looked rather good, his eyes less bruised. All those months without booze, drugs, sexâhad they been good for him? She wanted to wrap him in her arms and press against him, to bring some life back into his expression, but of course that was for Katie to do. Ursula said she would call her.
âAw, donât bother her,â Fish said of his wife. Michael went out and bought a half-gallon of tokay, and sat up and watched Fish get drunk and pass out content. Michael got mildly drunk himself. He came upstairs red-eyed, with a forlorn air. âIs he really okay?â Ursula asked sleepily. âAre you?â In the morning Katie asked the same thing, when Michael called her. Michael, tense and quiet, was, as usual, unable to say anything when it mattered.
Fish told them more stories about the Indian kid, who could whistle like thirty birds, and call deer and elk. He said there was an old prospector-type, too, who could speak four languages, including Athabascan. He told about the deer someone shot out of season, that ran up right into the compound and lay down on a bunkhouse porch and died. When Fish is in a good mood he talks very fast, rat-a-tat, like somebody on speed. It sounded like he was ready to quit talking prison storiesâhe was winding downâwhen he said bitterly, âI really asked for it, didnât I?â He recovered quickly. âIt could have been worse.â
He looked at Katie, as if Michael and Ursula werenât there. âIt wasnât like that inside, baby,â he said, ânot for me.â He took a long swig of his bottle. âIâm too old. Not pretty anymore.â
âWhat did that mean!â Ursula asked Michael as soon as they were alone.
âIf you want to know, ask Fish, or Katie,â Michael said. âIâd ask Fish, since he said it. Didnât he used to talk to you?â
Ursula blushed scarlet, surprising herself. She wasnât at all sure what Michael meant. She and Michael had never talked about her with Fish, anymore than if it was someone they never saw again. She never had said how lucky she felt, that Fish went off to Reno and threw his money away and enlisted, and she moved all her stuff downstairs to Michaelâs three weeks after. It was all blind luck, to have quick, silly choices yield good decisions. She had considered moving in with a graduate student named Delmore, but he was on a macrobiotic diet and she didnât think she could conform.
Days later Ursula realized Fish had to have meant sex. Everyone knew about rape in jail, she just hadnât let herself think of it. It made her sick to think of it, but Fish said it didnât happen to him.
Katie brought up the subject of divorce again, six months into Fishâs term. âI guess I couldnât do it while heâs there,â she said. She was thinner, she didnât come over often. She said she was working long hours. Ursula wanted to ask her about her feelings, about the years with Fish, but she sensed there were things she wouldnât want to know. And she sensed a cooler Katie, as though the opportunities for intimacy might have passed. Had Ursula been looking the other way? Had she failed Katie as friend and family, to quiet her fears about her husbandâs brother?
There was no question Fish was easier to deal with absent, but to divorce him while he was helpless? It couldnât be right. Why now? Ursula thought. It wasnât like he had hurt anyone. He had already been dealt a lot more punishment than he deserved. He had taken a little ride in somebodyâs double-parked Porsche. They were all going into the Chinese restaurant to pick up Hum Bows on a Saturday night, and there was that damned car. Once around the block. The problem was, it wasnât Fishâs first such lark. The law made a big deal of it, like Fish was a threat to the fabric of society. Maybe the judge sensed incipient anarchy. The cops were their most
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