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head, a hair phallus. Richard smiled at her.  Good morning, he said.
She nodded abstractedly and blinked at the sunshine.  What s wrong? she asked
him.  You didn t sleep?
 I slept enough.
 It s late. I slept too long, she said.  I m cranky. Have we eaten all the
breakfast stuff?
 I don t know, Richard said.  I could look.
 Never mind. She squinted at him suspiciously.  Something s wrong, isn t it?
Tell me.
Richard shook his head and smiled again.  I feel much better.
 Better?
 And I d like to apologize. You ve really helped me. I had a dream last night.
A very odd dream.
Her suspicion deepened.  I m glad you re feeling better, she said without
conviction.
 Want some coffee?
 No, thanks.
 You really should eat, she said over her shoulder, padding into the kitchen.
 I know, Richard said. His rapture approached giddiness; he felt some concern
that he might lose his sense of wellbeing and plunge back but the mood held
steady. He stood and entered the kitchen, seeing as if for the first time the
scuffed tile floor, the thickpainted wood cabinets and ancient plaster walls.
Nadine peeled a tangerine by the sink and chewed each segment, staring
thoughtfully
Out the window.  What about your dream? she asked.
 I dreamed about Emanuel, he said.
 Wonderful, she commented wryly.
 I remembered him doing a good thing, a very kind thing. I remembered him
helping me after Gina and Dione died.
 That s nice, Nadine said. The sharpness of her tone puzzled him. She flung
the last of the rind and pith of the tangerine into the sink, gathered up her
robe and confronted him.  I try to help you and nothing happens. Then
Goldsmith comes and it s all right.
Thanks a lot, Richard.
Richard s smile froze.  I said you d helped me. I appreciate what you ve done.
I just had to work my way through some stupidities. He shook his head.  I
felt there was a string between Goldsmith and myself. I could feel him inside
me. I m not sure if there was anything..
Her expression didn t change; a puzzled anger.
 But he isn t there now. I m not sure I believe in such things, but Goldsmith
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isn t anywhere now I can t feel him at all. The Goldsmith I knew is dead, and
that was the man I loved, the man who was good to me when things were very
hard. I think he really is dead, Nadine. Richard shook his head, aware he was
talking nonsense.
She pushed past him.  So I suppose you re all better now. No need for me. I
can go away and you ll get on with your life. She whirled and leaned forward,
face screwed into a contemptuous mask.  How many times did I ask you to make
love to me? Four, five? And you refused. I suppose now that you re feeling
better, you re up to some harmless thrusting, hm?
Richard straightened, sobered by her reaction but with his inner joy still
strong.  I m feeling much better, yes.
 Well, that s wonderful, because I feel like a..." She thrust her fist up at
the ceiling twice, could not find the word, spun on one foot and returned to
the bathroom, slamming the door.
Richard peeled another tangerine and stood by the kitchen window, inspecting
each slice, savoring the sugar and tartness. He would not let Nadine spoil
what he had found.
When she came out of the bathroom she had dressed but none of her clothes
seemed to fit properly. Her makeup caked her face, thickly and ineptly
applied; she had attempted to accentuate puffy eyes swollen from crying and
had succeeded in looking like a gargoyle.  I m glad you re feeling better,
she said, voice sweet, eyes avoiding him. She touched his shoulder and played
with his collar.  I can go now, can t I?
 If you wish, Richard said.
 Good. I m glad to have my freedom, by your kindness. She picked up her bag
and walked quickly through the front door, closing it firmly behind. He
listened to her footsteps down the walkway and stairs.
+ Where is he. Did he kill himself. Fly away to Hispaniola and commit suicide.
Don t feel a trace.
Richard shuddered. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]