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I don't believe in。。。 what I try to be
Words I whisper。。。 seem like a lie to me
Strange thing
Wonder what's happening？
Her voice spoke of confusion and fear； of doubt and loneliness； and our hearts sank within us。
I'm scared that maybe。。。 I'm what I seem to be
Today is only。。。 another dream to me
Fading quickly。。。 from my memory
Strange thing Wonder what's happening？
All around the room I saw men respond to that plaintive question； saw them wince at the thought of failure； as Bobbi Joy went into the bridge of her song。 Cradled in strings and an ironically mellow organ； she went on：
The sky is changing color
And the ground is far away
I wandered in my mind
And now I've lost the way。。。
Where are the places。。。 that I used to go？
Who are the people。。。 that I used to know？
Will things be any。。。 better tomorrow？
Strange thing Wonder what's happening？
And then； cutting through our despair as the sun cut through the holographic clouds； a full orchestra came out of nowhere； a warm carpet of sound that swelled in moments to an almost Wagnerian peak。 Bobbi's face was transfused with a startling smile of pure joy； and fullthroated she sang：
And then I meet a Meddler
And the Meddler es to me
He tells me of my future
And he forts me。。。
And the final verse exploded in Callahan's Place like a hallelujah chorus of horns and violins； banishing all the fear and the uncertainty and the pain； turning them all to nothing more than paid dues； the admission price to happiness：
Now rain is falling。。。 like a beautitude
Trees are weeping。。。 tears of gratitude
There's been a change in。。。 my whole attitude
Strange thing
Good things are happening
Strange thing …
Good things are happening
And with a flurry of trumpets； the song died。 Bobbi Joy smiled a deep； satisfied smile and disappeared； taking her mountain stream with her。
Callahan's arm came down fast； and the sphere exploded in the center of the fireplace。 And in that moment we realized； all of us in Callahan's Place； that the Meddler's guess had been part right。 Just as there are laws of Conservation of Matter and Energy； so there are in fact Laws of Conservation of Pain and Joy。 Neither can ever be created or destroyed。
But one can be converted into the other。
6
JUST DESSERT
Sooner or later； just about every bar acquires that most obnoxious of nuisances： the practical joker。 I'd have thought Callahan's Place would be immune to that particular kind of carbuncle … we don't seem to pick up the standard idiots that most saloons have to put up with； the weepy drunks and the belligerent loudmouths and the ones who drink to get stupider。 It's almost as though some sort of protective spell ensures that the only people who find Callahan's are the ones who should … and the ones who must。
But very occasionally； some refugee from the Dew Drop Inn does accidentally wander in； usually for just long enough to make us appreciate his absence when he finally leaves。 There was； for instance； the guy of an ethnic extraction I can't specify without getting a lot of Italians mad at me； who represented a juke…box concern。 He made Callahan an offer he couldn't refuse … so Mike didn't bother refusing。 The guy's broken arms eventually healed； I understand； but he never got over the amnesia。 Then there was the gent who brought his young secretary in to get her drunk for carnal purposes。 Callahan got a little sloppy that night： somehow all the ginger ale ended up in her glass and all the vodka in his。 When he woke up he was a far piece from nowhere； minus a secretary and a rather sporty pair of pants。
When the Practical Joker arrived； however； it was not Callahan but Doc Webster who fixed his wagon。
It was a Friday night； and the place was more crowded than Dollar Day in a cathouse。 Fast Eddie was sharing his piano bench with three other guys； Callahan and Tom Hauptman were behind the bar； busier than a midget mountain…climber； and we were plumb out of beer nuts。 Me； I was sandwiched between Doc Webster and Noah Gonzalez at the bar； feeling the urgency of hydraulic pressure； wishing there wasn't a wall of folks between me and the jake。
I guess it was the huge number of cars scattered around out in the parking lot that made that sadistic jackass think he'd found the perfect place to pull off his little gag。 e to think on it； maybe Fate was leading him to Callahan's after all。
In any case； he came shouldering through the throng with his two buddies on either side of him at about eleven； and the three of them took up position at the bar just beside the Doc。 I noticed them out of the corner of my eye and gaped like a fish with lockjaw。 The guy in the middle was plainly and simply the ugliest man I had ever seen。
When they passed out necks he thought they said 〃sex〃 and asked for lots and lots。 His chin and his Adam's apple looked like twin brothers in bunk beds； his nose appeared to be on sideways； and his eyes were different sizes。 His ears were so prominent that from the front he looked like a taxicab ing down the street with the doors open； and his hair resembled a lawn with persistent crabgrass。 The longest strands issued from his nostrils。 As he reached the bar； the clock over the cashbox stopped； and I couldn't blame it a bit。 I forgot about my bladder and gulped the drink I'd been nursing。
The Doc saw my face； swiveled his massive bulk around to look； and damn' near dropped his Scotch； you have to understand that the Doc firmly believes in the Irish legend that on Judgement Day you will be suspended head…down in a barrel containing all the liquor you've ever spilled； and if you drown； to Hell with you。 Even Callahan shuddered。
The guy glanced at the perfectly ordinary…looking acplices on either side of him； pulled a fistful of singles from the pocket of his sportscoat； and said； 〃Boilermakers。〃 The noise of the crowd had begun to abate as folks caught sight of the apparition； and the single word was plainly audible。
Callahan's cigar traveled from one side of his mouth to the other。 He shrugged his broad shoulders and produced three shotglasses and three chasers； unable to take his eyes off the guy in the middle。
The three of them lifted their shots； upended them； then did the same with the beers。
〃Again；〃 said the ugly man； and Callahan refilled their glasses。
The second round went down； if anything； faster than the first。
〃Again。〃
Callahan blinked； shrugged again and made three more boilers。
Gulp … gulp … gulp。
Now； even in Callahan's Place on a Friday night； amid some of the most dedicated drinkers that ever tried to outdo a sponge； this sort of thing is bound to attract some attention。 The silence was nearly plete； some of the boys in the far corners began climbing up on tables and chairs to watch； and there were enough necks being craned to make a chiropractor dizzy with glee。 Over at the piano Fast Eddie began a pool； taking bets on ho