he accepted the statement simply, as a responsibility, and, heavily retrieving his suitcase from behind a plastic chair, led her back through the blue and cream corridor to the bar. All the tables were full. He put the suitcase by a metal post and had her sit on it while he went to ask if they had sandwiches. He returned with two thin dry ham-and-cheeses and two paper cups of coffee. Why not a real drink? Perhaps he thought it would be indecent, in their predicament, or that they needed to keep their wits. At home Richard right now would be bringing her a gin and tonic, or a Daiquiri, or even a rum Collins or a gin daisy. She had bought him a cocktail shaker for their first Christmas, and even in their bitterest times he would ceremoniously bring her a sweet drink. She imagined that Richard would have made an occasion, somehow, out of this wait – an occasion at least for bluster and indignation.A burly man with imperfect vision, he loved to come to grips. He loved kitchens, he loved to make the refrigerator tremble. She could taste now the Daiquiri he would bring. So cold.
Jerry ate standing above her, and the pose revived the actor in him. If the area was a stage, they were on the very lip. A constant shuffle of people passed a few feet from them. ‘I’ve figured out the bind I’m in,’ he told her. ‘It’s between death and death. To live without you is death to me. On the other hand, to abandon my family is a sin; to do it I’d have to deny God, and by denying God I’d give up all claim to immortality.’
Sally felt weak; what could she say to such an accusation? She tried to fit herself into his frame of mind; she could hardly believe that minds still existed in that frame.
Having gobbled his sandwich, he squatted, and murmured to her. She turned her head aside in embarrassment, and caught a familiar-looking man gazing at them from over by the bar. He averted his gaze; his little moustache, profiled against a neon advertisement, made a dab of green light under his nose. Jerry was murmuring, ‘I look at your face, and imagine myself lying in bed dying, and ask myself, “Is this the face I want at my death-bed?” And I don’t know. I honestly don’t know , Sally.’
‘You’re not going to die for a long time, Jerry, and you’ll have many women between me and then.’
‘I will not. You are my only woman, you’re the only woman I want. You were given to me in Heaven, and Heaven won’t let me have you.’
She felt he enjoyed making things impossible bycarrying them into these absurd absolutes, and furthermore she felt he enjoyed it because it punished her. Punished her for loving him. And she knew that in his mind this punishing was a kindness; his conscience insisted that he keep abrading her on the edges of pain that bounded their love. Yet she knew also that he did it like a child who states the worst, hoping to be contradicted. ‘You’re not a woman, Jerry, so I think you exaggerate what your leaving would do to Ruth.’
‘Really? What would it do? Tell me.’ Ruth was the one earthly topic that never failed to interest him.
‘Well, she’d be stunned, and very lonely, but she’d have the children, and she’d have – this is hard to say, but I remember it from the times I’ve been alone – she’d have the satisfaction of getting through every day by herself. It’s something marriage doesn’t give you. And then, of course, she would remarry.’
‘Do you think she would? Say yes.’
‘Of course she would. But – Jerry? Now don’t get mad.’
‘I’m listening.’
‘You ought to do it if you’re going to do it. I don’t know how much she guesses, or how much you tell her, but if you torture her the way you torture me –’
‘Do I torture you? God. I mean to do just the opposite.’
‘I know. But it – I… I don’t want to sell myself. I’ll come to you as long as I can, and you don’t have to marry me. But you mustn’t keep teasing me with the possibility. If
Jerry ate standing above her, and the pose revived the actor in him. If the area was a stage, they were on the very lip. A constant shuffle of people passed a few feet from them. ‘I’ve figured out the bind I’m in,’ he told her. ‘It’s between death and death. To live without you is death to me. On the other hand, to abandon my family is a sin; to do it I’d have to deny God, and by denying God I’d give up all claim to immortality.’
Sally felt weak; what could she say to such an accusation? She tried to fit herself into his frame of mind; she could hardly believe that minds still existed in that frame.
Having gobbled his sandwich, he squatted, and murmured to her. She turned her head aside in embarrassment, and caught a familiar-looking man gazing at them from over by the bar. He averted his gaze; his little moustache, profiled against a neon advertisement, made a dab of green light under his nose. Jerry was murmuring, ‘I look at your face, and imagine myself lying in bed dying, and ask myself, “Is this the face I want at my death-bed?” And I don’t know. I honestly don’t know , Sally.’
‘You’re not going to die for a long time, Jerry, and you’ll have many women between me and then.’
‘I will not. You are my only woman, you’re the only woman I want. You were given to me in Heaven, and Heaven won’t let me have you.’
She felt he enjoyed making things impossible bycarrying them into these absurd absolutes, and furthermore she felt he enjoyed it because it punished her. Punished her for loving him. And she knew that in his mind this punishing was a kindness; his conscience insisted that he keep abrading her on the edges of pain that bounded their love. Yet she knew also that he did it like a child who states the worst, hoping to be contradicted. ‘You’re not a woman, Jerry, so I think you exaggerate what your leaving would do to Ruth.’
‘Really? What would it do? Tell me.’ Ruth was the one earthly topic that never failed to interest him.
‘Well, she’d be stunned, and very lonely, but she’d have the children, and she’d have – this is hard to say, but I remember it from the times I’ve been alone – she’d have the satisfaction of getting through every day by herself. It’s something marriage doesn’t give you. And then, of course, she would remarry.’
‘Do you think she would? Say yes.’
‘Of course she would. But – Jerry? Now don’t get mad.’
‘I’m listening.’
‘You ought to do it if you’re going to do it. I don’t know how much she guesses, or how much you tell her, but if you torture her the way you torture me –’
‘Do I torture you? God. I mean to do just the opposite.’
‘I know. But it – I… I don’t want to sell myself. I’ll come to you as long as I can, and you don’t have to marry me. But you mustn’t keep teasing me with the possibility. If
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