Jake thought about this, biting his lip, then nodded. They headed for the door, then stopped and moved aside as the other Jake returned. The riddle book was open. Calvin Tower had lumbered over to the chessboard on the counter. He looked around with an amiable smile.

“Change your mind about that cup of coffee, O Hyper-borean Wanderer?”

“No, I wanted to ask you—”

“This is the part about Samson’s Riddle,” Mid-World Jake said. “I don’t think it matters. Although the Deepneau guy sings a pretty good song, if you want to hear it.”

“I’ll pass,” Eddie said. “Come on.”

They went out. And although things on Second Avenue were still wrong—that sense of endless dark behind the scenes, behind the very sky —it was somehow better than in The Manhattan Restaurant of the Mind. At least there was fresh air.

“Tell you what,” Jake said. “Let’s go down to Second and Forty-sixth right now.” He jerked his head toward the version of him listening to Aaron Deepneau sing. “I’ll catch up with us.”

Eddie considered it, then shook his head.

Jake’s face fell a little. “Don’t you want to see the rose?”

“You bet your ass I do,” Eddie said. “I’m wild to see it.”

“Then—”

“I don’t feel like we’re done here yet. I don’t know why, but I don’t.”

Jake—the Kid Seventy-seven version of him—had left the door open when he went back inside, and now Eddie moved into it. Aaron Deepneau was telling Jake a riddle they would later try on Blaine the Mono: What can run but never walks, has a mouth but never talks. Mid-World Jake, meanwhile, was once more looking at the notice-board in the bookstore window ( Pan-Fried William Faulkner, Hard-Boiled Raymond Chandler). He wore a frown of the kind that expresses doubt and anxiety rather than ill temper.

“That sign’s different, too,” he said.

“How?”

“I can’t remember.”

“Is it important?”

Jake turned to him. The eyes below the furrowed brow were haunted. “I don’t know. It’s another riddle. I hate riddles!”

Eddie sympathized. When is a Beryl not a Beryl? “When it’s a Claudia,” he said.

“Huh?”

“Never mind. Better step back, Jake, or you’re going to run into yourself.”

Jake gave the oncoming version of John Chambers a startled glance, then did as Eddie suggested. And when Kid Seventy-seven started on down Second Avenue with his new books in his left hand, Mid-World Jake gave Eddie a tired smile. “I do remember one thing,” he said. “When I left this bookstore, I was sure I’d never come here again. But I did.”

“Considering that we’re more ghosts than people, I’d say that’s debatable.” Eddie gave the back of Jake’s neck a friendly scruff. “And if you have forgotten something important, Roland might be able to help you remember. He’s good at that.”