Chapter 5

For all that I'd been worn out the evening before I had a restless night, filled with weird dreams. One was very persistent. I was stranded on a desert island, my friends were somewhere in the area but they thought I was dead, I knew. I had to find a way to signal them. Frantically I kept looking around for firewood, kindling, something to light a flame and burn it long enough for them to see and come to get me. But I was on a beach, there was little that would take fire.

I'd wake up about then, glance at the bedside clock, then roll over and go back to sleep and the same damn dream. I scrambled up the beach to the underbrush, found some twigs and straw, hauled it down, went back for another armload, but I still could see that it wasn't right yet, wasn't enough. Half awaken again, back to the clock, back to sleep and back to searching for the makings of my bonfire. One o'clock, two-thirty, three-forty-five, five-fifteen, on and on, and that fire never seemed to get lit.

By seven a.m. I'd had enough. Though I knew I'd been tossing and turning all night somehow the cat was still there, its tail still touching me. It was a remarkably comforting feeling, I was quickly finding out why people loved their pets so much. But it was definitely time to start the day, the electronics stores would be opening soon and I wanted to get in and start building my gadget's prototype. A quick cup of coffee, a shower, some breakfast for kitty—more asparagus, and I added a couple of leaves of Romaine lettuce for flavor—and a toasted bagel for me, and I was on my way.

About halfway in I realized this hadn't maybe been my brightest idea. Rush-hour traffic was absolutely horrible, and it was nearly two hours to get to the shopping mall where my preferred electronics store was located. Kitty had showed me that he wanted to come along, and I'd popped him in the car and let him ride shotgun, but when we got to the store he didn't stir; shopping was my thing, not his, he made plain, go get 'em, boy. So, schematic and shopping list in hand, I went in.

One-stop shopping wasn't in it for me, I soon realized. I got a lot of what I was after, but two or three items they simply didn't have. The clerk and I had a long discussion, and I took what I had and moved on to another shop he'd recommended. And then another, and then another...

About two p.m. I finally accepted that I simply wasn't going to be able to find everything I needed. At the second shop I'd been able to fill one of the blanks the first one didn't have, the third one gave me another, but there was still one particular transistor that nobody seemed to carry. Everybody offered to special-order for me, but that wasn't the point, I wanted it now and nobody had it in stock. Kitty and I sat in the car and tried to design around it to the stuff that was available locally, but we finally realized that we just couldn't.

Well, never mind the special order, I knew perfectly well I could find the same thing on-line, which would not only be cheaper but it'd be faster, it'd be delivered direct to me instead of my having to fetch it from one of the shops. But we were both feeling seriously disappointed about the wait as we drove back home.

Kitty seemed especially downhearted, lying down in the seat beside me and drifting off to sleep as we drove. He didn't even stir when I stopped for gas; I had another Marullo to do tonight, and I'd have to do a quick turnaround to drop the cat off and get back to the opera house. But I found I didn't resent the double-trip; he'd been great company for this excursion, and I loved it that I'd had the companion with me. I also made a quick stop at the grocery, some Brus­sels sprouts seemed like a fine idea for kitty's dinner and I grabbed some Stilton cheese for mine, and some extra thick bacon; a grilled cheese and bacon sandwich—I had the bread at home—would do nicely.