Read Online Lost Between Houses by David Gilmour - Free Book Online

little breakout on my back, too many chocolates, and so I was self-conscious about turning over. In case she could see. So the ideal position was me lying with my arm over her, her facing the wall, which was fine but I like to flip around a lot, not to mention go to the bathroom a half-dozen times, so all in all I didn’t have the world’s best sleep. At one point I rolled over and I felt this thing under my hip. I reached down and pulled it out; it was a stuffed animal, a skunk I think, it was in the bed with her like she was a little girl. I looked at it for a second. I almost laughed but then I had second thoughts. So I slipped it back under the covers and the three of us sailed off to sleep again, me, Scarlet and the little skunk.
    Sometime around eight, I remember because I looked at the clock in the hall on the way back from the can, I lay down on the floor beside the bed. Scarlet was sound asleep, and I didn’twant to wake her. I wasn’t quite ready for everything to start up. I closed my eyes and boy, did I go under fast. Wow. Like I’d been crowbarred.
    Next thing I knew, something moved in the room. I opened my peepers; there was Scarlet stepping over top of me, a sheet wrapped around her, like an Italian movie star or something.
    I woke up God knows how much later. I lay there for awhile on the floor, looking around the room, feeling pretty pleased with myself, I have to tell you. I mean, like, I did it. I actually fucking did it. Just imagine what my little audience on the highway would have made of this, me making it all the way down here and then spending the night with a girl.
    I scrambled into my jeans and shirt and came out in the living room, the sun blazing down, me doing up my shirt pretty fast on account of my chicken chest. Sometimes in the shower I imagine people staring at me because I’m so skinny. Sometimes I tell them I’ve been sick recently. Ill, that’s the word I use. Sounds more tragic.
    “Jesus H. Christ,” I said. “It sure is bright out here. Man, I can hardly see.”
    Scarlet was sitting in a big chair with her legs draped over the side; wearing a white T-shirt and blue shorts. And glasses with big brown frames.
    She whipped them off.
    “About time,” she said.
    I didn’t want to get too near her on account of not having brushed my teeth.
    “Great view,” I said, standing in front of the window. “You must never feel like you’re missing anything. Nothing going on out there without your permission.”
    “God you talk a lot.”
    “Is it too much?”
    “What?”
    “The talking.”
    “No, I like it.”
    “Can I borrow a toothbrush?”
    “Use mine, it’s the one with the blue handle.”
    “I’ll wash it off with soap when I’m done.”
    “That’s okay,” she said. “I’ll survive.”
    I went into the bathroom. I found the brush in a plastic glass with a few others. I ran my thumb along the bristles. I could feel a small spray of water; I didn’t rinse it off; call me a pervert, whatever, I just liked the idea of putting it in my mouth when it was still wet from hers.
    I came out of the bathroom, brush in my mouth, lather all over the place, scrubbing away like mad. I started to say something.
    “I can’t understand a word you’re saying,” she said.
    “What?”
    “I can’t make out what you’re saying.”
    I pulled the brush out of my mouth. I sounded like those deaf guys you see in the subway, flapping their hands about and making funny noises.
    “I was saying that I have a clock in my head. It’s the strangest thing. Day or night, I know exactly what time it is. Like not sort of, or approximately. I mean right on the buzzer.”
    “What time is it now?”
    “Well, I can’t do it when I’m self-conscious. I’ve got to sort of sneak up on it. I’ll tell you later. When I’m not trying.”
    She made me a piece of toast and buttered it. I don’t generally eat around girls. Too many opportunities to be unattractive. Scarlet, I noticed, ate with