A Million Little Pieces - James Frey [92]
Leonard sits carefully and quietly watching and listening. Occasionally Leonard asks Bobby questions about who he claims to know and how he claims to know them. I can’t tell if Leonard knows all the people he and Bobby are talking about, but I can tell that Leonard is sizing him up. I don’t think he’s all that impressed.
Eventually I get tired of Bobby and his bullshit and I snicker at a comment he makes about the amount of money he earns, which he claims to be in the millions each year. He stops talking and he stares at me and he asks me what the fuck I think is so funny. I stare back and I tell him that I find his lies amusing and Miles speaks for the first time since the breakfast began and he says they certainly are. Bobby, like all Liars confronted, is instantly defensive and instantly mad. He asks who the fuck I am and where the fuck do I get off accusing him. I tell him I’m no one and I get off because I have decided that I do. He tells me that he’s not the kind of man to let his honor be disrespected in that way and that I best retract my statement or face the consequences of it and the image of him trying to do something to me, all three hundred fat-ass pounds of him jiggling toward me in a fit of primal rage, is humorous. I laugh at him and he stands and he asks me if I want to go come on you little Punk let’s go right now and I stand and I say sure, let’s go right now. He looks toward Lincoln and Keith, who are eating a few tables away, and he says you’re lucky they’re here or I’d kick your ass. I laugh at him and I pick up my tray and I walk away.
I put my tray on the conveyor. As I turn around, I bump into Lilly. She drops her tray and it hits the floor and there’s a mess and she bends over to clean it up and I bend over to help her. As I reach for an empty coffee cup, she slides her hand across my hand and I can feel a piece of folded paper within her hand. As she slides it away the piece of paper stays. Just like a drug deal on a Street Corner. Two hands exchanging a small folded piece of paper in what looks like a harmless gesture. Her hand hitting my hand. The piece of paper stays.
We pick up a plate and an empty cereal bowl and a fork and a knife and a spoon. We put them on her tray and as she puts her tray on the conveyor and I walk away. Just like on the Street Corner, I want whatever is in or on the piece of paper and I want it immediately. Just like on the Street Corner, I know I have to wait till I’m alone. Just like on the Street Corner, I know I shouldn’t have it.
I put the piece of paper in the front pocket of my pants and I go to the Lecture Hall and I find a seat in the back row. I am early and the Hall is nearly empty. I reach into my pocket and I pull out the piece of paper. Just like on the Street Corner, my hands are shaking and my heart is pounding, my eyes won’t focus I have to concentrate to make them focus, if I don’t get whatever is in there and get it fast I’m going to go fucking crazy. My hands are shaking. I unfold it. There is nothing inside, though I’m not sure if I was expecting something inside. If there had been drugs, I don’t know what I would have done with them. Part of me would have taken them immediately and with great need, part of me would have run to the nearest toilet to get rid of them. I don’t know what I would have done.
I turn the paper over and there are words. I can see words I need to concentrate focus be calm enough to read the words I can read them. They say meet me in our Clearing at four. I read them again. Meet me in our Clearing at four. I read them over and over and they say the same thing over and over. Meet me in our Clearing at four. My hands are shaking shaking and my heart is beating beating and my eyes won’t focus I have to concentrate to make them focus. Meet me in our Clearing at four. Again and again. Again and again.
Patients start trickling into the Lecture Hall. I carefully fold the piece of paper and return it to its place in my pocket. I sit staring straight