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Heavens. I hope not.
The man s smile thinned. We are not thugs. We are not fanatics. We are
vitamin supplements to justice. Please do not misunderstand my visit.
Never. His fear put him on the edge of giddiness. + Suicidal.
I doubt you ve done anything wrong in this case, the man said. We can t
always know the souls of those around us. But I warn you: if you do hear about
Goldsmith, if you learn where he is and do not tell the pd or your local
chapter for society s sake, that would be very wrong indeed. You would hurt a
lot of people who are hungry for justice.
They ve hired you, contracted you? Richard asked v hoarse coughing
swallowing back the roughness.
Nobody hires us, the man said calmly. He returned the door and nodded
politely at Nadine. Thank you for your time.
You re welcome, she said small mouselike. The opened Richard s door stepped
out of Richard s apartment and walked down the long balcony to the stairs.
I m going, Nadine said, spinning suddenly and running to grab her few
clothes toothbrush handbag from the and bathroom. Unbelievable, she said.
Unbelievable.
You.
What about me? Richard asked, still stunned.
They re after you.
I don t know why!
You defended him! You re bin friend! Christ, I should have known. Anybody
silky with Goldsmith. Christ! Selectors. I m going.
He did not try to stop her. In all his life he had never been visited by a
Selector before, had never attracted their attention.
Call the pd, Nadine said as she reached for the doorknob. Her body arched as
if it would take substantial puli to open the door. The door swung free and
she tilted off balance for a moment then glared at him. Call the pd or do
something.
Miserable moaning softly to himself Richard went to his bedroom and lay back
on the bed, turning away from the streaks of dried fluid at the edge of sheet
where Nadine
had sat up after they had made love. He stared up at the earthquake cracked
plaster of the old ceiling. + How many people have died since that ceiling was
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put in or the wood how many millions have suffered horribly even since we made
love last night hundreds per minute around the world punish them all.
He stilled, slowing his rapid breath. One hand gripped the sheet. He turned
his head to one side neck tight corded, drew his mouth into a horrid smile and
sat up abruptly, one fist pounding the bed rhythmically, looked around the
apartment stood up and twisted his upper body threw head back raised fists
shook them at the ceiling mewed faintly the mew turned into a howl swung his
arms around stamped his foot crouched eyes showing dear blue through a mask
hair before them gray and stringy he danced pranced around the bed lifted
fists stumbled back at the bed stood again kicked the mattress with bare foot
ran into his small living room with a sudden pumping of long skinny bare legs
howled reached for an old vase full of dead flowers swung scummy water
glittering in a silver crescent fingers released the vase it whirled on its
long axis parallel to the floor across the living room into the kitchen hit
cabinet doors beneath the sink shattering brown dried flowers fanning out in a
clump on the floor still circled by the neck.
Richard turned to the bedroom and leaned forward, walking and stumbling until
he lay back on the bed again cyde complete nothing accomplished but the most
primitive useless release. He sucked back his own inadequacy and helplessness
in negative sobs.
Then, falling silent, with sudden calm deliberation he rolled over and reached
for the drawer handle on his nightstand, pulled it open and removed a
notebook, lay back, rolled over again groping for a pen found one behind the
lamp, dusty, rolled the dust on the sheets near the dried fluid stains
thinking them similar in color and meaning and hoisted himself onto the
pillows. Opened the notebook to a fresh page; the last entry two years before.
Dry empty pages dry empty years in which he had written nothing.
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