Read Online The Honeymoon by Dinitia Smith - Free Book Online Page B

rained down. Next to her, she heard a droning sound. He was humming. She glanced over at the men in the box to see if they’d heard him, but they were sitting at an angle slightly in front of them, absorbed in the concert.
    She leaned over and pinched his arm. He looked at her sideways and grinned, lurching and swaying to the music with a strange, rigid posture. “Johnnie …”
    He began lifting each shoulder one by one — left, right, left, jerkily, like a tin soldier, a mad puppet. “What?” he asked innocently, his eyes fixed on her as if daring her to stop him.
    She inclined her head toward their neighbors in the box and whispered, “You’re disturbing them.”
    He looked at them. “I love the music, that’s all.” He laughed. “What’s wrong with that?”
    He shifted back toward the stage and continued, shoulder up, down, up, with no relation to the music now at all.
    She could no longer pay attention to the concert.
    With the fierce, final drama of “Winter,” he swayed, eyes glowing, rotating his body in a circular motion.
    Then, thank God, it was over. He gave a final shiver.
    The applause began, spreading out and lingering in the air of the hall. She stood up and smiled anxiously at the men in the box. The older one nodded at her. She wonderedif he recognized her. She prayed to God, no — then hurried ahead of Johnnie to exit before the crowd.
    Outside, on the
campo
, Johnnie was still smiling euphorically. She led the way back to the boat, he droning out of tune, lingering behind her, his attention wandering. A dog skulked along the edges of the
calle
. “Look,” he said. “See, the window.” Above them were geraniums in a box. Two women walked past, black shawls covering bent heads.
    At the end of the
calle
, the gondola bobbed in the shadows. The gondolier, Corradini, was standing by it. As they approached, he scrutinized them with cold eyes.
    “To the hotel,” Johnnie ordered.
    As the boat made its way slowly along the narrow
rio
, Johnnie still hummed, loudly, an approximation of the music from the concert. She sat in the gondola as if she were alone.
    She noticed that the boatman kept glancing at Johnnie, with a calculating look on his face.
    They reached the Grand Canal and in a few minutes they were at the hotel.
    Johnnie stood up to get out and she saw the gondolier look directly at him, then boldly up and down his body. The man seemed to take in every part of him, his lips curled in a faint, mocking smile.
    “Forse potrei mostrarvi alcuni luoghi?”
he asked.
“Conosco un posto vicino al Rialto.”
Would Johnnie like to go out again this evening? he was saying. He was offering to take him to a place near the Rialto.
    Johnnie glared at him.
“Non mi interessa!”
he barked. “My wife and I are retiring for the evening now.”
    The gondolier shrugged and smiled again. He reached out to Johnnie to help him onto shore, but Johnnie wrenched away from him.
    As they walked to the hotel entrance, she glanced behind her. The horrible gondolier was standing there by the boat, his eyes fixed on Johnnie, a strange, knowing half-smile on his face.
    “Why did he want you to go with him at this time of night?”
    “They just want to take you somewhere and then get more money out of you.”
    “You were very harsh with him.”
    “It was very irritating,” he said.
    Inside the
appartement
, he removed his jacket, folded it, and laid it over the chair. Still scowling, he untied his cravat and unbuttoned the neck of his shirt.
    She waited, then said, “I think I’ll go to bed now.”
    “I’ll stay up a bit,” he said. “If I go to bed now, I won’t sleep.”
    “I can’t bear to see you suffer,” she said.
    He didn’t answer but walked out onto the balcony. She came up behind him.
    But there was nothing more coming from him. He was waiting for her to leave.
    “Well, then,” she said, “good night.” He remembered to kiss her on both cheeks. But before she could step away, he’d