Американские боги

           Shadowfeltthathe’ddonesomethingverybigandverystrange,andhewasn’tcertainexactlywhatitwas.

           "Hey.Czernobog,"saidMr.Nancy,afterawhile."Youcheckoutthetechnicalboybackatthemotel?Hewasnothappy.He’sbeenscrewin’withsomethingthatscrewedhimrightback.That’sthebiggesttroublewiththenewkids—theyfiguretheyknoweverythin’,andyoucan’tteachthemnothin’butthehardway."

           "Good,"saidCzernobog.

           Shadowwasstretchedoutfulllengthontheseatintheback.Hefeltliketwopeople,ormorethantwo.Therewaspartofhimthatfeltgentlyexhilarated:hehaddonesomething.Hehadmoved.Itwouldn’thavematteredifhehadn’twantedtolive,buthedidwanttolive,andthatmadeallthedifference.Hehopedhewouldlivethroughthis,buthewaswillingtodie,ifthatwaswhatittooktobealive.And,foramomenthethoughtthatthewholethingwasfunny,justthefunniestthingintheworld;andhewonderedifLaurawouldappreciatethejoke.

           Therewasanotherpartofhim—maybeitwasMikeAinsel,hethought,vanishedoffintonothingatthepressofabuttonintheLakesidePoliceDepartment—whowasstilltryingtofigureitallout,tryingtoseethebigpicture.

           "HiddenIndians,"hesaidoutloud.

           "What?"cameCzernobog’sirritatedcroakfromthefrontseat.

           "Thepicturesyou’dgettocolorinaskids.