Pages 689–692

E.T.A., Ennet House, and the A.F.R., cross-cut · first-time reader guide · all scenes

When you've finished these pages: three things worth a second look, at the bottom.

North Cambridge, the evening of Saturday 14 November, Year of the Depend Adult Undergarment. Poor Tony Krause — last seen seizing on a subway car at pp. 299–307 — wakes in the ambulance feeling wonderful, charms his way out of Cambridge City Hospital, and sets off on an eight-block walk toward Antitoi Entertainment. One long paragraph mid-scene drops back to an undated hotel operation; the present walk resumes right after. Nobody here is new except two women who appear, unnamed, in the last stretch of sidewalk — the scene gives you only what Poor Tony sees of them, and that's all you need.

Terms, in order of appearance

Health Card (pp. 689–690) — the era's medical ID; Poor Tony's is expired and not in his name, which is why the hospital lets him walk.
"the affairs of Wo and Copley Library and heart" (p. 690) — his own history: Dr. Wo (pp. 128–135), the snatched artificial heart (pp. 142–144), the library Withdrawal (pp. 299–307).
Antitoi Entertainment (p. 690) — the brothers' glass-and-novelty storefront on Prospect St., Inman Square; the shop of pp. 480–489.
Front-Contre-O.N.A.N.isme (p. 690) — French, roughly "Front Against O.N.A.N.ism"; dour Bertraund Antitoi's name for his little insurgent outfit.
waste-displacement barrel, souvenir miniature (pp. 690–691) — pocket replica of the barrels that launch U.S. waste north; here a weapon, hurled at a trade minister.
Cobray M-11 (p. 691) — real compact 9mm subautomatic, the hotel security's hardware.
Ryle's Tavern (p. 691) — real Inman Square jazz club; here it hosts Gender-Dysphoric Night every second Wednesday.
Man o' War Grille (p. 691) — the restaurant where Matty Pemulis sat over haddock on pp. 682–686.

After you read: three things

1. The first line tells you not to trust the rest. "That infamous deceptive post-seizure feeling of well-being" (p. 689) — deceptive is the narrator's word, then the whole scene runs on the feeling anyway: "righter than rain," "on the diagnostic upswing," the dignified walk. Every outside view says otherwise — the paramedic's warning, pedestrians veering from the smell, the flat aside "It's a good thing you can't see what you look like, though" (p. 690). The register is his self-flattery; read it from one step outside.

2. You know something about his destination that he doesn't. Antitoi Entertainment is "maybe the one last place" he can expect kindness or credit (p. 690). You were inside that shop on pp. 480–489; he wasn't. The scene never flags the gap — the flashback even shows you how he knows the brothers at all, as fellow hirelings in the Sheraton Commander decoy stunt. Carry what you know and let his hope play out against it.

3. The last sentence closes a loop from two scenes ago. On pp. 684–685 you watched Matty Pemulis, through the Man o' War's window, recognize Poor Tony only by the boa and the hand holding his collar shut, and register how bad he looked. Same day, same block: this scene ends inside that exact moment from the other side — Poor Tony, intent on two flimsy purse-straps ahead, "never saw his old former crewmate" (p. 692).

Written only from this scene and earlier pages. Safe to read before you start.