Американские боги

           "ShouldIcallalawyer?"askedShadow.

           "Youaren’taccusedofanything,"saidMulligan."Uptoyou."Theypushedthroughsomeswingdoors."Takeaseatoverthere."

           Shadowtookaseatonthewoodenchairwithcigaretteburnsontheside.Hefeltstupidandnumb.Therewasasmallposteronthenoticeboard,besidealargeNOSMOKINGsign:ENDANGEREDMISSINGitsaid.ThephotographwasAlisonMcGovern’s.

           Therewasawoodentable,witholdcopiesofSportsIllustratedandNewsweekonit,withtheplaceonthecoverwhereanaddresslabelhadbeenpastedcutneatlyaway.Thelightwasbad.Thepaintonthewallwasyellow,butitmightoncehavebeenwhite.

           AftertenminutesChadbroughthimawaterycupofvendingmachinehotchocolate."What’sinthebag?"heasked.AnditwasonlythenthatShadowrealizedhewasstillholdingtheplasticbagcontainingtheMinutesoftheLakesideCityCouncil.

           "Oldbook,"saidShadow."Yourgrandfather’spicture’sinhere.Orgreat-grandfathermaybe."

           "Yeah?"

           Shadowflippedthroughthebookuntilhefoundtheportraitofthetowncouncil,andhepointedtothemancalledMulligan.Chadchuckled."Ifthatdon’tbeatall,"hesaid.

           Minutespassed,andhours,inthatroom.ShadowreadtwooftheSportsIllustratedsandhestartedtheNewsweek.