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By Root 407 0

her relief, then sad with the loss of an old hope. When she used to visit him at Fortley, she’d be so giddily nervous that the words would just spill out, then all the way home she’d cringe, remembering every inane thing she’d said, prattling on about people he didn’t even know, places he’d never been to, and never once would he tell her anything about himself. She’d always felt the need to entertain him, as if she might entice him to freedom with the wonders of ordinary living. Or had she just been trying to convince herself each time that it was worth it, that thirty-day span between visits a perilous footbridge made bearable because every experience, no matter how dull or painful, could be reworked, refashioned, polished, and cut for his diversion? And what pleasure the anticipation and telling gave her compared to the flatness she would feel afterward, this same emptiness. Freedom had been a disappointment for both of them.

She asked if he needed anything. No, he said. Dennis and Lisa had brought a few things from home. She stood up. Could she check on the house for him? No. She couldn’t get in anyway: Dennis had locked everything up, he said too defensively, irritating her again. Could she water the lawn, then? It hadn’t rained all week. Things were getting awfully dry. How cruel and sadistic to goad him like this, to pick at his scabs. What about his roses? His precious roses, that’s all he cares about. The roses . . . He thought a moment. No, he answered hesitantly, they should be all right. She could water them, she said. Every day on her way home from work, she could swing by. Free as she was in her car out there in the world, where living things still needed care. Just tell her what to do—should she spray them with the hose—

“No!” he interrupted, as if it were painful to hear. If she wanted to, if she didn’t mind, that is, then she should fill the watering can and water only the base of the bush. For about a minute—he usually counted slowly to sixty. Anything else? Well, if she had time, there was a special mixture he’d made. The bottle was on the back steps, and if she could spray the whole bush once a week, he’d really appreciate it. She asked if that was the fertilizer. No, the fertilizer was in a tall can in the garage; measure out an eighth of a cup into the cap and spread the granules around the base.

“Just pour them out? That’s all I do?”

“Actually, I use the hand cultivator. It’s on a nail in the garage, and I just kind of scratch it around.” Demonstrating, he clawed the tabletop with his fingertips. “Just work the granules in a little, then water. And be sure and take some roses. The pruner’s in the garage, right next to the cultivator. The key’s under the bottom step.”

“I don’t want to cut your roses, Gordon. You worked so hard on them.”

“No, the more you cut, the more they grow. It makes them stronger.” He smiled.

“Does that work for people, too?”

“Maybe. For some people.”

“But not for you, though, right?”

“I don’t know.” He stiffened.

“Why? Why don’t you know?” Are you that numb, that dead inside?

“Because I don’t think like that. I can’t. I never have. I wouldn’t dare.”

“So in other words, this is fine. It’s just the way things are, and you don’t have a damn thing to say about it!” She didn’t want to cry.

He leaned forward and gripped the sides of the table, trembling, as if to wrench it up from the floor. “What can I do? There’s nothing I can do. Nothing. Nothing but wait.”

“You could talk to me! You could tell me what you’re thinking! What you’re feeling. Something, goddamn it!”

He stared, bitterly, as if she had demanded something vile of him. “They never should have let me out, all right, that’s what I keep thinking. That I should have stayed. At least then they’d be looking for the one that did it. I let her down both ways. First by not helping her and now by being here. You want to know how I feel? I feel like this loose gear that just kind of rattles around in space, and every now and again I crash down into someone’s world and ruin everything.”

“Gordon.” She closed her eyes.