The Invisible Circus - Jennifer Egan [96]
Reaching under Faith’s blouse, he felt something hard against her skin, wedged in the back of her pants, pulled it out and found himself holding a little automatic pistol. “Holy shit,” he said. The gun was warm from her skin. A .22, it looked like.
Faith seemed ready to burst, watching him hold the gun. Wolf grinned, shaking his head. He looked at the gun, then at Faith, and they made love with it right there in the bed, cold and smooth on their bare legs.
Later, Faith rummaged for the gun and held it up, turning it in the light so it made a dark shape on her face. “I’m a good shot,” she said. “My dad taught me.”
Wolf leaned on one elbow, watching her. “You won’t let me smash a bug,” he remarked. “It’s kind of hard to see you shooting people.”
Faith laughed. “It’s for self-defense.”
“People get shot in self-defense.”
“I’d never shoot it,” she said, serious now. “I’d only ever use it to scare them.”
Wolf flopped back down, his arms crossed. “I don’t know, Faith.”
She moved close to his ear. He felt her breath, the warmth of her limbs, and pulled her against him. “Wolf, I found them,” she whispered.
After dark Faith got up, pulled on her jeans and the diamond-patterned blouse so gingerly, as if the clothing were on loan. She slid the gun back down her pants, the front this time. Wolf sat up, resting his feet on the cold floor, trying to clear his head. “Wait,” he said. “You’re just—like, taking off?”
Faith crouched at his feet, her hands on Wolf’s bare knees, and looked up at him. “Listen to me,” she said.
“I’m listening.”
“You have to find a way in, Wolf. You have to. This is it.”
“We’ve said that a few times.”
“No,” Faith said, vehement. “The other times were nothing, I promise. Wolf, it’s a scene.”
“So take me there.”
“I can’t,” she said, moving away. “They’re huge, I’m one little piece. I can’t even talk to them, except for the lawyer—the other ones don’t speak English.”
Wolf shook his head. “What the hell do you do for these people?”
Errands, Faith told him. Little things. You couldn’t just go to the store when you were underground, someone might recognize you. So Faith went for them. “They need all kinds of stuff,” she explained, pulling her backpack from the closet. Then she lowered her voice. “They’re it, Wolf. And they’re planning something huge.”
He left the bed and went to her, still naked. “Baby,” Wolf said, taking hold of Faith’s elbows. “Don’t do this.”
She frowned. Wolf tried to clear his head because Faith seemed so clear; her posture, eyes, everything about her said she knew what she was doing, that it made sense. And no wonder, Wolf thought—where else had they been headed all this time? She was right, she must be right, if he just could clear his head … the gun in her pants—but when he pictured Faith holed away in some apartment running errands for people she couldn’t even talk to, Wolf found the vision so drab, desperate. As bad as everything they’d been trying to escape. “Hold on,” he told her. “Just—let’s slow this down a second.”
But Faith ignored him, counting out her traveler’s checks. “Wait,” Wolf said as she shouldered the backpack. “Faith, wait.” He moved in front of the door, not fully aware he was blocking it until the move registered in her face. When Faith tried to move past him, he held his ground.
“Look, if it’s not your thing, fine,” Faith said. “I need to split.” And she gazed at him so coldly, with such cold disappointment, Wolf felt like the enemy. It enraged him.
“I’m surprised you don’t pull your gun,” he said.
Faith just looked at him.
“Do it,” Wolf said. “You want out? Pull the gun.”
“Wolf, quit it.” She made a halfhearted effort to push his arm, his chest, but Wolf’s limbs were stone, they felt immobile even to himself. Faith seemed to droop under the heavy backpack.
“Pull the gun, come on,” Wolf said. “You know what you’re doing. So do it.”
Faith’s face tightened in anger.