For a long moment, nothing happened. We stood there, arms tight around each other, waiting. Then Doc whispered, “Look. There.”

Behind me, I could hear Tsi-boo’s gutteral growl from inside the cabinet. Then, I looked across the room. I could only barely see him: young, maybe not even 25, dressed in clothes that looked from a decade and a half ago, maybe two. He started at us as openly as we at him. Then he spoke: that low, almost inaudible flow of words. Now I could hear it; it was French, spoken in something combining a scattershot of accented vowels with a persistent roll of words. Doc tried to stop him, but either he couldnt hear him or he didnt want to stop. Finally, Doc put up his hand. The boy stared at it, entranced.

“Qui es tu? Comment t’appelle-tu?” he asked softly. “Pourquoi es-tu ici?”

The boy seemed to trying to wrap his mind around the questions, as though perplexed mostly that someone was speaking to him.

“I’m going to try and talk to him,” Doc whispered.

“What? I dont think so!”

“Ray, I dont think he’s harmful.”

“I’d rather you didnt take that chance, okay?”

Doc smiled. “If he’s living here, we’d better show we trust him not to break up the furniture.”

“The furniture is the least of my worries.”

“I’ll be fine.”

I didnt like the idea, but I slowly eased my arms away. The boy was now totally fixated on watching us, even as Doc put up a comforting hand and walked slowly to the couch, then sat on the end furthest from him. Then they talked, quietly, so quietly I couldnt hear anything beyond the occasional word or two, if that. It was like listening to a droning chant, and I could feel myself getting drowzy from the relentless rhythm of their words. Maybe that was part of the plan to… I dont know. Keep me out of the exchange, maybe. I dont know. But I do know that, what seemed like only a moment later, Doc’s hand was gently shaking my shoulder. “Nice nap?”

I looked at the far wall. “Gone?”

“In a manner of speaking.”

I grabbed him and held him tight. “Omigod, are you all right? What happened? Okay, look, if he’s still here, we are not spending another night in this place. I dont care if the only hotel around with an empty room is the Victoria; we’re outa here.”

“Ray — ”

“I mean it, Doc.”

“Ray, just calm down,” he said once more, gently forcing me into a kitchen chair. “He’s not going to do anything. If anything, he’s trying to figure out what we’re doing in his apartment.”

“His apartment? Who is he?”

Doc looked at the empty space. “Well, see, that seems to be the problem.”