Chris was thinking about settling down, because it seemed to be the thing to do. Here he was, approaching thirty, and had not lived in the same place for more than one year in many, many years. That was all the fault of his intractable charisma. Everywhere he lived he made new friends, and the friends of his roommates begged him to come and live with them, to make their homes the centers of attention for a change. They offered him the best room, the lowest rent, all sorts of percs, if only he'd move in with them, and so he usually did, and stayed until the next great offer came along. In this fashion he'd lived practically rent free from Seattle to L.A. to Portland to San Francisco. Along the way he had gathered an immense collection of contacts. He had always wondered what he was going to do with all of them. It seemed like maybe the time had come.
He was currently living in the nice front room of a railroad flat by the park. Among his many roommates were a lawyer, an actress, a financial consultant, and a civil engineer. As soon as Chris walked into the house the others, who up until then had been moping around the living room, all gathered in the kitchen to see what they could offer him for supper. As he had anticipated, Karen (the actress) had stocked up on pork chops and so she won the day. Everyone else pitched in with drinks, table setting, and asking Chris for his opinion on various matters which came up that day. He was glad to oblige.
Frank, the banker, was convinced that Chris would like to play basketball that evening at the park, and was disappointed when Chris declined. Joe, the lawyer, thought he might like to see the new Pig Glut movie instead (Pig Glut Three, the Fattening, had just opened at the Wharfeum), but Chris was oddly not in the mood for that treat either. After Karen's blackened chops, Chris wanted nothing more than to visit his sweet Laurie, but she was trekking in the Himalayas, so that was out of the question. He then considered phoning Tom, but remembered that Tom didn't have a phone. As a last resort, he settled on Sidney, the engineer's, plan to walk up the street for ice cream cones, even though it was cold and foggy outside.
Along the way he thought about the spirit of the age thing. He asked Sidney what she thought it meant. Talking loudly in public places. How was that going to change the world? Sidney was certain that Tom had been joking.
"He's just toying with you again", she said.
"Again?" Chris was not aware of any previous toying attempts.
"Afraid so", Sidney repeated. "Like the time he taunted you about redheads. Said you'd have a handful of 'em someday, and you don't even have red hair."
"Laurie does", he replied.
"Wasn't that before you knew her?"
"Nope", Chris told her. "I knew her first, then him."
"Oh", Sidney muttered. "Never mind then."
She wasn't any help with the spirit of the age. She thought the spirit of the age could be captured with a camera if you found the right thing to take a picture of. She didn't know what that thing was, but if she saw it, and recognized it, and had a camera, and remembered to take a picture of it. Well then.
Joe, who'd come along for the walk even though he was allergic to ice cream and fog, was sneezing happily enough and contributed the thought that perhaps the spirit of the age was available at the local liquor store. It might be a kind of schnapps, he said.
Both Sidney and Joe had to move their little legs to keep up with Chris' long strides, one on each side of him hustling to stay with the pack. It was an odd thing, this charisma he had. He felt a little guilty about it, because he hadn't done a darned thing to develop it or earn it, and yet there it was, doing him favors all the time. He was like a light bulb in motion leading a flock of moths behind him. One of these days, he told himself, I'll make something of it. But he had no idea of what or how or when that would be.
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