by Karlin
of the souvenir shops a few blocks away.
“Why would I want this?”
“You need it.”
“Look, I’m walking fine without it, and it looks to me like you need it a lot more than I do.”
“I have managed for quite a few years without a stick. I brought it here especially for you.”
“For me? You picked me at random. You had no idea who was going to come down this street.”
“You may believe that if you like. In fact, I have been waiting for you for a long time. However, I see very little point in arguing about it.”
“Well, in any case, I don’t want the stick.”
“I am not surprised. But let me explain again. You do not want it. But you will need it. More precisely, you will have needed it.”
“Again, I don’t want it. Who the hell are you anyhow?”
“Hmm. You can call me Eli. That would be best. And one could say that we have met before. Or that we will have met before.”
This was getting to be a bit much for Jed. So much for a quiet afternoon wandering around Chinatown.
“Look, Mr. Eli, I do not want your stick. Have a good day.”
Jed turned away from the old man, and walked back towards Grant. He walked quickly down Grant, ignoring the other tourists, and hurried down towards the station on Market Street, with an eye towards getting back to the port.
He stopped to peer at the cables running in the crack down the middle of the street. Amazing how ingenious people could be. He tapped idly on the steel cover with his cane, and…
He could have sworn that he didn’t take the cane from that old guy. In fact, he had rather rudely just turned around and left. How did he end up with it?