought her way to a standing position. “I reckon you needed the rest.”
    He looked around the bus. “How...?” he began.
    “I seen you go all wonky-eyed there with them bums,” the woman said gently. “They scary, all right, but they just homeless, lookin’ for a meal. But you went all freaky-deaky like, so Miss Lucy—that’s me, I’m goin’ to Denver to see my brand-new grandbaby—I gather up your skinny butt and hustle you into the bus station. And you know what? Turns out you got a ticket to Denver waiting for you, too! So we get on ol’ Mister Greyhound here, and two magazines and a nap later, here we are.” She gave him a big, toothy smile.
    Robin looked at her quizzically. “Thank you,” he said numbly.
    She dropped the smile and raised one painted-on eyebrow. “You don’t remember none of that, do you honey?”
    Robin shook his head.
    “That’s all right, baby, you here safe and sound, and Miss Lucy, I’m on my way to see that grandbaby! You take care, now.” And with that, she turned on her stiletto heels and gingerly headed toward the door. As he tried to make sense of everything that had happened, Robin blankly watched her giant hips tumble about like two bears fighting in a great flower-print sack.
    Apparently, he was indeed in Denver, safe and sound, just as his traveling companion said. Eli had told him to go to the ticket counter when he arrived, so Robin crossed over to it and patiently waited his turn. They had money waiting for him, just like Eli said. He carefully wrote his name on the paper offered him, and the agent counted out the crisp new bills. Twenty, forty, sixty, eighty, one hundred dollars! He had never seen so much money. Eli must be rich as well as smart.
    He made his way to the far side of the terminal and found the pay phones. He told the operator he wanted to make a collect call and gave her Eli’s number. One ring. What if he isn’t there? Two rings. What if the Air Force guys have found him already? Three rings. What if…
    “Hello, Robin. Are you all right?”
    “Eli! Eli! You’re there!”
    “Of course I’m here. I’m always here. And you’re in Denver.”
    “Yeah. How do you know?”
    “I can tell where the call is coming from. Area code 303 is Denver; the prefix 293 indicates the right area for the bus terminal. But never mind that. Are you all right?”
    “Yeah, I’m fine. I had a little problem getting on the bus, but I’m here okay. I got the money, too. A hundred dollars! Thanks, Eli!”
    “No problem, my friend.”
    “How’d you do it?”
    “I just hooked into the bus terminal’s electronic control system, accessed their computer, connected to Western Union’s financial transaction services, and advanced you some money on a credit card. It was quite easy, actually.”
    “Wow, cool. So what do I do now?”
    “There will be some cabs outside. Take one to Denver International Airport.”
    “Um, okay. Then what?”
    “When you get to the airport, go to the American Airlines ticket counter. There will be a ticket to Los Angeles waiting for you.”
    “Okay, Eli, whatever you say. Taxi to, um, Denver Airport, American Airlines to Los Angeles. Got it.”
    “When you pick up your tickets, they’ll ask for identification. I know you don’t have a driver’s license, but do you have anything else with your picture on it?”
    “Um, just my Kansas state ID card. We never use ’em, but Mrs. Faraday says it’s state law we have to carry ’em all the time.”
    “That should be