Memoranda by Jeffrey Ford Page A

place.”
    â€œWhat did you say to her?” I asked.
    â€œI told her I loved her and that I missed her. We couldn’t actually touch. When we hugged, we went through each other. With air between us, we danced on the shore of the inland ocean. It was a night like this,” he said, pointing up at the stars. “Later on she disrobed for me, and I for her, since we knew it might be an eternity before we saw each other again. She slid her tongue through my chest and heart. Mine curled through her skull, and then she dissipated into a brown powder that carried the scent of cremat.”
    I looked up, and he took me by the arm and began to walk briskly. “I can’t be late,” he said. “I’m due to be torn to shreds and devoured.”
    â€œYou’re making fun of me again,” I said.
    â€œEach and every night. There’s nothing fun about it,” he said, all the humor gone from his face. He turned and walked away from me.
    When I looked up to watch him, I realized that he had led me back to the entrance. Bataldo headed out of the city toward the tree line of the forest, and I could hear him weeping. As he disappeared into the darkness at the edge of the wood, Misrix instantly appeared from the very same spot. He walked toward me, his wings outstretched.
    â€œI’m better now, Cley. We must continue,” called the demon as he approached.
    â€œIs my body doing well?” I asked.
    â€œYou are sleeping like a pup,” he said. “Come now.” With this, he moved behind me and clutched me beneath the arms. A cry of agony cut through the forest as we lifted off the ground, dried dirt billowing around us from the action of his wings. We hovered above the city, and for a moment I could make out the entirety of its spiral design.
    â€œI feel strong now,” said the demon, as we flew at top speed through the cold night again.
    â€œI met one of your victims from the Beyond,” I said, as he changed direction straight upward toward the now fully risen moon.
    â€œRegrettable in hindsight,” he said. “But back then he served me well.”
    â€œAnd will I serve you also?” I asked.
    The demon stopped flying, laughed, then plunged headlong out of the sky. The sudden rush of the wind was a roar that stole my scream. He put his mouth to my ear, and shouted, “You will serve us all.”

9
    I found myself sitting in a green-cushioned chair in the corner of a large parlor. There were windows without glass, bookshelves, a chandelier, a thick pink rug with an interwoven design of flowering tendrils. The warm night breeze drifted in over the four figures sitting at a table in the center of the room. They were drinking cocktails and conversing about the disintegration of something. There was a woman and three men, and when one of them noticed me and pointed, they all turned and stared.
    â€œYour specimen has arrived, Anotine,” said the man who first saw me.
    The woman smiled and waved her hand for me to join them. “Come over,” she said.
    â€œHave a drink,” said the thin man to the right of her.
    My head was still spinning from the fall, but I got out of the chair and walked unsteadily toward the table.
    â€œWhat is your name?” asked the woman, adjusting the strap of her yellow dress.
    â€œCley,” I said.
    â€œAnotine,” she said, and put her hand out to me. Her hair and eyes were dark. She was smooth-skinned, perhaps a year or two younger than myself.
    I did not touch her for fear that my palm might pass through hers, but I nodded and smiled.
    She pointed to the man across the table who had first seen me. “Doctor Hellman,” she said.
    A small, bearded fellow with spectacles and prominent ears shrugged, and said, “Welcome,” as if he were asking a question.
    â€œThis is Brisden,” she said, laying a hand on the shoulder of the man to her right.
    â€œAre you lightheaded, Mr. Cley?