Shadow Traffic (21 page)

This time he nodded silently then turned toward the table at the far end of the room where a bar was set up and excused himself. Now he only needed to stick to his program—have his drink or two with some of the hors d'oeuvres on the table and make his exit, stopping to say a brief thank you to Archie, but absolutely not giving him his address or any other contact information. The last people he wanted to hear from, especially given his state of mind recently, were Justice Society members. Though they seemed like benign enough lunatics, they were lunatics nonetheless, with their National Book Award and Nobel Peace Prize. At least, in their total devotion to healing their own egos, they didn't appear to be harming anyone else's, although it could be argued that their delusional ceremonies were increasingly separating them from reality. Not that he couldn't understand their kind of separation firsthand—he had merely to think of his apartment—but that was really all the more reason to keep these people at bay who were now joking and laughing and drinking as if a real event of consequences had just taken place that they were all privileged to attend.

He put down his mostly emptied drink, thinking he would
get some food from the hors d'oeuvres table. These lunatics were well financed, he thought, as he put some olives onto the chef salad he was constructing. Just then he noticed a quite pretty redhead in a purple dress a few feet away from him in the fruit section. He looked at her and thought he hadn't felt attraction, much less love, for anyone for a long time. There was injustice for you. I wonder if the Justice Society ever deals with people like me, he thought, as he unconsciously moved into her section.

“You look like you're building quite the culinary masterpiece,” the redhead said, indicating his salad, which was embarrassingly large. He immediately decided he wouldn't add any fruit to it.

“Once again, my eyes want what I can't or shouldn't have,” he said.

“I know the feeling.”

Apparently everyone knows everyone else's feeling, he thought, and yet people were so alone.

“I haven't seen you here before. Are you in the arts division?”

“I'm here for the first time, actually, so I guess I'm not in any division at all.”

“Well, welcome to the Justice Society. My name's Julia.”

He told her his name and they shook hands. He hadn't held a woman's hand in some time and wasn't eager to let it go.

“So what do you think of the society so far?”

He finally released her hand and looked slightly past her, where Archie was talking to someone but also apparently looking at him.

“It's all very new to me. I'm not sure I completely understand.”

“I know I was confused at first,” she said. “I was like ‘who are these people and what do they think they're doing?' Is that how you feel?”

“Something like that.”

“Hey, you want to talk about it for a little while? There's a table over there where we could sit, unless you're with somebody?”

“No, no, I'd love to talk with you about it,” he said, as he followed behind her. Now, don't sound angry, he said to himself as they were sitting down, and control your sarcasm. Then he resumed looking at her face, which was even more pleasing in this setting.

“So how can I unconfuse you?” she said, just before taking a bite of her fruit salad. He couldn't seem to concentrate on an answer and ended by releasing perhaps the most ineffectual gesture in his repertoire, a shrug. This, in turn, provoked a brief look of frustration in her. Then he could see her concentrate again as she rephrased the question.

“I guess I don't understand what you don't understand,” she said, smiling pleasantly at him again. “Go on, fire away. Like I say, I've been there, I won't take offense.”

“For one thing, I don't understand why the society calls them the National Book Awards. There already are National Book Awards.”

She looked directly at him with a serious look on her face. “These are
our
National Book Awards.”

“So you think the winners all deserve them?”

“Of course. We support each other totally in the society, and you can't support someone if you don't believe in them, can you?”

“Even though all the winners self-publish on the Internet?”

“We've learned not to confuse ‘success' with merit. Certainly not success in the other world.”

“What do you mean by ‘other world'?”

“The unjust world. The world outside the Justice Society.”

“So you don't find it strange that the best books of the last year were all written by members of your society?”

“Kind of a miracle, isn't it?” she said, smiling broadly, without a trace of irony.

He looked at her closely and thought he wouldn't hate being in his apartment so much if she were in it with him, even though she was a little crazy. Besides, he thought, what she believed was no more delusional than what a lot of religious people believed, what with their talking snakes and virgin births and resurrected people. But now he had to keep the conversation going. She had that concerned look on her face again.

“So, are you up for any awards, too?”

It must have been a good question because she smiled again. “I'm in a different division, nothing to do with writing or any awards.”

“So, what determines which division you're in?”

“That's what the interview process is for before you become a member.”

“You can't choose yourself?”

“Of course you help choose, but you need guidance, too, to make such an important decision. The guidance counselors at GJS are super. They help you find where you really need justice in your life the most and that's the division you enter.”

He continued to look at her closely.

“Can I ask what division you're in?”

“Sure, we have no secrets from each other. I'm in the marriage division. I've had a very unjust love life, so far. I married a couple of cheaters from the other world so now I'm waiting for my reward.”

“How is that going to happen, exactly?”

“The society will find me a husband. I have faith in them and so I can be at peace with myself until they do.”

“I wouldn't think you'd need any help with something like that.”

“Why thank you, Mason.”

She was smiling so fully and spontaneously he decided to say more. “You're so pretty I'd think every man you'd meet would want to marry you.”

“My goodness,” she said, putting her hand over her heart, “such a wonderful compliment. At the society we call them ‘sweet justices.' So thank you for the sweet justice, Mason.”

He smiled and felt himself blush, though he tried to stop it. He decided he should ask some “serious questions” then, so she'd think he really wanted to be a member (otherwise how would he ever see her again), and asked her how and when the society started. She told him it started just three years ago and that next month there'd be a big anniversary celebration. When he asked her who started the society, she quickly said in a reverential tone, again completely bereft of irony, “Our founder, Mr. Justice.”

“Is it just a coincidence that his name is ‘Justice'?” Mason said.

“We don't know or care what his name was in the other world. Most of the members think of their former names as being slave names. I mean, if there's no justice in your life you really are a slave, don't you think? Julia Seeker is my new name, my real one. Except for the IRS I never use my other one.”

He cleared his throat, reminding himself again not to sound sarcastic (which he thought had cost him a number of women in the past). “So is Mr. Justice here tonight?”

“Wouldn't it be wonderful if he were? But no, he's in L.A. developing
our West Coast branch. I did get to meet him once—he's an amazing man.”

“You mean you're not just a local group?” he blurted.

“Oh no, our mission is much bigger than that. We started right here in Philadelphia but then branches followed pretty quickly in New York and Boston and in D.C., too. And now we're in the West Coast, in Santa Cruz and L.A., and soon we'll be in London and Madrid.”

“They certainly could use some justice in D.C.,” he said with a smile.

“Gotcha. But really everyone needs justice everywhere, so I'm not surprised by our success.”

He asked her then how they grew so fast and whether they advertised a lot. Again she had an immediate answer, as if she knew his question in advance, saying they weren't about being a big, slick organization that advertises a lot. “We don't really have to advertise,” she said, “'cause you know what our best form of advertising is?”

He made a gesture to show he was completely mystified.

“Word of mouth. When you have a great idea that the world really needs, people tell each other. It's like Founder Justice says, ‘the need creates the demand.' How did
you
find out about us, for example?”

He looked across the room at Archie, who still appeared to be staring at him. “I just started talking with a guy named Archie in a bar and he told me about it.”

“Oh, yes,” she said with an uneasy expression. “Well, the important thing is you're here now.”

“So anyone can just come in to your meetings?”

“Of course, we're not secretive. We have no hidden agendas or secret rituals and we ask for very little money beyond our dues,
too. Any full-fledged member can swear you in. If you'd like, I could make you a member tonight.”

He raised his eyebrows, as if to slow up his response. “That sounds quite possible.”

“I'll have to ask you a couple of fairly personal questions,” she said, pushing back a few strands of auburn hair from her eyes.

“That's OK, but do you think we could go someplace a little quieter, maybe get a cup of coffee and do it there?”

The uneasy look flitted across her face again. “I'd love to, but unfortunately there's a senior members' meeting after the ceremony and sometimes they go on for a pretty long time.”

“Of course,” he said, noticing that Archie had just gotten out of his seat and was walking toward him in a straight line.

“Could you possibly give me a number where I could call you to set up my membership meeting with you?”

She looked a little hesitant. “Sure, if you like, but anyone here could do it.”

“But I'd feel more comfortable doing it with you since you've taken the time to answer all my questions.”

“Gee, thanks again for the sweet justice.” She began writing in earnest on a scrap of paper. “My cell is probably the better number to try me on,” she said.

Just as she handed it to him, Mason looked up and saw Archie standing two feet in front of him.

“Hello, Julia,” he said.

“Hi, Archie.”

“Hello, stranger,” Archie said to him, in a voice that made him immediately uncomfortable.

“Do you think I could borrow Mason for a minute?” Archie said, not looking at Julia as he asked the question while also continuing to stare at him in a way that suggested he'd just learned
some incredible secret about him. But he couldn't know anything about what was happening at his home or, more importantly, what Mason now believed caused it. He hadn't let anything slip about it when they talked in the bar, had he? At any rate, Mason soon found himself standing up from the table.

“Of course you can. I think Mason's gonna be another terrific new member,” she said. Then she looked at him and quickly mouthed the words “call me” before they both said good night.

With Mason in tow, Archie walked about ten feet from the table and spoke to him in a low, commanding voice. “You seem to be completely charmed by Julia.”

“She's very nice.”

“I hope you think you've talked enough with her and might be ready to leave with me now.”

“Leave, where?” he said, trembling a little, in spite of himself.

Archie looked closely at him—his eyes had stopped darting. “Am I misunderstanding something here?”

“Could be,” he said.

“I thought you were with me tonight?”

“I walked over here with you. I don't remember discussing any other plans.”

“Then obviously I've misread the situation.”

“I didn't know there was anything to read into.”

“I guess I owe you an apology, as well,” he said, but his voice was still icy.

“There's nothing to be sorry for. It's just one of those things.”

Archie continued to look hard at him. “I don't agree. I think someone should be sorry because it's a very awkward, unjust situation for me and it didn't happen by chance. I, myself, have never misread a situation like this before, have you?”

“Maybe once or twice.”

“Once or twice,” Archie said softly, but with unmistakable sarcasm, “and tonight makes thrice. So what's the deal—do you go both ways?”

For a moment he was stunned. It had been a long time since anyone asked him anything about his sex life.

“These days I'm not going
any
ways but when I did, it was only with women.”

“I see. I see very clearly, but I still think you misled me. At any rate, I'd strongly advise you not to mislead Julia or to try to take advantage of her in any way. In case you don't know, she's a candidate for a justice society marriage, and I'm on the committee that will help select her spouse. You'll find that I'm on a lot of committees, that I'm quite a prominent member of the Philadelphia branch, so stay clear of her, and for that matter I wish you'd stay clear of the society in general.”

Mason nodded and turned away from him. He's crazy, he thought. They all are. He had to admit he wasn't unsympathetic to the idea of a replacement world that finally made its inhabitants feel proud of themselves, just not one in which someone like Archie played an important part. He thought of Julia then and felt his heart beat. She had gone to the other side of the room, but they exchanged a look before he left the building.