It beckoned.
"I--don't believe you," said Paresi. "You can't want me. You don't know
who I am. You don't know what I am, what I've done. You don't want
me...." His voice quavered almost to inaudibility. "... do you?"
It beckoned.
"Then you know," sang Paresi in the voice of revelation. "I have denied
you with my lips, but you know, you know, you know that underneath ...
deep down ... I have not wavered for an instant. I have kept your image
before me."
He rose. Now Anderson watched him.
"You are my life," said Paresi, "my hopes, my fulfillment. You are all
wisdom and all charity. Thank you, thank you ... Master. I give thee
thanks oh Lord," he blurted, and walked straight into the blue glow.
There was an instant when the music was an anthem, and then it too was
gone.
Anderson's breath whistled out. He lifted his beer, checked himself,
then set it down gently by the figurine of the athlete. He went to the
place where Paresi had disappeared, bent and picked up a small object.
He swore, and came back to the couch.