And uphill was there not a final, joyful, wheel-circling cry from that distant yard?
Dr. Goff snorted.
«Think on it,» he said, half aloud, «no more horses, no
more
And, thinking, fell on the cobbles, lurching toward London and the future.
At the End of the Ninth Year
1995 year
«Well,» said Sheila, chewing on her breakfast toast and examining her complexion, distorted in the side of the coffee urn, «here it is the last day of the last month of the ninth year.»
Her husband, Thomas, glanced over the rampart of
«I said,» said Sheila, «the ninth year's finished and you have a completely new wife. Or, to put it properly, the old wife's gone. So I don't think we're married anymore.»
Thomas floored the
«Not
«No, that was another time, another body, another me.» She buttered more toast and munched on it philosophically.
«Hold on!» He took a stiff jolt of coffee. «Explain.»
«Well, dear Thomas, don't you remember reading as children and later, that every nine years, I
«Oh, get
«The point, dear Tom,» she replied, finishing her toast, «is that with this breakfast I have replenished my soul and psyche, completed the reworking of my entire flesh, blood, and bones. This person seated across from you is
«I have often
«Be serious.»
«Are
«Let me finish. If the medical research is true, then at the end of nine years there is not an eyebrow, eyelash, pore, dimple, or skin follicle in this creature here at this celebratory breakfast that in any way is related to that old Sheila Tompkins married at eleven a.m. of a Saturday nine years ago this very hour. Two different women. One in bondage to a nice male creature whose jaw jumps out like a cash register when he scans the
She rose swiftly and prepared to flee.
«Wait!» He gave himself another jolt of coffee. «Where are you going?»
Hallway to the door, she said, «Out. Perhaps away. And who knows: forever!»
«Born free? Hogwash. Come here! Sit down!»
She hesitated as he assumed his lion-tamer's voice. «Dammit. You owe me an explanation. Sit!»
She turned slowly. «For only as long as it takes to draw a picture.»
«Draw it, then. Sit!»
She came to stare at her plate. «I seem to have eaten everything in sight.»
He jumped up, ran over to the side table, rummaged more omelet, and banged it in front of her.
«There.! Speak with your mouth full.»
She forked in the eggs. «You do see what I'm driving at, don't you, Tomasino?»
«Damnation! I thought you were
«Yes, but not
«That's for maniacs on their honeymoons!»
«Yes,
«That was then, this is
«I could feel it happening all year. Lying in bed, I felt my skin prickle, my pores open like ten thousand tiny mouths, my perspiration run like faucets, my heart race, my pulse sound in the oddest places, under my chin, my wrists, the backs of my knees, my ankles. I felt like a huge wax statue, melting. After midnight I was afraid to turn on the bathroom light and find a stranger gone mad in the mirror.»
«All right, all right!» He stirred four sugars in his coffee and drank the slops from the saucer. «Sum it
«Every hour of every night and then all day, I could feel it as if I were out in a storm being struck by hot August rain that washed away the old to find a brand-new me. Every drop of serum, every red and white corpuscle, every hot flash of nerve ending, rewired and restrung, new marrow, new hair for combing, new fingerprints even. Don't
He searched her up and down with a razor glare.
«I hear Mad Carlotta maundering,» he said. «I see a woman hyperventilated by a midlife frenzy. Why don't you just
«Not necessarily.»
«Not necessarily?» he shouted.
«I'll just simply . . . go away.»
«Where will you go?»
«There must be some place,» she said vaguely, stirring her omelet to make paths.
«Is there another man?» he said at last, holding his utensils with fists.
«Not quite yet.
«Thank God for small favors.» He let a great breath gust out. «Now go to your room.»
«Beg pardon?» She blinked.
«You'll not be allowed out for the rest of this week. Go to your room. No phone calls. No TV. No-«
She was on her feet. «You sound like my father in high school!»
«I'll be damned.» He laughed quietly. «Yes! Upstairs now! No lunch for you, my girl. I'll put a plate by your door at suppertime. When you behave I'll give you your car keys. Meanwhile, march! Pull out your telephone plugs and hand over your CD player!»
«This is outrageous,» she cried. «I'm a grown woman.»
«Ingrown. No progress.
She ran, pale-faced, to the entry stairs, wiping tears from her eyes.
As she was hallway up, he, putting his foot on the first step, pulled the napkin from his shirt and called quietly, «Wait …»
She froze in place but did not look back down at him, waiting.
«Sheila,» he said at last, tears running down
«Yes,» she whispered.
«I love you,» he said.
«I know,» she said. «But it doesn't help.»
«Yes, it does. Listen.»
She waited, hallway up to her room.
He rubbed his hand over his face as if trying to massage some truth out of it. His hand was almost frantic,
