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BACK AT HOME, MYRTLE dialed Elaine’s number. “Have you heard at all from the theater? Mr. Toucan?”
Elaine, who had a children’s TV show playing in the background, laughed and said, “No one calls this early in the morning, Myrtle. Only you. Anyone calling at odd hours calls Red’s work phone.”
Myrtle felt rather abashed. “Well, I don’t call everyone at this hour. Only Miles, who never sleeps, and you, after I’ve made sure your lights were still on and that you hadn’t fallen back asleep.”
“It’s okay, I was already up, as you knew. No hope in going back to bed with Jack around. What’s going on?”
“I was thinking,” said Myrtle in a very altruistic tone, “that surely the theater would be holding some sort of gathering to hash out what’s happened. You know, to discuss the tragedies
