JANUARY MARCH
by
Tom Purdom
 

   Kevin didn’t worry about the wind when it started. To him, it was just another indication Philadelphia was enjoying a January March. Philadelphia had some of the most volatile weather in the world and the erratic weather patterns always produced at least one January March. You would get a few days of real cold, even snow, then the cold would go away for awhile and you would get two or three days of March. Weak sunlight slanted across the buildings. The air brushed you with a pleasantly stimulating chill.
   Then the wind got stronger. Kevin looked at the forecasts before he went to bed and decided tomorrow might be a bad day to ride a flying elephant up Broad Street.
   His link presented him with four items when he woke up. The first was a two sentence message from his section chief, Rikin Yarno. I’ve checked with Captain Chandara, Rikin said. She understands the weather is marginal but she’s willing to risk it.
   The second item was the weather report he had ordered before he slipped into seven hours of peaceful unconsciousness. They would be operating at the edge of their safety limits all the way up Broad Street.
   He dictated a reply to Rikin as he arranged his costume on his bed. Captain Chandara would take the risk if the wind was twice as strong. She wants to win this thing. She may be the most competitive person in the parade.
   His link voiced Rikin’s answer while he was standing in the shower yielding to the seductions of hot water and steamy air. “Rikin Yarno says quote It’s her call. She’s the one who’ll look bad if you have to abort. End quote.”
   Kevin’s parade costume was primarily a plush ankle length robe that draped over his street clothes. The headgear looked like a rolled up towel, with a neck cloth hanging down the back. A light in the front simulated an oversize ruby. Chandara and her partner were supposed to be a rani and a raja, with him as their mahout.
   Two people aimed cameras at him when he stepped onto the sidewalk. He paused beside the taxi and gave them a courteous salaam with pressed palms. Tourists were tourists. He wouldn’t have a job without tourists.