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I T WAS AS if the temperature was dropping ten degrees
with each passing hour. Levi found himself on the
rooftop of the apartment building, draping heavy
insulation foam over rusty pipes. Around noon, the
gloomy gray clouds gave way to a cascade of light
snow. He went back inside and searched through the
utility closet for a heavier coat. Just as he’d found it,
he heard a voice from the hallway.
“Been outside yet?” Jenny asked. “It’s turning white
out there.”
Levi was glad to see her smiling face. “You playing
hooky from work or what?” he asked.
“I’m not ready to leave Violet alone just yet.” Jenny
saw the brown sack in his bag and said, “You had
lunch yet?”
“No, not yet.”
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“So whatcha having?” she asked.
“Oh, the usual. Filet Mignon, a bottle of port.”
She laughed and snatched his lunch sack before he
could react. Inside, she found half of a sad-looking
sandwich wrapped in a paper towel. “Where’s the other
half of your sandwich?” she asked, worried for him.
“Ah, yeah…the other half is called dinner.”
Jenny’s eyes fell to his waist. His pants looked loose.
He was pretty lean when they’d met, but he appeared
to be even thinner now. The only things not slight
about Levi’s frame were his abnormally thick wrists
and arms.
“Come up to my apartment,” she ordered. “I’ll cook
you a real lunch.”
• • •
She slid a plate of pasta carbonara across the table
and Levi dug in immediately, not waiting for an
invitation. Compared to the usual pack of noodles or
bare sandwiches, this was like winning the food lottery.
Jenny enjoyed cooking for her new friends, both of
whom looked like starvation victims at times. She
watched him curiously for a moment before taking a
bite herself. Violet popped into the room briefly, said
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something about them having a late dinner, and went
back into the bedroom.
Jenny smiled at Levi. “Pain meds. They make her a
little loopy.”
“Well, the girl wasn’t exactly normal when I met her.”
They both enjoyed the banter and it felt nicely
familiar to enjoy an inside joke with someone.
Especially over a warm plate of expertly made Italian
cuisine.
“Did I tell you I saw a guy at the hospital? He was
really locked on to Violet for some reason.”
“Yeah?” Levi said, half distracted by his enormous
lunch. “She’s a cute girl; I’ll bet she catches stares all
the time. You find out who it was?”
“No, he left with some of the hospital staff. But it was
weird because he wasn’t dressed like them. And there
was this weird energy in the room. Does this sound
crazy to you? It does, right? I’m losing it.”
Jenny noticed that Levi had stopped eating but his
eyes had not left the plate.
“What did he look like?” Levi asked.
She searched her memory, looking for details like
approximate height and weight before beginning with
the obvious.
“He was wearing this oversized black hoodie. Well
over six feet.”
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“Jenny,” he said calmly. “Did he follow you home?
Does he know where you live?”
Jenny was taken aback by his sudden change of
tone. “I don’t… I don’t think so. Why?”
Levi rose and moved to the window. His eyes
frantically searched the intersection below, scanning
the sidewalks, peering into each open window in the
adjacent buildings. The snow was beginning to blanket
everything in a hurry.
“What’s going on?” she asked. “Do you think it’s the
guy who burned down the warehouse? Is he still
looking for Violet?”
“Listen to me. Think carefully. Did you notice him
following you? Did you see him after you left the
hospital?”
His change of posture frightened her. “No, I don’t
think so. Not since the hospital. Do you know
something you’re not telling me, Levi?”
“It’s Dev. That’s some twisted nickname he uses.
Jenny, you need to know that the person you saw is
very, very dangerous. He CANNOT know where you
live, do you hear me?”
“You’ve seen him too then?” she asked.
He stopped, turned his gaze from the window to
Jenny. “We’ve had some encounters, yeah.”
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“What did he say to you? Did he threaten you or
something? What does he want with Violet?”
At that moment, in the swirling madness that had
become his life, Levi thought of Charles. And his offer.
He wanted nothing more than to walk out of Jenny’s
apartment, catch a cab to the bar and sign those
papers. He could leave all this mess behind. No lamp,
no levitating psychopaths stalking him. A couple one-
round fights a year, a beautiful house in the tropics.
Not this dingy city with its cold streets and crazies
roaming around, thirsty for blood. He wanted out. He
wanted out in a big way.
Jenny snapped her fingers in front of his face, jarring
him back to reality. “Hey, where’d you go there? I’m
getting scared.”
He simply nodded his head, not sure what to tell her.
“Stay with me here,” she scolded. “What does this
Dev want with you and Violet?”
With a gulp and a sigh, he answered, “The lamp. He
wants the lamp.”
“What the hell is wrong with you?” she asked. “This
guy is going to kill all of us. Give him what he wants!”
Levi backed away from her, struggling to calm
himself enough to explain it to her. But how could he?
She hadn’t been there night after night. She hadn’t met
K.S. or seen what the lamp could do.
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“Jenny, it’s not that simple. It’s not just an antique.
Its value is of a… different sort.”
“Speak plainly to me,” she begged, getting frustrated.
“Why can’t you just give it to him and make all this go
away?”
“Because it heals people.” He felt stupid the moment
the words left his mouth.
“Heals… people?” she said, staggered by his
admission.
“It’s hard to explain, okay? But it healed a paralyzed
girl right in front of me. Last night the same thing
happened to a gunshot victim on Carter Avenue.”
“Levi…” she said, now gently sobbing. “You’re telling
me some killer is stalking us over a magic lamp?” Her
tone was that of fearful mocking.
“Why do you think someone would go to this extent
for an old antique?” he challenged.
“I don’t know, maybe because it’s worth a lot of
money.”
“Listen…” he started.
“No, no,” she said, cutting him off. “I get it. This Dev
guy wants your genie, right? He wants to rub your
magic lamp and get his three wishes. It all makes
sense. I get it now.”
“I knew this was a mistake,” he whispered to himself.
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“I worry about you,” she said. “I do. You’re a nice
guy. But have you… have you been checked? I mean,
your head? It’s not uncommon for boxers to suffer
traumatic head injuries. Maybe you could talk to the
doctor and get better.”
She was sincerely concerned for him. And then
Russell popped into his mind. Russell! That’s it! God
bless Russell!
“Jenny, go talk to Russell. He’s seen it too. Before
you say another word, talk to Russell. Ask him about
my genie.”
That last line gave him a sense of validation as he
headed out the door.
“Thanks for lunch, by the way. Keep your doors
locked for the time being.”
Jenny felt shame at once. “Levi…” she said in a soft
voice. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to mock you. I’m not.”
“Talk to Russell,” he repeated. “Tell Violet I’ll check
on her in the morning. Call me if you notice anything
fishy.”
“Why don’t…” she said, before pausing to collect her
thoughts. “Why don’t you stay over tonight? I mean, if
Dev is still out there it might be good to have you
around.”
“It’s actually safer for you if his attention is on me.
I’d be putting you in danger by staying here.”
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“Levi, I’m sorry.”
“Me too. Stay safe. Keep your eye on the girl.”
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