Set Voland--a homeless young man who attacked a child in the midst of hallucinations--has been caught by the police and sent to a psychiatric hospital. There, he's stricken by a meeting with a Shining White Being who will completely overturn his lif...
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26. THE DEMON SAID: "WIDE IS THE GATE AND BROAD IS THE ROAD."
Oh, Lord, Heavens knows, we belong way down below,
Oh, Lord, tell us so, we belong way down below (...)
The Devil's knocking at your door
Caught in the eye of a dead man's lie
(Heaven Knows, The Pretty Reckless)
In the afternoon Set went to meet Maria as planned. Since the time Sybil had left in the morning, he hadn't shown up in the apartment, not even for lunch. Subtle tension was growing in Set's heart, making him even more restless than usual. As he walked toward Palermo's he tried not to think about it and focus on the matter at hand. Everything was all right—if his plan succeeded things would be fixed up in no time.
Maria was already in the alley, waiting for him. She sat on the curb near Isaac, chattering cheerfully with the old man like it was normal for a pretty girl to get along with an old hobo. Set's eyes caught on the lovely face she was showing to Isaac—her good heart was one of her charms.
When the boy reached their spot, they both lifted their heads and greeted him. Isaac's eyes were filled with concern as much as Maria's were wary despite her smile. Set grinned at his pal, trying to conceal his uneasiness and behave normally. The old man shouldn't be involved in Set's plan. If Isaac got even a glimpse of it he would try to stop him and Maria, maybe even let Sybil know.
"Oi, geezer, get the dark look off your face," Set called as he flipped his head, waving around his fresh-from-the-bath, wavy hair.
Isaac shook his head, but a crooked smile curved his chapped lips.
"See? I'm all good." Set patted his own cheek and bent over the man to show off his clean face.
Isaac snorted, shooing away the boy with his hand. "Is he well too?" he asked, his gruff voice slightly wavering.
Set's chest tightened, but he kept the smile on his face. "Bad people are always fine," he quipped.
Isaac stood, his eyes narrowed as he looked closely at the boy, studying his face like a father trying to spot some lies.
"Bad people—Set, what are you, stupid?" he retorted.
Isaac crossed his arms and a whiff of sweat mixed with his foul breath slapped Set's face. In just a few days it felt already unfamiliar. Set's eyes ran over his friend's wrinkles and bagged eyes—he had gotten worse. As the boy realized how different their condition had become, a pang of guilt hit him.
"Move in with me—the guy's got plenty of cash," he tossed out.
A bewildered expression crossed Isaac's face. He pulled back and lifted his hands, waving them hastily in denial. "No way I can live with a saint. You got no shame, you know? I ain't like you."
