They enjoyed a candle-lit dinner on a large oak table loaded with exquisite delicacies- glazed ducks on huge silver trays, salmon, mountains of beautifully carved vegetables, salads, a castle shaped out of mashed potatoes dripping with gravy. At least fifty candles flickered on the table, all in polished silver candle-holders, and the yellow candle-light glinted off all the gleaming silver and illuminated the sumptuous entrees. A pig head blindly held an apple in its glistening mouth, cubes of tofu dripped with an exotic sesame wine sauce. One platter contained four types of octopus, each a different color. Trent raised his glass to toast his new bride, Marbie. She grinned and raised her glass, her delicate hand trembling slightly. “Here’s to a life of feasting together!” Trent pronounced.

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It was an old felt hat, a little dusty. Green with a gold buckle and a black band. A leprechaun’s hat- the kind you’d wear on St. Patrick’s day before such hats were reduced to metallic cardboard. It had several abilities and one was to levitate, another to answer questions. Mavis kept it in a closet mostly where it hovered under some wire hangers. When she opened the door it followed her to her office and answered questions, mostly about her love life. Most of the responses were sarcastic, like What do you think? but Mavis realized that this sarcasm came from an intelligence far superior to her own so she kept up with her interrogations until she found something she could use. Well, obviously he would like the linguini, it only reminds him of the happiest time of his life, that’s all. But serve him whatever you want.

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The three of them sat on the diving board, high above the indoor public pool, bathing suits still wet, Amra, Kelly, and Dave, watching below as the water filled with, alternately, dead mobsters and cops. The gunfire was deafening, every shot echoing across the water. The shoot-out had been going on for hours now and neither side appeared to be winning. As soon as it seemed the cops had the upper hand, riddling the gangsters’ Armani suits with bullets and watching the last one topple into the swimming pool, another wave would arrive and Tommy guns would erupt with volleys of bullets that sent the officers for cover behind the knocked-over lockers. Most of the regular swimmers had run out screaming long ago but the three kids had gotten trapped on top of the high dive when the shoot-out began.

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