“Why should it be hard to believe?” he said.
I sniffled. I looked over at Betty.
“She seems to be better now,” I sighed. “I guess we can go now…”
He put his billy club on my other shoulder. I felt myself freezing to death.
“This is a strange place to have a nervous breakdown, isn’t it…?”
“I know. It’s just that we ran all the way…”
“Yeah, but you’re young. It’s good for the heart to run a little.”
The pressure from the billy club made my collarbone tremble. I knew what was going to happen, but I didn’t want to believe it. I felt like someone watching the pressure mount in his water heater, hoping that the valves will close all by themselves. I was paralyzed. I was frozen stiff. I was disgusted by what was happening. The old guy leaned over toward Betty without letting go of me. I felt like I was grounding his billy club-it had slid off my shoulder and stuck across my stomach.
“And the little lady… how is the little lady feeling?” he asked.
She didn’t reply. She parted the hair in her eyes to get a look at the cop. I saw that she was feeling better. I took this as a small consolation prize, while waiting for the water heater to explode m my face. I let myself bathe in the softness of despair. After a day like that, I was incapable of getting agitated.
“I’d like to get this over with,” I mumbled. “You don’t have to make me wait…”
He leaned back slowly. My ears were ringing. I hurt all over. The seconds stretched out like the freestyle event of a gum chewing competition. I waited for the old guy to straighten up. He looked at me, then he looked at the young cop-still standing there, poised for action, one eye closed, legs still, stock-still. Those dudes must have tempered-steel thighs. The old one sighed.
“Jesus Christ, Richard. How many times do I have to tell you not to aim that thing at me?”
All the other guy moved was his lips.
“Don’t worry. I’m not aiming at you, I’m aiming at him.”
“Yeah, but you never know. I wish you’d put that thing down…”
The young cop didn’t seem too hot on the idea:
“I’m not too comfortable with this kind of nut,” he said. “You seen the color of his shoes? You get a look at that?”
The old one nodded.
“Yeah, but remember, the other day we passed this guy in the street who had green hair. You got to cope with it…That’s how the world is these days. You can’t get bent out of shape over things like that.”
“Especially since it’s just a stupid accident,” I added.
“There, you see…?” said the old one.
Halfheartedly the cop lowered his gun. He ran his hand through his hair.
“One of these days we’re going to be in deep shit if we aren’t more careful. You’re asking for it. Didn’t it occur to you to frisk this guy? No, of course not. All you’re interested in is making me put my gun away, right…?”
“Listen, Richard, don’t take it personally.”
“Yeah. Right. Shit, man, every time it’s the same story…”
He leaned over furiously and picked up his hat, then got into the car and slammed the door. He pretended to look elsewhere, chewing on his thumbnail. The old cop looked irked.
“Jesus Christ,” he said. “You know, I been in this business forty years. I think I ought to know by now when to start getting suspicious.”
“Fine. Knock yourself out. I couldn’t care less…”
“Hey… look at them, would you? The girl can hardly stand up, and the guy-I’d break his head open before he could make half a move…”
“Leave me alone…”
“You’re a real pill, you know that?”
The young one leaned over to roll up the window. Then he turned the siren on and folded his arms. The old one got livid. He ran over to the car, but the other one had locked the doors from the inside.
“OPEN UP! STOP THAT RIGHT NOW!!” he screamed.
Betty put her hands over her ears. Poor thing, she had barely gotten her wits back-she must have been totally confused. It was clearly just another tacky police patrol. The old one was leaning over the hood, looking through the windshield, the veins in his neck sticking out like rope.
“RICHARD, I’M NOT KIDDING NOW…I’M GIVING YOU TWO SECONDS TO TURN THAT OFF, YOU HEAR ME?”
The horror lasted another few seconds, then Richard turned the thing off. The old guy came back, wiping his hand across his forehead. He scratched the end of his nose, his eyes staring nowhere. The silence was refreshing.
“Pffff…” he said. “All they send us now are the young, supertrained ones. I think it damages their nerves a little…”
“Sorry. It’s my fault,” I said.
Betty was wiping her nose off behind me. The old guy pulled his pants up a little. I looked up at the starlit sky.
“You just passing through?” he asked.
“We’re taking over the piano store,” I said. “We know the owner.”
“Yeah? You mean Eddie?”
“Yeah. You know him?”
He gave me a bright smile.
“I know everybody. I haven’t left town since the last war.”
I shivered.
“You cold?” he asked.
“Huh? Oh yeah, yeah. I’m frozen stiff.”
“Okay, why don’t you both just get in the car? We’ll take you home.”
“No bother?”
“No. I just don’t like to see folks walking around these warehouses. Nobody’s got any business here at night.”
Five minutes later they dropped us off in front of the house. The old cop put his head out the window while we got out.
“Hey, I hope your little lover’s quarrel is over for tonight, eh?”
“Yes,” I said.
Betty opened the door and went up while I watched them go. I waited till they disappeared down the street. If I hadn’t been so cold I wouldn’t have been able to lift my feet off the sidewalk. I was totally blank just then, like I was opening my eyes after a lobotomy. But it was a winter’s night and the sky was clear. The icy air had the street in its grip, and it was torturing me. I took the opportunity to whimper a little bit, then turned back to the house.
I went upstairs as well as I could with a cracked knee and the certainty that I had caught my death that night. Still, I had to smile when I hit the apartment and found it so warm. I felt like I was slipping into an apple turnover.
Betty was lying on the bed. She was still dressed, her back to me. I sat down in a chair, my knee held out straight and my arm slung over the backrest. Goddamn son of a bitch, I said, deep down inside of me, watching her breathe. The silence seemed like a rainfall of sequins on glue-covered toast. We had still not exchanged one word.
But life goes on. I got up and went to examine my leg in the bathroom. I pulled my pants down. My knee was round, almost shiny-not too pretty to look at. When I stood up, I looked at myself in the mirror. The head goes well with the knee, I said, they go hand in hand: if one brings tears to your eyes, the other one just makes you scream out loud. I was joking, but it’s true that I had no idea what to put on my knee-we didn`t have anything even vaguely resembling salve in our first-aid kit. In the end I just rolled my pant leg down as gently as I could, swallowed two aspirin, and went back into the living room carrying what was left of the Mercurochrome, some cotton compresses, and a large bandage.
