Page 40 of The Rules of Magic

Jet shook her head. It was safer not to speak.

“Because I would feel responsible. I would be the last person to have seen you. That would mean that I forever would carry this moment around, and think of what I could have done to stop you. My life would probably be ruined. I’d get off track and start to drink and I’d drop out of school and after a while this place would fire me, because everyone would blame me, and worst of all, I’d blame myself.”

Jet began sobbing anew. She turned away from him. There had been a plan and he was ruining it. She felt the bed sink as he lay down beside her.

“Don’t cry,” he said. He stroked her hair. “I can get you room service.”

In spite of herself, Jet laughed. “Room service? Why would that help?”

“The room service is great,” he protested. “You shouldn’t pass it up.”

Jet turned to face him. They lay side by side looking into each other’s eyes. His were very dark, flecked with gold. He told her his name was Rafael and he was taking night classes at Hunter College. She told him she had lost the man she loved and that she no longer believed in love and wanted nothing to do with it. He told her he planned never to marry and thought love was probably a foolish endeavor. He had seen what had happened to his mother, who had raised three children without any help, and who worked two jobs, all due to love, while his father went on and married twice more and had other families and never looked back. Jet had found her perfect bitter companion. She felt at ease in his presence.

“What do they have here for room service?” Jet asked.

“Everything. You name it, they’ve got it.”

She wanted roast chicken, string beans, and a hot fudge sundae.

“Give me fifteen minutes,” Rafael said. “Maybe twenty.”

She fell asleep while he was gone and she dreamed of the Angel of the Waters at the Bethesda Fountain. The angel arose and was free from the shackles of metal and stone. She put out her hand and stopped time, and everything in Manhattan was motionless, except for the swirling stars above the city. It was then Jet knew what she wanted. To go back to that day and relive it.

When Jet woke, Rafael had returned with a tray that he’d arranged for them. He brought enough for two. They ate together, except for the sundae, which Jet alone devoured. He’d been right, the room service was fabulous.

“Are you going to get fired?” she asked.

“No, my uncle is the head bellman.”

“I don’t want your life to be ruined. I would feel bad if you did get in trouble.”

“Trouble’s actually my middle name,” he told her. “Rafael Trouble Correa.”

They both laughed. Then Jet looked serious. She got up her nerve.

“What if I wanted you to be him?” she asked.

“The dead man?”

“And we would never see each other again and it would have nothing to do with love. You would just be him once.”

Rafael thought this over. He had had many strange requests working in the hotel. People wanted privacy or they wanted women or they wanted drugs or drink. He always said he couldn’t help them, because that was what his uncle, who’d hired him in the first place so he could put himself through school, had said to do. This, however, was different.

“I think I’d have to be myself. I can’t be a dead man.”

They had begun to drink the whiskey in the minibar. There were several varieties, all excellent. They’d had quite a few.

“You’ll be him to me,” Jet said. “That’s what’s important. I don’t want to mislead you.”

Rafael nodded. “I understand. Can you at least tell me his name?”

“Levi.”

“From the Bible.” That seemed to make him feel better about the situation. “Was he a good man?”

“He planned to go to Yale,” Jet said. “Divinity School.”

Rafael got up and went to lock the door. When he came back he said he could wait in the hall vestibule while she undressed and got into bed. He felt as though he had wandered into a dream, and sometimes in a dream you just follow the path you’re given without asking too many questions. For once you do, the dream is over.