Myth 08 – Myth-Nomers by Aspirin, Robert

Kalvin was still hovering patiently with his arms folded.

Perhaps it was my imagination, but there seemed to be a

terse edge to his voice.

“I guess so. Sorry for running on like that.”

“No problem. Just as long as I get my innings.”

“Innings?”

“A figure of speech,” he waved. “In this case, it means

it’s my turn to talk and your turn to listen. I’ve tried before,

but it seems like every time I start, we get interrupted . . .

or you get drunk.”

I grimaced at the memory.

“I didn’tmean to get drunk. It’s just thati’ve never…”

“Hey! Remember? It’s my turn,” the Djin broke in. “I

want to say . . . just a second.”

He made a sweeping gesture with his hand and . . . grew!

Suddenly he was the same size I was.

“There, that’s better!” he said, dusting his hands to-

gether. “It’ll be a littler harder to overlook me now.”

I was about to ask for a full accounting of his “meager”

powers, but his last comment had stung me.

“I’m sorry, Kalvin. I didn’t mean to . . .”

“Save it!” he ordered, waving his hand. “Right now it’s

my turn. There’ll be lots of time later for you to wallow in

MYTH-NOMERS AND IM-PERVECTIONS 137

guilt. If not, I’m sure you’ll make the time.”

That had a nasty sound to it, but I subsided and gestured

for him to continue.

“Okay,” he said, “first, last, and in between, you’re

wrong, Skeeve. It’s hard for me to believe such a right guy

can be so wrong.”

It occurred to me that I had already admitted my confi-

dence in my perception of right and wrong was at an all

time low. I didn’t verbalize it, though. Kalvin had said he