“But if she’s with another?”
“I’ll take her away from him.”
“A woman, man. Just a woman,” said Gideon patiently.
“I have to find her.”
“How? Paris is a big place.”
“I’ll get her address.”
“Where?”
“From over there.”
“They won’t give it to you.”
“They will. I’ll make them. Make them tell me who the man is. Where she went.” He was standing now. Nervous. Eager to get going.
“You not going for the address, you going to cause mayhem.”
“Let him,” said Therese. “Kill them, chocolate eater.”
“Don’t be crazy. It’s just a woman, man.”
It was true. He wanted to find her but he wanted to smash something too. Smash the man who took the woman he had loved while she slept, and smash where they had first made love, where she took his hand and was afraid and needed him and they walked up the stairs holding hands, just like she walked to the plane holding somebody else’s hand. She should not have done that if she was going to get on an airplane and put her head on another man’s shoulder.
“Get me there,” he said to Gideon. “Now, while there is still light.”
Gideon ran his tongue over his stone-white teeth. “No. I’m not doing that. Take you to smash up the place?”
“I only want her address. That’s all.”
“You won’t be welcome there and neither me.”
“I will only talk to them.”
“And if they won’t talk to you?”
“They will. They’ll tell me.”
“No, man. That’s final.”
“All right. I’ll take the launch.”
“Good,” said Gideon. “Take the launch. In two days maybe you’ll be cooler.”
“Two days?”
“Two, yes. Launch don’t go again till Monday. Today is market day. Saturday.”
“I can’t wait that long.”
“Telephone them.”
“They won’t tell me anything on the telephone. Take me.”
“This is crazy-mad shit, man. You can’t go there.”
“I don’t have a choice. There’s nothing else for me to do. You think I’d choose this if I had a choice?”
Therese turned around and looked at him. Then she looked at the airplane food on the record player. “I can take you,” she said.
“You not taking him nowhere. You blind as a bat.”
“I can take you,” she repeated.
“The sun’s going down. You’ll drown!” said Gideon. “We’ll fish you off the beach in the morning.”
“I can see better in the dark and I know that crossing too well.”
“Don’t trust her, man. Don’t. I’m telling you.”
Son looked at Therese and nodded. “Get me there, Therese.”
“Two big fools,” said Gideon. “One blind, the other gone mad!”
“Eat,” said Therese to Son. “I’ll take you when it’s time.”
Son stood up. “I can’t eat,” he said. “And I’ve been awake for days. Sleep won’t come and I can’t get hungry.”
“Come with me then,” said Gideon. “Let’s go out. Go to Grande Cinq, have a drink and relax a little.”
“No,” he said. “I don’t want a woman.”
“Christ!” Gideon was disgusted. He never got over being amazed at that kind of passion, though he had seen it enough. “Well, rum’s good anywhere. I resign from the sober world tonight.” He went into the bedroom and returned with a pint of rum, the bottle half-full. He poured and passed a cup to Son who took it in tiny sips with much time in between. All three sat at the table, Son alone not eating the fish and rice. Gideon told stories about
