Read Online Heart and Soul by Sally Mandel - Free Book Online Page A

disappeared into the wild. That brief, featherweight connection between us, a moment’s gesture of trust, had brought tears to my eyes. At David’s confession, I felt the same sense of privilege.
    â€œThanks,” I said to David, for once keeping my questions to myself.
    He stood up and stretched. “Ready to get back to work, Bess?”
    No, I thought. I’d rather sit here on the grass until I rot and turn to muck. It’s just never going to get any better. “Sure,” I said, clambering to my feet and arching my stiff back.
    We played for another four hours. It was real concentrated effort, and I was zonked afterward. That day, like the ones that followed, I kept hoping David would ask me out to dinner or even to stick around for a while after our sessions, but he never did. This went on for three weeks while I stalled my bosses, roller-skated into customers at my night job, and wondered what the fuck I was doing with my life. After all, from this I wasn’t making tips and Angie wasn’t building up any cash in her trust fund. But David just assumed I’d be there the next day, and I couldn’t resist him. I rationalized my weakness by telling myself I was gaining priceless musical experience. The truth was, playing music with David Montagnier was like a drug and I was hooked.
    Not that David was hanging around his apartment in the evenings mooning about me. They have a TV in the bar at Brittany’s and I caught a glimpse of him coming out of a movie premier with some half-naked babe stuck to his hip like Velcro. Her boobs were cannonballs, compliments of silicone. I spent the rest of my shift forgetting people’s orders while I tried to figure out how to drop David the bulletin that mine were the real thing.
    Anyway, that last night I had just gotten to sleep about two A.M . when the phone rang. I guess I was dreaming about David because I thought it was him. It took me a second to recognize Pauline’s voice.
    â€œBess. Wake up. Listen to me, honey. There’s been an accident.”
    I switched on the light and tried to shake my brain into consciousness.
    â€œYour dad’s been hurt in a fire.”
    â€œWait. Pauls, is this something you know or something you know ?” In my half-asleep state, I wasn’t being very clear, but Pauline got it.
    â€œNo, Bess. He’s at the hospital with your mom and Angie.”
    â€œJesus,” I said. It sank in that she was using the present tense. He wasn’t dead, at least not yet. “Where is he?”
    â€œLong Island General.” The best hospital in Nassau County. Cops and firefighters get preferential treatment when they’re injured on the job.
    â€œHow bad is it?”
    â€œThey think he might have broken his back. When can you get out here?”
    â€œI’m on my way.”
    The trains wouldn’t be running for another few hours. I only had two twenties in my wallet so I rummaged through my pockets and managed to put together another fifteen for cab fare. Then I dumped some essentials in a suitcase. I must have been somewhat out of my mind because along with the toothpaste and underwear I slipped in a book of Chopin Nocturnes and a candle shaped like a teapot that Angie had given me for Christmas.
    I was in some state of weirdness in the backseat of that taxi. The central question in my brain was, What if he dies? There were moments over my life, especially after Dutch had given me a throttling, when I had longed for his death. I would count the bruises on my body and burn with hatred. The purity of that feeling was a comfort and made me feel strong. But now the possibility of it as a reality shook me to my bones, as if my skeleton was trying to rearrange itself under my skin. I made a stab at praying. My father would appreciate that—unlike Mumma, he was a believer. It’s just that I figured I’d better hedge my bets. If God was around, I didn’t want to piss