and various elastic exercising devices. A cigar box held 21
three pens and two pencils with a dozen cream-colored 22
envelopes along with a small ream of blank sheets of 23
notepaper.
24
It seemed as if Anniston Bennet had everything he 25
needed to live in that hole for a very long time.
26
The books were all hardback. The Wealth of Nations, The S 27
Prince, the complete collection of Will and Ariel Durant’s R 28
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Story of Civilization. Maybe ninety books in all. About fif-2
teen of these were nonfiction (not including the Durants’
3
eleven volumes), and most of these were economic texts 4
and not titles that I knew. The fiction and poetry was of a 5
high quality, for the most part. I recognized The Alexan-6
dria Quartet by Durrell and The Adventures of Huckleberry 7
Finn. He had the collected works of the poet Philip Larkin 8
and Four Quartets by T. S. Eliot. Moby Dick was there and 9
a book called Vineland. He also had the Bible and Koran.
10
He had one very large atlas that didn’t have any publica-11
tion information in it. I got the feeling that it was privately 12
published and contained specialized geographic informa-13
tion. Many of the maps were color coded with initials that 14
made no sense to me and were not explained in any table.
15
They were all books that I would’ve liked to have read 16
at some time in the past. I mean that I would’ve liked to 17
know what was in the Bible and the history of the world 18
so when I had arguments with Clarance I could sound 19
smart. But I can’t concentrate on that kind of reading. My 20
mind just drifts when there are too many facts or tough 21
sentences on the page. That’s one of the reasons why I fi-22
nally left college. As long as classes were lectures, I picked 23
up most of what I needed by ear. But as soon as I had to 24
read some heavy text, I was in deep water.
25
There were two sets of powder-blue pajamas decorated 26
by red dashes at all angles to one another. All in all it was 27 S
like a summer camp for a cracked adult.
28 R
All except for that cage.
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■
■
1
2
Three days before Anniston Bennet was due to arrive, I 3
received a telegram. It had been slipped under my front 4
door sometime the day before.
5
6
Mr. Blakey,
7
After numerous attempts to reach you by telephone, 8
we are contacting you by this method to confirm the ap-9
pointment and to ask you to meet the client’s train at 10
12:04 a.m. Please confirm your agreement by calling the 11
number on the card that the client gave you at your first 12
meeting.
13
14
There was no signature, but of course none was necessary.
15
I thought the secrecy was strange, but then again Bethany 16
had told me about rich people and how odd they were.
17
It took me the entire day to find that card. I turned the 18
house inside out. Finally I found it in the upstairs ham-19
per, in the pocket I had put it in after calling Bennet the 20
first time.
21
“Hello,” said a familiar voice. “You have reached the 22
Tanenbaum and Ross Investment Strategies Group” —
23
the click — “Mr. Bennet” — the next click — “is not in at 24
the moment but will return your message at the earliest 25
possible time. Please leave your name and number after 26
the signal.”
S 27
“I’ll be there at midnight,” I said and hung up.
R 28
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And I was there, in the lamp-lit parking lot, at midnight.
4
An obese family — the Benoits, mother and children —
5
was also there, waiting. The Benoit family had come 6
down to the Harbor from Montreal at the turn of the 7
century. I don’t remember ever having spoken to Raoul, 8
the father, or any of his clan, but I knew them because 9
they were part of my community. Trudy, the mother, 10
looked at me nervously, a black man at midnight and the 11
train not in yet.
12
“Hello, Mrs. Benoit,” I hailed. “You meeting Raoul?”
13
I said it to put her at ease. It worked too. She smiled 14
and nodded. She didn’t remember my name. Maybe she 15
couldn’t distinguish between black men. But it didn’t 16
matter what white people saw when they looked at me.
17
Why would I care?
18
The train came in and a few people got off. Most of 19
them got into cars. Three taxis rolled up from the colored 20
company that Clarance dispatched for. The few travelers 21
who did not have cars climbed into the cabs. Raoul 22
Benoit, a thin and dapper man wearing a silver-gray suit, 23
tried to get his arms around his wife and failed. He kissed 24
his children and herded them, like so many beach balls, 25
toward a blue station wagon.
26
“Hey, Charles,” a man said. Behind me Clarance had 27 S
driven up in a cab. In the back there were three passen-28 R
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friend. All of the passengers were white. The riders looked 1
uncomfortable. One man in the backseat checked his 2
watch.
3
“You drivin’ now?” I asked.
4
“Athalia needs braces, so I’m drivin’ three nights a week.
5
How you doin’?”
6
“Fine,” I said, looking over my shoulder.
7
“You need a ride?”
8
“No.”
9
“What you doin’ out here?” he asked. “Meetin’ some-10
body?”
11
“Can we get going, driver?” the woman next to 12
Clarance asked, barely restraining her impatience.
13
“Must be the next train,” I said vaguely.
14
“Next train’s tomorrow,” Clarance informed me.
15
“Oh.”
16
“Driver,” a man in the backseat said.
17
“What?” Clar
ance’s tone was sharp.
18
In the darkness, on the platform next to the station 19
sign, I saw the silhouette of a small man.
20
“We need to get home,” the passenger was saying.
21
“Well if you can’t wait a minute while I find out how 22
my friend is, then you could walk.” That brought silence.
23
“You go on, Clarance,” I said. “I got my car. I can drive 24
home.”
25
“I tried to call you,” Clarance said.
26
“I been thinkin’,” I replied.
S 27
“You wanna get together?”
R 28
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“I’ll call you next week,” I said.
2
Clarance looked at me a moment. There was concern 3
in his face. He was a good man, and we had been friends 4
as long as either one of us could remember. But there was 5
no way to talk to me. He shrugged.
6
“See ya,” he said and then drove off.
7
As he left, Anniston Bennet approached from the plat-8
form. I stood my ground, waiting.
9
“Good evening,” he said.
10
The air was cool but my windbreaker was enough to 11
keep the chill off. There were moths floating around the 12
floodlights, and I detected the barely distinguishable mo-13
tion of bats feasting on the fluttering bugs in the hovering 14
darkness.
15
I took a deep breath and prepared myself. I wanted to 16
start this thing with Bennet on the right foot. I never had 17
a tenant before and didn’t want to be taken advantage of.
18
Everything mattered. The fact that I waited for him to 19
walk to me, that I didn’t offer to take his satchel. All he 20
carried was that small leather bag. I wondered what he 21
was planning to wear for two months.
22
“Mr. Blakey,” he said.
23
“Mr. Bennet.”
24
“I tried to call,” he said. “But there was no answer.”
25
“I know. I got the telegram. Did you get my message?”
26
He shrugged his shoulders, indicating that he was there 27 S
because he received my message. That would have been a 28 R
good moment for me to take his bag, but I did not.
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“My car is over there.” I indicated the brown Dodge.
1
We made our way. Bennet threw his bag in the backseat 2
and we were off.
3
“Why did you need me to pick you up?” I asked, turn-4
ing onto the highway. “You know we didn’t say anything 5
about you paying for a limo service.”
6
“I want to be circumspect about this retreat, Mr.
7
Blakey. No one knows where I’m going. Part of the idea is 8
that I am to be kept from everything in my world —
9
completely. I don’t want my car in your driveway or some 10
driver who remembers where he dropped me off.”
11
“That sounds illegal, Mr. Bennet. I don’t want to be in-12
volved in anything that’s against the law.”
13
He looked at me and laughed silently. Then he said, 14
“Not illegal. No. You see, in my world I’m pretty well 15
known, and some people think that I’m important — for 16
their money. I don’t want anybody finding me. This time 17
is my own.”
18
Off the side of the highway, I spotted three deer, their 19
luminescent eyes transfixed by my high beams. We sped 20
past them. I thought that at least they were witnesses to 21
our passage.
22
“What were you laughing about?” I asked.
23
“Ask me later.” Bennet sat back in the passenger’s seat, 24
letting out a deep sigh. It could have been pleasure or the 25
last breath of a dying man.
26
S 27
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“Can you pull into your garage?” Bennet asked me as we 2
drove up my gravel driveway. “I mean, if we’re going to 3
see this secrecy thing through, we might as well do it right.”
4
I almost sneered, but then I remembered Miss Little-5
neck. She was probably sitting on her front porch, smok-6
ing a cigarette and spying on the night. I wasn’t sure if I 7
wanted the neighborhood to know about my tenant, so I 8
opened the garage door and drove in. Bennet and I exited 9
out the back door of the garage and down through the 10
hatch to the cellar. I snapped on the light and immedi-11
ately Bennet began to inspect my work. I had unpacked 12
and constructed a small red plastic table and chair. These 13
seemed to satisfy him. There was also a futon that I had 14
unfurled.
15
“Help me with these,” he said, dragging the table and 16
chair toward the small door of the cage.
17
He crawled into the cage, and with a little effort, I 18
passed the furniture in to him.
19
He arranged the pieces like a small bedroom. I handed 20
him the clothes and stationery and a few other small 21
items.
22
“Pass the crapper,” he then said. I dragged the oval-23
shaped cylinder to the door, and he strained over it until 24
it was against the back wall of the cage.
25
“Now all we need is to put the pump back here and 26
we’re in business,” he said.
27 S
He stood up then and approached me. Looking at him 28 R
through the diamonds of the cage, I thought not for the 118
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first time that the structure might bear more than a re-1
semblance to a prison cell.
2
“Have you figured it out yet?” he asked me as if reading 3
my mind.
4
“What?”
5
Again the silent laugh.
6
“What?” I asked again.
7
“This is my prison,” he said. “And you are my warden 8
and my guard.”
9
“Are you crazy?” The sentence just came out of my 10
mouth. It wasn’t really a question.
11
“You like to drink, don’t you, Charles?” he asked. “Why 12
don’t you go up to the house and get us some liquor? I’ll 13
explain to you wh
y I’m not crazy and why this is impor-14
tant for both of us.”
15
It was a request bordering on a gentle command. There 16
was no polite answer except to go get a bottle and two 17
glasses. I wanted to be out of his presence for a minute.
18
Anniston Bennet was a man who made you do what he 19
wanted. He seemed reasonable and generous and knowl-20
edgeable — not mad. But what he was saying made me 21
want to run.
22
I walked away instead. Up toward the house and the 23
cheap bottles of whiskey in the pantry, where I first heard 24
Bethany’s cries of passion and where my parents mur-25
mured deep secrets that made me feel at ease.
26
S 27
R 28
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14 C
“Let’s just say . . .” Anniston Bennet was saying. I had 15
brought my cheap whiskey and two squat glasses that had 16
been on the shelf since before my mother could remem-17
ber. I was sitting on the stairs and he had pulled out his 18
red chair to join me. “. . . that I’m a criminal wishing to 19
pay for my crimes.”
20
“I don’t get it,” I said. “Why don’t you just turn your-21
self in to the police if you want to go to jail?”
22
“I don’t recognize any organized form of law enforce-23
ment, or government for that matter, as valid,” he stated 24
simply. He might have been a prime minister or anar-25
chist. He could have even been some advanced form of 26
alien life, looking down on humanity as we might look 27 S
on a mob of ants. “But even if I did, there is no crime that 28 R
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laws having to do with money. But I would never allow 1
the hypocrites on our benches to stand judgment over 2
me.”
3
“I still don’t get it,” I said, downing my glass in frustra-4
tion and refilling it with the gratitude of a full bottle.
5
“What does my basement have to do with all that? What 6
do I have to do with it?”
7
“Everything about us is random,” Bennet said. “Maybe 8
the universe has laws, but they aren’t concerned about 9
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