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'Yeah； sort of；' Jack began…he still had no idea of how to begin expressing the things that troubled him。 They could not be put into ordinary sentences； for ordinary sentences made everything seem rational。 One 。 。 。 two 。 。 。 three： Jack's world no longer marched in those straight lines。 All he could not say weighed in his chest。
He looked miserably at the tall thin man before him。 Speedy's hands were thrust deep into his pockets； his thick gray eyebrows pushed toward the deep vertical furrow between them。 Speedy's eyes； so light they were almost no color at all； swung up from the blistered paint of the pier and met Jack's own…and suddenly Jack felt better again。 He did not understand why； but Speedy seemed to be able to municate emotion directly to him： as if they had not met just a week before； but years ago； and had shared far more than a few words in a deserted arcade。
'Well； that's enough work for now；' Speedy said； glancing up in the direction of the Alhambra。 'Do any more and I just spoil em。 Don't suppose you ever saw my office； did you？'
Jack shook his head。
'Time for a little refreshment； boy。 The time is right。'
He set off down the pier in his long…legged gait； and Jack trotted after him。 As they jumped down the steps of the pier and began going across the scrubby grass and packed brown earth toward the buildings on the far side of the park； Speedy astonished Jack by starting to sing。
Travellin Jack； ole Travellin Jack；
Got a far long way to go；
Longer way to e back。
It was not exactly singing； Jack thought； but sort of halfway between singing and talking。 If it were not for the words； he would have enjoyed listening to Speedy's rough； confident voice。
Long long way for that boy to go；
Longer way to e back。
Speedy cast an almost twinkling look at him over his shoulder。
'Why do you call me that？' Jack asked him。 'Why am I Travelling Jack？ Because I'm from California？'
They had reached the pale blue ticket booth at the entrance to the roller…coaster enclosure； and Speedy thrust his hands back in the pockets of his baggy green workpants； spun on his heel； and propped his shoulders on the little blue enclosure。 The efficiency and quickness of his movements had a quality almost theatrical…as if； Jack thought； he had known the boy was going to ask that particular question at that precise moment。
He say he e from California；
Don he know he gotta go right back 。 。 。
sang Speedy； his ponderous sculptured face filled with emotion that seemed almost reluctant to Jack。
Say he e all that way；
Poor Travellin Jack gotta go right back 。 。 。
'What？' Jack said。 'Go back？ I think my mom even sold the house…or she rented it or something。 I don't know what the hell you're trying to do； Speedy。'
He was relieved when Speedy did not answer him in his chanting； rhythmic sing…song； but said in a normal voice： 'Bet you don't remember meetin me before； Jack。 You don't； do you？'
'Meeting you before？ Where was this？'
'California…at least； I think we met back there。 Not so's you'd remember； Travellin Jack。 It was a pretty busy couple of minutes。 Would have been in 。 。 。 let me see 。 。 。 would have been about four…five years ago。 Nineteen seventy…six。'
Jack looked up at him in pure befuddlement。 Nineteen seventy…six？ He would have been seven years old。
'Let's go find my little office；' Speedy said； and pushed himself off the ticket booth with that same weightless grace。
Jack followed after him； winding through the tall supports of the roller coaster…black shadows like the grids of tic…tac…toe diagrams overlaid a dusty wasteland sprinkled with beer…cans and candy wrappers。 The tracks of the roller coaster hung above them like an unfinished skyscraper。 Speedy moved； Jack saw； with a basketball player's rangy ease； his head up and his arms dangling。 The angle of his body； his posture in the crisscrossed gloom beneath the struts； seemed very young…Speedy could have been in his twenties。
Then the custodian stepped out again into the harsh sunlight； and fifty extra years grayed his hair and seamed the back of his neck。 Jack paused as he reached the final row of uprights； sensing as if Speedy Parker's illusory juvenescence were the key to them that the Daydreams were somehow very near； hovering all about him。
Nineteen seventy…six？ California？ Jack trailed off after Speedy； who was going toward a tiny red…painted wooden shack back up against the smooth…wire fence on the far side of the amusement park。 He was sure that he had never met Speedy in California 。 。 。 but the almost visible presence of his fantasies had brought back to him another specific memory of those days； the visions and sensations of a late afternoon of his sixth year； Jacky playing with a black toy taxi behind the couch in his father's office 。 。 。 and his father and Uncle Morgan unexpectedly； magically talking about the Daydreams。 They have magic like we have physics； right？ An agrarian monarchy； using magic instead of science。 But can you begin to understand how much fucking clout we'd swing if we gave them electricity？ If we got modern weapons to the right guys over there？ Do you have any idea？
Hold on there； Morgan； I have a lot of ideas that apparently have yet to occur to you
Jack could almost hear his father's voice； and the peculiar and unsettling realm of the Daydreams seemed to stir in the shadowy wasteland beneath the roller coaster。 He began again to trot after Speedy； who had opened the door of the little red shack and was leaning against it； smiling without smiling。
'You got something on your mind； Travellin Jack。 Something that's buzzin in there like a bee。 Get on inside the executive suite and tell me about it。'
If the smile had been broader； more obvious； Jack might have turned and run： the spectre of mockery still hung humiliatingly near。 But Speedy's whole being seemed to express a weling concern…the message of all those deepened lines in his face…and Jack went past him through the door。
Speedy's 'office' was a small board rectangle…the same red as its exterior…without a desk or a telephone。 Two upended orange crates leaned against one of the side walls； flanking an unplugged electrical heater that resembled the grille of a mid…fifties Pontiac。 In the middle of the room a wooden round…back school chair kept pany with an overstuffed chair of faded gray material。
The arms of the overstuffed chair seemed to have been clawed open by several generations of cats： dingy wisps of stuffing lay across the arms like hair； on the back of the school chair was a plex graffito of scratched…in initials。 Junkyard furniture。 In one of the corners stood two neat foot…high piles of paperback books； in another the square fake…alligator cover of a cheap record player。 Speedy nodded at the heater and said； 'You e round here in January； February； boy； you see why I got that。 Cold？ Shoo。' But Jack was now looking at the pictures taped to the wall over the heater and orange crates。
All but one of the pictures were nudes cut from men's magazines。 Women with breasts as large as their heads lolled back against unfortable trees and splayed columnar； hardworked legs。 To Jack； their faces looked both fascinating and rapacious…as if these women would take bites out of his skin after they kissed him。 Some of the women were no younger than his mother； others seemed only a few years older than himself。 Jack's eyes grazed over this needful flesh…all of it； young and unyoung； pink or chocolate…brown or honey…yellow； seemed to press toward his touch； and he was too conscious of Speedy Parker standing beside him； watching。 Then he saw the landscape in the midst of the nude photographs； and for a second he probably forgot to breathe。
It too was a photograph； and it too seemed to reach out for him； as if it were three…dimensional。 A long grassy plain of a particular； aching green unfurled toward a low； ground…down range of mountains。 Above the plain and the mountains ranged a deeply transparent sky。 Jack could very nearly smell the freshness of this landscape。 He knew that place。 He had never been there； not really； but he knew it。 That was one of the places of the Daydreams。
'Kind of catch the eye； don't it？' Speedy said； and Jack remembered where he was。 A Eurasian woman with her back to the camera tilted a heart…shaped rear and smiled at him over her shoulder。 Yes； Jack thought。 'Real pretty place；' Speedy said。 'I put that one up myself。 All these here girls met me when I moved in。 Didn't have the heart to rip em off the wall。 They sort of do remind me of way back when； times I was on the road。'
Jack looked up at Speedy； startled； and the old man winked at him。
'Do you know that place； Speedy？' Jack asked。 'I mean； do you know where it is？'
'Maybe so； maybe not。 It might be Africa…someplace in Kenya。 Or that might be just my memory。 Sit down； Travellin Jack。 Take the fortable chair。'
Jack twisted the chair so that he could still see the picture of the Daydream place。 'That's Africa？'
'Might be somewhere a lot closer。 Might be somewhere a fellow coul