American Music - Jane Mendelsohn [16]
Like how to earn a living, he said. I don’t want to be a lawyer. You know that.
But you’re being practical. That’s not wrong.
You don’t seem concerned about being practical.
That doesn’t make me right.
You seem right to me.
They had walked out of the hall and were heading down a dim corridor. She had a little bounce in her gait that he hadn’t noticed before, like a tiny dance step in between strides. It was graceful and somewhat aristocratic. Her long coat was cinched at the waist and it swayed a bit with every step.
Are you at all practical? he asked. I mean, do you worry about everyday things? You seem so calm and unconcerned.
Of course I worry. My father is at home dying.
Now it was her turn to gaze downward, at the shiny floors, the places where their feet clicked and sent out echoes.
I’m sorry. That’s very difficult. I know you worry about him. I meant little things. The details of life.
She stopped and looked at him.
There’s not much I can do about them, is there?
Her eyes were forming a question and he wanted her to ask it but she didn’t. When she started walking again she said:
You said Pearl might be joining us. Is she coming?
No, no she couldn’t.
I see.
They were entering the Hall of Asian Mammals. The hall had been open for several years and he knew it well. He had liked to come here and stroll around with Pearl. They had stopped doing it after a while because it was a place filled with children. Now he didn’t notice the children. He and Vivian stood in front of the water buffalo not looking at it.
This used to be a special place for me and Pearl.
That must be nice, to share special places.
It is. It was.
At one time he would have rattled off all of his thoughts to Pearl about the buffalo, the water, the filigreed fish he thought he could see in the stream, the pitch of the cries of the children when they stopped and laughed in front of the gorilla diorama, the tragicomic echoing sound of those cries bursting into the otherwise hushed atmosphere like sounds heard in a real forest, a real desert. But now he did not say just anything.
Is there anyone, anyone special in your life right now? He was gazing intently at the buffalo’s habitat.
That’s a hard question, she said. Yes and no.
When she said yes and no he heard yes.
Pearl and I would love to meet him, he said.
There was a stillness between them.
You know him, she said.
He understood what she meant.
In front of the Siberian tiger he took her hand. Her face was suspended in the window glass and it looked like the tiger was crying.
Honor
I’m sorry I couldn’t talk about it the other day.
Talk about what? Milo said.
Talk about this, about what happens here.
I forgive you, he said. I don’t want to talk about it either.
He clenched and unclenched his fist. Then he said: You might have heard from the people around here, I don’t really want to talk about anything.
But you talk to me.
Not much.
Sometimes in your sleep.
He twisted his head as far as he could and cocked an eyebrow at her from the table.
Is that right?
Yes, that’s right.
I thought it was all … unspoken.
Not completely.
So what do I say?
Crazy stuff. Some scary things. Some things that make no sense.
Sounds like me.
But it doesn’t sound like you. It’s your voice but it’s like you’re in character, someone else. You talk about things like you’re there. In the past.
You must think I’m a lunatic.
I don’t.
She rubbed more oil into her hands and put her fingers on his neck.
I like it, she said. I like your stories.
His head shook a little in her hands when he laughed.
Well that makes you the lunatic.
Maybe, she said.
We both are, he said.
That sounds about right.
Have you told anyone about any of this?
No, not anyone.
Don’t. They’ll either put me on a shitload more medication or they’ll say you’ve lost your mind and fire you.
You wouldn’t like that.
No, I wouldn’t like that.
Then I won’t tell anyone.
Thanks.
She