The Talisman

when the heads drifted in, and the heads really liked loud Dolby.
    There was a screeching, discordant crash of brass. The magic window opened again and now Wolf could see the fire – shifting oranges and reds.
    He howled and leaped to his feet, pulling with him a Jack who was more asleep than awake.
    ‘Jack!’ he screamed. ‘ Get out! Got to get out! Wolf! See the fire! Wolf! Wolf!’
    ‘Down in front!’ someone shouted.
    ‘Shut up, hoser!’ someone else yelled.
    The door at the back of Cinema 6 opened. ‘What’s going on in here?’
    ‘Wolf, shut up!’ Jack hissed. ‘For God’s sake—’
    ‘OWWWWWW-OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOO!’ Wolf howled.
    A woman got a good look at Wolf as the white light from the lobby fell on him. She screamed and began dragging her little boy out by one arm. Literally dragging him; the kid had fallen to his knees and was skidding up the popcorn-littered carpet of the center aisle. One of his sneakers had come off.
    ‘OWWWWWWWW-OOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOHHHHHHHOOOOOOHHHHOOOOOO!’
    The pothead three rows down had turned around and was looking at them with bleary interest. He held a smouldering joint in one hand; a spare was cocked behind his ear. ‘Far . . . out ,’ he pronounced. ‘Fucking werewolves of London strike again, right?’
    ‘Okay,’ Jack said. ‘Okay, we’ll get out. No problem. Just . . . just don’t do that anymore, okay? Okay?’
    He started leading Wolf out. The weariness had fallen over him again.
    The light of the lobby hit his eyes sharply, needling them. The woman who had dragged the little boy out of the theater was backed into a corner with her arms around the kid. When she saw Jack lead the still-howling Wolf through the double doors of Cinema 6, she swept the kid up and made a break for it.
    The counterman, the ticket-girl, the projectionist, and a tall man in a sportcoat that looked as if it belonged on the back of a racetrack tout were clustered together in a tight little group. Jack supposed the guy in the checkered sportcoat and white shoes was the manager.
    The doors of the other cinemas in the hive had opened partway. Faces peered out of the darkness to see what all the hooraw was. To Jack, they all looked like badgers peering out of their holes.
    ‘Get out!’ the man in the checkered sportcoat said. ‘Get out, I’ve called the police already, they’ll be here in five minutes.’
    Bullshit you did , Jack thought, feeling a ray of hope. You didn’t have time. And if we blow right away, maybe – just maybe – you won’t bother.
    ‘We’re going,’ he said. ‘Look, I’m sorry. It’s just that . . . my big brother’s an epileptic and he just had a seizure. We . . . we forgot his medicine.’
    At the word epileptic , the ticket-girl and the counterman recoiled. It was as if Jack had said leper .
    ‘Come on, Wolf.’
    He saw the manager’s eyes drop, saw his lip curl with distaste. Jack followed the glance and saw the wide dark stain on the front of Wolf’s Oshkosh biballs. He had wet himself.
    Wolf also saw. Much in Jack’s world was foreign to him, but he apparently knew well enough what that look of contempt meant. He burst into loud, braying, heartbroken sobs.
    ‘Jack, I’m sorry, Wolf is so SORRY!’
    ‘Get him out of here,’ the manager said contemptuously, and turned away.
    Jack put an arm around Wolf and got him started toward the door. ‘Come on, Wolf,’ he said. He spoke quietly, and with an honest tenderness. He had never felt quite so keenly for Wolf as he did now. ‘Come on, it was my fault, not yours. Let’s go.’
    ‘Sorry.’ Wolf wept brokenly. ‘I’m no good, God pound me, just no good.’
    ‘You’re plenty good,’ Jack said. ‘Come on.’
    He pushed open the door and they went out into the thin, late-October warmth.
    The woman with the child was easily twenty yards away, but when she saw Jack and Wolf, she retreated backward toward her car, holding her kid in front of her like a cornered gangster with a hostage.
    ‘Don’t let him come near me!’ she screamed. ‘Don’t let that monster come near my baby! Do you hear? Don’t let him come near me! ’
    Jack thought he should say something to calm her down, but he couldn’t think what it might be. He was too tired.
    He and Wolf started away, heading across the parking lot at an angle. Halfway back to the road, Jack staggered. The world went briefly gray.
    He was vaguely aware of Wolf sweeping him up in his arms and carrying him that way, like a baby.