“Okay, okay then. But take care of the horse. I’ll send the money. It’s a generous amount.” Ad Magic reached into his pocket and withdrew his wad of cash, peeling off a few more bills. “See that this kid gets taken care of, okay? Send him to school. C’mon, doctor, don’t look at me like that—it’s only advertising money. I don’t have to work for it. Now I saw when the Lamb opened one of the seven seals, and I heard one of the four living creatures say, as with a voice of thunder, Come! And I saw and behold, a white horse, and its rider had a bow; and a crown was given to him, and he went out conquering and to conquer.”

When a black-and-yellow Ambassador taxi honked from Marine Drive, Ad Magic gave the horse a final embrace. “Heigh-o, Silver, and adios amigos,” he said as he hopped into the cab, brandishing a handful of cash, telling the driver to step on it.

Ad Magic gave the driver a hundred dollars for an eighty-cent cab ride and rushed through the lobby of the Taj Inter-Continental, up to his grand suite in the old part of the hotel. He showered, and after toweling himself off he saw his wallet and passport on the bureau. He cautiously opened the wallet, assiduously avoiding his driver’s license. The wallet was heavy with credit cards and cash. In it he saw a picture of an attractive blond woman and two children. At that moment he knew his name, knew his wife of fifteen years, knew his children, and knew himself. He threw the wallet down, and began scribbling on a yellow legal pad. There was so much to get down and his mind was racing out of control. The magic was getting through. He was developing advertising concepts, enough for a year. He phoned the desk and had a porter send up a bottle of scotch and a plate of rice curry.

The scotch calmed him some and by dawn he had most of it written down. He dialed the switchboard and placed a call to his wife in Los Angeles.

Cold Snap