Is it big enough, Richard said behind her.
He had spent the afternoon on a cloud, and finally seeing his wife smile, after the face she’d been pulling since his return, was worth its weight in chocolates.
A bit more and he might even have forgotten the bargain he’d struck. He’d regained confidence in his lucky star—which had faded in the black sky above his head—and once again felt in good form.
Now go take a gander in the garage, he said.
When he’d opened his eyes, early that morning, his first thought had been that he was on the edge of a cliff, the very edge, with no money, no car, and in deep, deep shit. And now this. This sudden brightness, this improbable miracle. How fast the wind could turn. Fill utter darkness with light.
Mona thinks it’s cool, he called out, turning on the TV.
Try not to wrap it around a tree, she answered from the garage.
She went out early for her yoga class. Richard was disappointed that she didn’t sit with him on the couch, in front of their new set: the euphoria he’d been feeling since his situation had turned around, the warmth coursing through his entire body, was leaving him aroused.
Okay, Richard, but it can wait until tomorrow. Or even tonight, if I don’t get home too late. And besides, Mona’s here, just down the hall. She might get up for some water or something. I won’t be able to keep from thinking about it. And anyway, I pay for those classes. I didn’t sign up for nothing.
She was very fond of her night classes. Her legs and back felt better after the day’s tensions. Her mind, too. She parked in front of the health club and went the rest of the way on foot. The air was prickly. She walked fast and her breath steamed. There were still traces of salt on the sidewalks.
She sat opposite him in one of those bars with padded vinyl booths where they would meet. It was no doubt the first time he’d seen her in a tracksuit, hair uncoiffed and no makeup; she had done it on purpose. She thought for a second of Richard, the interest he’d shown in her five minutes earlier, but ultimately that was all men thought about—that wasn’t why she was there.
The bouquet of flowers lying on the bench hadn’t escaped her notice.
But that was just it: it had to stop. The flowers, the phone calls, the texts. They’d slept together only about half a dozen times. His name was Vincent, but she’d never called him by his first name. He was young, they’d never had a real conversation, he didn’t count.
Listen, she said. It’s all because of fracking. The price of oil collapsed. They shut down his platform earlier than expected.
Just like that. Overnight.
Yeah, whatever. In any case, we can’t see each other anymore. Don’t try to call me, don’t send me anything. Let’s not make a big deal out of it. Trust me. He was in Special Forces for years. I don’t need to draw you a picture. I’m not into living in fear, and I have no desire to keep looking over my shoulder. I don’t want any of that.
So what do you want.
She pulled back from the table, smiling, surprised. She hadn’t expected anything so direct.
That’s kind of a personal question, isn’t it.
I’m curious.
She looked at him for a moment, then grabbed her bag and left without a word.
The night was dark, the street deserted. He caught up with her in front of a tattoo parlor whose sign was blinking red on the sidewalk. He grabbed her arm to make her stop.
You don’t even know what you want, he barked. That’s what the problem is.
Who said there’s a problem, she replied. Not with you, in any case.
Vincent’s face brightened. That’s what I was waiting for, he said. It’s about time you told me something real.
She played for time, feeling vaguely guilty.
Fair enough. I’m sorry. It’s not what you want that matters, it’s what you can get. There’s your answer. Now let me go.
She resumed walking.
Cut all ties. Not a chance, he said between clenched teeth.
Without slowing down, she cast a sidelong glance at him. One thing you should learn, she said, is women hate guys who cling.
They turned at the corner with the Toyota dealership and arrived in front of her club.
You can’t stop me from seeing you, he insisted. I’ll come with my dog. I’ll make an appointment.
You wouldn’t.
That, and other things I haven’t thought of yet.
She stared at him once more, with an intensity that nailed him to the spot, then turned on her heels and disappeared inside. She sat in the locker room a moment before getting into her outfit. Like it or not, nothing had been settled. In the lotus position, a moment later, in a discreet aroma of essential oils and slightly senile New Wave music, she wondered whether she’d have to kill him.
FINGER
Richard unloaded the full story on Dan a few days later. About the delivery he’d have to make, the small advance he’d received, the Alfa, etc.
Dan was sitting in the grass, drying in the sun, blinking, arms hugging his bent knees. He shook his head.
He’d been calmly watching the three women below diving off a boulder, and Richard had just yanked him back to reality, on the dark side.
Count me out, he finally blurted.
I can drive a car without you, Richard huffed. I’ll be fine.
Dan bit into an apple. We always took the time to think it through, he said without looking at Richard. We weighed the risks before taking the plunge. We didn’t go in with just anybody, we weren’t that stupid.
We stayed alive, that’s what we gained. We didn’t gain anything else. We came home naked and empty-handed, and that’s it. I’d rather have a dangerous life than a shitty one, I’ll say it once and for all.
Sparrows were fighting over crumbs from their picnic. Dan looked over at the women coming out of the water. Anyway, there’s something I have to talk to you about, Richard added as they came up. But no rush. Smile.
Dan didn’t really feel like smiling after what he’d just heard. You didn’t have to be psychic to guess that Richard had gotten mixed up in a sordid affair, nor omniscient to predict he’d do just as he pleased, that nothing could turn him away from the twisted path he’d decided to follow.
He lay back and closed his eyes. They couldn’t reform Richard. Those who had tried had come back with head hung low. Nath was the only one (and even then) who had some influence over him and managed to obtain a few paltry results—like getting him to chew with his mouth closed, trim his nails once in a while, not say fuck at the drop of a hat, change his underwear every day—after eighteen years of marriage.
The hardest thing was trying to protect people from themselves, from their ignorance and their folly. Most didn’t want to hear it. There came a moment when action was pointless, when feelings were pointless, and God knew that Richard was one of the rare individuals who really mattered to him.
Still, the sun felt good on his skin, a first real springtime sun that had inspired the girls to improvise this picnic on the edge of a hidden lake in the middle of the woods—at less than fifteen minutes’ drive, the five of them crammed into the Alfa, the three women screaming when Richard took a bend in the road at top speed, after which he turned around with a huge grin and asked how ya doing girls, with a special wink for Mona. The water was cold but it was the best water in the world, limpid, sparkling, and oh my friends, that staggering blue sky, the different shades of green in the jumble of trees, the birds soaring in flocks.
Dan opened his eyes when he heard Mona shriek. A wasp had stung her. The afternoon was dragging a bit. Richard was making phone calls off to one side. It was turning chilly. Marlene lit a cigarette and signaled for Mona to come closer. Nath was changing out of her bathing suit. Dan saw this kind of tableau, this biblical scene, in his dreams when they were on a mission, in the hellhole.
Mona had wanted to join them for the film and he and Marlene had readily agreed, but now her foot was swollen like a pumpkin. The reasonable thing wasn’t the most fun, and Dan, to console her, said if it’s okay with your dad, I’ll take you one evening this week, doesn’t matter if I know it by heart.
Why did you say that, Richard said with a smile. Why did you say if it’s okay with your dad. What’s wrong with you. She spent an entire week sleeping at your place.
I know. But you weren’t here, and now you are, so I’m asking your permission. I don’t see what the problem is. If I were in your shoes, I’d rather the guy ask—for permission, that is.
What guy. The guy is you.
Mona fidgeted on her chair and told them to quit it.
Dan was about to see the film for the fourth time, but his pleasure was undiminished and he felt perfectly relaxed. Marlene’s presence at his side didn’t bother him, had stopped bothering him some time ago, for no other reason than he was starting to get used to her and didn’t find her as invasive, not to say as much of a pain in the ass, as he had at first.
No matter that she spilled half her beer on his knees and had trouble climbing over the seats to change in back and wrap herself in her beach towel. That was Marlene and you had to take her as she was. Nath had painted a portrait of her sister so disadvantageous that the most patient man in the world would have kept shy of her.
But she wasn’t as slow on the uptake as Nath made her sound. It was really overdone, he felt, really reductive.
While she climbed back into the front seat by the shortest and not least acrobatic path, he rolled down his window and ordered some more beers and two bags of popcorn from an old man who walked up and down the rows of cars pushing a refrigerator cart and wearing a little paper beanie from which a white lock of hair escaped onto his forehead, which he brushed aside with an absent hand while the other hand gave back change—a virtuoso performance.
His arms laden, Dan turned to Marlene and they looked at each other a moment, motionless, then he quickly started lining up his purchases on the shelf between them. It was now pitch black out, the film hadn’t started yet, but a short about the building of the Great Wall of China diffused a flickering, candle-like light in the passenger compartment.
Oh, you know, she said, I stopped eating popcorn a long time ago. I almost choked to death once.
I’m not surprised.
I know what you think of me. I don’t hold it against you.
I meant it’s easy to swallow one of those things the wrong way. Anyway, I don’t think anything bad about you.
That’s nice of you to say.
He shoved a handful of popcorn in his mouth and looked away.
You’re so different, you and Richard.
He nodded. A couple was smooching in the next car.
Personally, she resumed, I don’t have any friends. I never have. I must not be right for anybody.
The film was about to begin, but he looked at her again.
I drive people away, she continued.
He remained silent, not knowing what to answer. She ended up reaching out an uncertain hand and brushing his cheek. He choked back his surprise, tried to pay attention to the screen while Bill Pullman dragged morosely on his cigarette and the speaker vibrated.
Are you here, Dan, are you here with me, she whispered.
He loosened his grip on the steering wheel and lit a cigarette of his own. It was often the best thing to do.
Marlene took the opportunity to draw closer and rested her head on his shoulder. He put his arm around her and continued to smoke serenely, as if they had slid into warm water in the heart of a deep forest. A veil of fog blurred the windows and they sat there without moving, for several intoxicating minutes, breathing shallowly.
It’s so unexpected, she said, pressing against him. So sudden.
Dan’s love life was nonexistent. His sex life was hardly more than a few dead-end hookups that sufficed for both parties and regular visits to porno sites. And so distrust mixed with curiosity in his mind, which was so overtaxed just then that it turned in slow motion. Of the film, to which he was no longer paying the slightest attention, all that now reached him was Badalmenti’s haunting soundtrack which methodically undercut everything.
By the time he became aware of Marlene edging closer to increase their surface of bodily contact, she was already stretching a nude leg across him and strewing his neck with small damp kisses.
He decided to react. No longer worrying what would happen if they let go, he kissed her full on the mouth and slid a finger into her pussy.
HORNETS
As she told it, the last satisfying sexual relations she’d known went back an eternity. She only kept a distant memory that she no doubt embellished the farther away it grew, and Dan listened with a distracted ear as dawn rose and slowly dispersed the shadows in the room. It was the first time a woman had spent the night there, and this resulted in some disorder—scattered clothes, tangled sheets, used Kleenexes, bedside rug flipped over—which was rather disturbing.
What are you thinking of, she asked.
Smiling, Marlene was straddling him, in a dominant position, sated. Rid of her awful glasses, hair undone, breasts forward, he discovered her in a new light, frankly desirable. Seeing that he was still a little hard, she thought she might suck him off but he’d reached his limit, he was empty and he amiably declined her offer.
He got out of bed, quickly gathered up everything lying around, and hightailed it into the bathroom.
He hadn’t expected her to come join him in the shower.
He remained nonplussed a second, then moved over to make room for her, forcing himself to smile, and when she helped herself to his shampoo, his liquid soap, his bath mitt, his personal hygiene gel, and he had to let her rinse herself off first, which lasted a good ten minutes, he wondered whether it had been a mistake to bring her here, whether he would regret it once he was past the euphoria of sexual novelty.
He relaxed somewhat when it crossed his mind that at this hour, since his neighbor and the neighbor’s entire family never missed Sunday Mass, there was no danger of running into them when he and Marlene went outside.
Still, it was best not to delay, not invite criticism, not give people an image of him as some kind of dissolute maniac. By now he couldn’t wait to bring Marlene home and come back to straighten up.
They had gotten almost no rest, but she pointed out, as he drove in silence through the still empty neighborhoods, that he ground his teeth in his sleep.
Could be, he said with a vague shrug.
But it’s not really a problem, she hastened to add.
As she was about to get out of the car, seeing that he didn’t lean toward her or loosen his grip on the wheel, she again caressed his cheek. It’s all good, she said in a gentle voice, flashing him a luminous smile.
Fear, blood, and suffering weren’t the only things he’d known, but no matter how much he washed and scrubbed, they never left him, always came back, always ended up coloring the rest; a cloud always passed in front of the sun and the brightness faded, the shadows stretched over him and imprisoned him. He was used to it. In some ways, he thought of himself as already dead. Marlene, or whoever, could do nothing about it.
Those who had spent time in hell never left it. Always alone, crippled by debts, half crazy. They laid flowers on graves, stuffed themselves full of meds, collected their pensions, terrorized their wives and children. He stopped on the way home to buy a few things. Generic br
ead, Pop-Tarts, hamburger, sale items, household products. Parking in front of his house, he let the engine idle and closed his eyes for a moment before shutting it off. He took a deep breath. In an atmospheric blend of cum, beer, stale tobacco, and a soupçon of vanilla from Marlene’s underarm deodorant.
He set down the shopping bag in the kitchen and returned to his car with a rag and some window cleaner, as well as a pack of wipes to rub down the seats. The sky was blue, the street bathed in a suffocating calm. He went at it with the ardor of a man possessed, aired out the vehicle, emptied the ashtray into the gutter, gathered up one by one the pieces of popcorn that had escaped in the heat of the action, slid the seats forward to shake out the floor mats, and froze an instant when he discovered Marlene’s small pale-pink panties, which she had promptly discarded in the back seat after the incident.
He hesitated before picking them up, enveloped by a wave of warmth that shot through his brain like a bolt.
It was made of a silky, almost animate material, with a small black bow embroidered on the front and a reinforced lining in the crotch. He had already seen others like it, had already felt the emotion they could provoke, their extraordinary power of abstraction. He scrunched it in the palm of his hand, opened his fingers and was watching it blossom like a flower, release its scent into his nostrils, when someone tapped on the glass behind him.
He immediately shoved the undergarment into his pocket and turned toward the neighbor standing on the sidewalk, who signaled him to lower his window.
To become an ordinary citizen again, it was not enough to sort your trash, respect the local customs, keep your nose clean, pay your taxes. No, it was harder than that, an unattainable Grail, apparently nothing was ever enough. Richard, in his place, would no doubt have smashed the neighbor’s face in, but Dan waited for him to finish while looking elsewhere, the trees, the empty sky, the man’s wife and children returning home in single file, a young cat stalking atop a wall.
I like my city, I pick up my trash, the dentist concluded.
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