bad as it sounds. The library had a small art gallery attached to it. It was open at night when there was an exhibition, which there was just then. And while I could have given it a pass, Ileana wanted to see it.
That was okay with me. Ileana could look at the art and I could look at her. Win-win, right? But Mom couldn’t think of a nicer thing than for me to ask Turk to come along.
I wanted her with us like I wanted a pet scorpion following me around, but I knew Ileana would agree that I should at least ask. “She is your cousin, blah, blah, blah.” And I was going to do the right thing.
So I went up to her attic and I said, “There’s an art exhibit at the library tonight. Pretty lame. You probably don’t want to go, right?”
And Turk said, “Sure. I’ll check it out. What time?”
I told Ileana Turk was coming. She sighed and said, “Oh, good.” Pause. “We are doing the right thing, my darling.”
“You might just as well ask Justin, too,” I said. “Darling.”
It felt weird and good at the same time to say it.
“Justin has a Mercians meeting,” Ileana said. “They always meet Fridays.”
“You know, I was reading about those guys,” I said. “They used to be the jenti militia. What do they do now?”
“You had better ask Justin about that,” Ileana said. “They keep very much to themselves. The rest of us know little about them.”
“Well, he can tell me about the old days, anyway,” I said. “Maybe I’ll impress him with how much I already know.”
“Perhaps,” Ileana said.
About seven-thirty, Ileana, Turk, and I got out of Ileana’s limo in front of the library.
The New Sodom Public Library was over a hundred years old. It had granite walls and marble steps that were slippery as grease when it rained or snowed. Which may have been why, instead of a couple of stone lions guarding the front entrance, there were two huge, coiled rattlesnakes.
The snakes had their heads turned toward each other. Their mouths were open and their fangs were about a foot long. Under one were the words DON’T TREAD, and under the other it said ON ME. Officially, they were a tribute to New Sodom’s Revolutionary War heroes, but a lot of people thought it was a warning about the steps.
The art gallery was a small wing off the main building. Inside, the walls were white and the floors were dark polished wood.
Gadje and jenti were walking up and down, stopping in front of the paintings, which were mainly squares and oblongs of canvas that had been dipped in industrial sludge, I guess. They had titles like The Third Time I Become the Sea, and Mourning of the Aesir. Apart from Ileana, Turk, and me, everyone in the gallery was formally dressed, and at least forty years old.
Ileana set the pace for us. She cruised down one side of the exhibition and up the other. Then she stood in the center of the room and slowly turned around. I could tell she was really interested in all that canvas.
I was really interested in Ileana. But hand-holding was all we were going to be doing tonight. Still, her strong little hand gripped mine like our skins were fused.
Turk didn’t seem to see the paintings at all. She was looking at everything else, checking out the height of the ceiling, measuring the walls with her eyes.
“Who do you have to know to get an exhibit here?” she said finally.
“Oh, there is a committee,” Ileana said. “My mother is on it.”
“Great,” Turk said. “What are my chances of getting a show?”
“I am afraid you would have to be famous, Turk,” Ileana said. “And it would be very helpful if you were dead. That is the sort of artist the committee prefers.”
“Dead? I’ll work on it,” Turk said. But then she said, “Damn it. Isn’t there anyplace in this town to get my stuff up?”
“There are a few private galleries,” Ileana said. “But this is the only public art space in New Sodom. It is too bad. It is such a small place for a town as large as New Sodom has become.”
I remembered again what Mercy Warrener had longed for. She’d wanted a place where the two peoples of New Sodom could get together. And then it hit me. One of those old mills could be that place. It would be more than an art gallery. There could be space