He nodded and hugged Betty.
“You two are okay…” he whispered “This is really helping me. It would have been a thorn in my side.”
He had tears in his eyes. There was a short euphoric silence between us, like the cream layer between cookie wafers.
“I only ask one thing of you,” said Eddie.
“Anything…”
“Would you mind bringing her some flowers from time to time?”
They left during the night. I drank a last beer and Betty walked around the living room, squinting. It made me want to laugh.
“I see the couch in the other corner,” she declared. “What do you think…?”
“Sure, why not?”
“Well, let’s try it…”
We hadn’t been alone in the house for five minutes. I could still hear Eddie wishing us good luck and shutting the car door.
I wondered if she was kidding.
“Now? You want to start with that now?”
She looked at me, surprised. She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.
“Why not? It’s not late…”
“No, but I think it could wait till tomorrow…”
“You’re no fun. It’ll only take a minute.”
The thing dated from the war. It weighed at least three tons. We had to roll up the rug and inch our way across the room-the wheels were stuck, and it was late for that sort of work. But you do certain things without putting up a stink when you live with a girl who’s worth the trouble. That’s what I told myself as I was moving the buffet table, which was then also in the wrong place. I complained, for show, but inside I was having a good time. Even if all I really wanted was to go to bed, I could certainly move a little furniture for her-in truth I’d have moved mountains for her if I’d known how to go about it. Sometimes I wondered if I did enough for her, and sometimes I was afraid I didn’t-it’s not always easy to be the man you ought to be. You’ve got to understand that women are a little strange. They can be as annoying as anything when they set their minds to it. Still, I often wondered if I did enough for her. I thought about it mostly at the end of the evening, when I’d gone to bed first, lying there watching as she took her creams and lotions from the bathroom shelf. Anyway, being what you ought to be in life is not something that just happens to you-you have to work at it.
We had both worked up a sweat. When all was said and done, I have to admit, I felt pretty weak in the knees-perhaps I hadn’t really gotten all my strength back. I sat on the couch and looked around me with an air of exaggerated smugness.
“Now this is something else again,” I said.
She sat down next to me, her knees tricked under her chin, biting her lip.
“Yeah… I’m not sure… Maybe we should try a few different-”
“Different, my ass,” I said.
She took my hand, yawning.
“I’m beat, too. No, I was just saying…”
A little while later we were in the bedroom. I was about to take the covers off the bed, when she stopped me.
“No, I can’t do this…” she said.
“What are you talking about?”
She was staring at the bed in a very odd way. It’s true that from time to time she would go off into the ozone like that. Her attitude intrigued me-I hardly recognized her. I didn’t worry about it, though: girls have always intrigued me, generally speaking, and after a while you get used to it. I’ve decided that you can never completely understand them-you’ve just got to resign yourself to it. I’ve observed them out of the corner of my eye. After a while they all start doing weird things-incomprehensible and dazzling. It leaves you standing there as if you’ve come upon a fallen bridge; all you can do is throw a few wistful stones into the void and go back where you came from.
Naturally she didn’t answer me. I looked at her face and wondered where she’d gone. I decided to push it.
“You can’t do what?” I asked.
“Sleep there. I can’t sleep there.”
“Listen, it’s the only bed in the house. It might not be a barrel of laughs, but… think about it. It’s ridiculous.”
She backed up toward the door, shaking her head.
“No, I can’t. For the love of God don’t force me…”
I sat down on the corner of the bed. She turned and left. Outside the window, I saw two or three stars-it must have cleared up outside. I went back out into the living room. She was jiggling one of the armrests on the couch. She stopped for a minute and smiled at me.
“We’ll just unfold this thing here. It’ll be fine for now…”
I didn’t say anything. I grabbed the other armrest and shook it like a plum tree until it came off in my hand. The couch obviously hadn’t been unfolded in twenty years. She seemed to be having trouble with her side, so I went to give her a hand.
“Go try and find some sheets,” I said. “I’ll take care of this.”
The armrest gave me a hell of a time. I had to use the leg of a chair as a lever to get it off. I heard Betty opening the creaky closets. I had no idea how to work the couch. I lay down on the floor to look underneath. There were these huge springs sticking out in all directions like sharp-edged scrap iron. It looked dangerous to me-like some kind of enormous meat-grinder, just waiting to take your hand off. I spotted a large pedal over to one side. I stood up. I cleared a space around the couch. I held on to the backrest and pushed my foot down on the pedal.
Nothing happened. The thing didn’t move an inch. I kicked it all over and jumped up and down on it with all my weight, but nothing helped-I couldn’t get the goddamn bed to open. I broke out in a sweat. Betty showed up with the sheets.
“What… can’t do it?” she said.
“No shit. I don’t think this thing ever worked in its life. I’d have to really do a job on it. There’s not even any tools around here. Listen, just for tonight… it won’t kill us-it isn’t like she died from something contagious, you know. What do you say?”
She acted like she didn’t hear me. She made an innocent face and motioned toward the kitchen with her chin.
“I think there’s a toolbox under the sink,” she said. “I think I remember seeing one…”
I walked to the table. I finished off a can of beer, one hand on my hip. I aimed it at Betty:
“Do you know what you’re asking me to do? You know what time it is? Do you really think I’m going to start puttering around with that thing NOW??”
She came over to me with a smile and the sheets. She put her arms around me.
“I know you’re tired,” she said softly. “Just go sit down somewhere and let me take care of it. I’ll handle everything, okay?”
She didn’t give me time to tell her that the wise thing to do was to give the couch a rest for the night. I stood there in the middle of the living room with a stack of sheets in my hand, while she poked around under the kitchen sink.
A few moments later I realized I’d have to help. I got up with a sigh and bent down to the floor, picking up a black hammerhead that had just missed my ear by two inches. Then I went and took the handle out of Betty’s hand.
“All right. Let me do this. You’re going to hurt yourself.”
“Hey, it isn’t my fault that thing came off. I didn’t do anything…”
“I didn’t say you did. It’s just that I don’t want to go looking for a hospital in the middle of the night, without a car, in a strange place, exhausted, because one of us is bleeding to death. Just stand aside, please…”
