The Trouble With Eden - Lawrence Block [151]
The hardest part was sleeping, but even that could be achieved by concentration. By mind over matter, or was it more accurate to call it mind over mind?
No never mind, she thought. No matter. No mind matter. No matter mind.
She had to choke back a giggle. She was alone, of course, and she might have treated herself to a giggle, but it was vital to maintain discipline. If you did so while alone, it was all the more easy to do so in company.
And how could you ever be absolutely certain you were alone? They could go anywhere; they could take all sorts of forms. You might well be alone but could not be sure of it, so you had to behave all the time as if they were watching. Even in sleep, even when Peter and Robin were themselves asleep.
She couldn’t steal his soul anymore while he slept. It was unsafe. But it was also unnecessary, for she had stolen back her sleep. Not always; there were nights when her most intense concentration would not make sleep come. But she was getting better and better at it, and soon she would have the knack mastered.
She left the building and walked quickly to the laundromat. The sun was glaring down, but all she had to do was tell herself not to feel the heat and it ceased to bother her. Everything was simple when you knew what to do.
She transferred the load of clothes to the dryer, put in three dimes for thirty minutes, and walked back through the heat (which she did not feel) to the Raparound. The fat swarthy waitress was the only one on duty, which suited her plans perfectly. She glanced around, recognized two people whom she knew, and greeted them perfectly—a quick word, a pleasant smile, enough enthusiasm but not too much. Then she took a table by herself, selecting one as far from the couple she knew as possible.
When the waitress came over Gretchen beamed at her. “Why, hello, Anne,” she said. “I’d like a piece of crumb cake and a cup of hot chocolate.”
“Hot chocolate? In this weather?”
“Oh, I don’t mind the heat,” she said. While she waited for her food she smoked a cigarette and considered the cleverness of the girl. Oh, she was clever; she’d been well prepared. Hot chocolate in this weather? Not clever enough, though. Not nearly clever enough.
Her order came quickly, another mark of Anne’s cleverness. “Why, thank you,” Gretchen told her. “Won’t you sit for a moment?”
“Well, I shouldn’t.”
“I’d appreciate it. And I purposely came at a time when you wouldn’t be too busy.”
“You did?”
You did? A neat trap, that one, designed to lead her down conversational detours. But she was good enough at dodging such traps.
“I’ve been wanting to tell you how much I appreciate everything you’ve done for us, Anne.”
“I really didn’t do anything.”
“Of course that little bit of difficulty is over now.”
“Oh, I know, and I’m so pleased for you.”
“For me?”
“Yes, I think it’s wonderful.”
“You perspire a great deal, don’t you, Anne?” The girl colored under her olive skin.
“It’s this heat. I don’t know what I’m gonna do if it keeps up. I almost liked the rain better.”
“Just look at you.” She smiled warmly and matched the smile with the warmth of her voice. “Sweat stains under your arms. Filthy nauseating stains under your arms.
“I—”
“Don’t you use a deodorant?”
“I’m allergic. But I don’t—”
“And your skin is so dark. Are you part nigger, Anne? That would explain a lot of things.”
The girl’s face was a study, mouth hanging open like a ruptured cow. She was on the ropes now. All that was necessary was to keep up the pressure.
“You must have nigger blood, Anne. Your last name is Tedesco, isn’t it? That means ‘German’ in Italian. That’s a very clever ruse. I’m one of the few people likely to see through it. But it’s all so hopeless, isn’t it?” The smile again, and she let the poor stupid thing gape and babble while she took a large bite of crumb cake and