The woman opened her mouth and stuck out her tongue. Her tongue and gums were gray. Her eyes were squeezed shut, and her mouth was as wide as she could make it. She started making a wet, huffing noise, like a drowned engine trying to start.

“Okay,” said Jackie. “We’re going to leave now. Thank you.”

Jackie turned Diane around and leaned on her to get her to leave the store. Diane’s eyes never left the clerk. She saw a wall full of acoustic guitars, a middle-aged woman behind a counter selling a set of strings to a customer. She saw blank walls and, as the door swung shut, an old woman, eyes squeezed shut, huffing and wheezing with that wide gray mouth. She saw both, equally real before her.

“What now?” said Jackie, wincing into the words as she leaned against the hot stucco of the guitar shop wall. Her ability to hide her pain was faltering.

“One more store. Then City Hall,” said Diane. Her ability to hide her despair was faltering.

“I’m worried we won’t make it out of the next store if we go in it.”

“That’s a worry, yes. Yes it is.”

The next store said CELLULAR in red letters. Inside were display cases full of the newest models of cell phones. There were signs explaining about contracts and data plans. A young woman in a baseball cap and gray polo smiled at them as they walked in.

“Hello!” she said.

“This isn’t what I expected,” said Diane.

“Oh, did you read our sign?” said the woman. “We’re a cell phone store.”

“We read it,” said Jackie.

“We also do repair. Do you need a phone repaired?”

“No,” said Diane. “I’m sorry. We’ve come a long way in a very short amount of time.”

“Dude, what’s up with your town?”

“King City?” said the woman. Concern passed briefly through her expression, and then it was bright again. “It’s a great place.”

“Great . . . how?”

“Not sure,” said the woman. “Not a lot sticks in my memory. First thing I remember is you guys coming in. Do you want a cell phone?”

“No,” said Jackie.

“We’re looking for my son. He’s about fifteen years old,” Diane said.

One of the phones in the case started ringing. Concern returned to the woman’s face, and stayed.

“Those don’t even have circuits in them,” she said. There were sweat rings on her shirt. “They’re cardboard boxes with stickers to simulate the display. All the real phones are in the back.”

“Do you mind if we try answering it?” said Diane.

“Just don’t tell me what you hear, okay?” She no longer looked at all happy to see them. She pulled a key from a green rubber belt loop and used it to unlock the case.