“I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t.”
“Then why not do it?”
“Listen, if you say you really want it, then I’ll give it a try.”
She gave me a hug. I went up into the attic to see what I was in for. I was in for trouble. I came back down and hugged her.
“I think I deserve a second helping,” I whispered.
The job was almost finished. All that was left was to waterproof the joints and install the panes. Bob was supposed to come over in the afternoon to help me carry the glass up, but after the little incident that morning, I was afraid he would manage to forget. I was wrong.
It was extremely hot up on the roof. Betty handed us some beers. She was very excited about spending our first night under the stars-she even laughed once or twice. God knows I would have turned the house into Swiss cheese if she’d have asked me to.
We put our tools away in the last rays of sunset. Betty climbed up to join us with a few Carlsbergs. We spent a while up there together, shooting the breeze, squinting into the light. Things seemed absolutely clear.
After Bob left, we emptied the attic and swept it out. Then we brought the mattress up, along with some munchies and the minimum necessary to avoid dying of thirst. We put the mattress right under the window. She fell backward onto it, her hands clasped behind her head. The night was upon us. We could already see two stars, up to the left. A whole week’s work. The sky was a bargain at twice the price. I asked myself whether we should eat a little or fuck first.
“Hey, do you think we’ll see the moon go by?” she asked.
I started unbuttoning my pants.
“I don’t know… maybe…”
My own tastes were simpler. I didn’t have to go searching the sky for what was in my own backyard. Her underpants knew me so well, I could pet them without getting bitten. I looked under her skirt and found that I had only three fingers left. It didn’t bother me at all.
“Wow, I see shooting stars…!” she said.
“I know what I’m wishing for. Try not to add anything else to the order.”
“No, I mean REAL ONES!!”
I knew that it was either me or the sky. I didn’t chicken out. I decided to fight to the finish. I shoved my head down between her legs. I more or less ate her panties whole. Where were all our problems now? Where was all the shit of the last few weeks? Where was Paradise? Where was Hell? Where had it gone to, the invisible machine that had been grinding away at us? I spread her crack and put my face in it. You’re on the beach, Daddy-o, I said to myself, you’re on a deserted beach, with waves rolling in, lapping at your lips. Daddy-o, I understand why you don’t ever want to stand up again.
When I picked my head up, I was glowing like a nebula. My eye was totally glued shut.
“It’s a little annoying-I’ve lost my sense of depth perception,” I said.
She smiled. She pulled me to her and cleaned my eye with her tongue. I went inside her then, and for quite a while I heard nothing more about the sky-I simply felt the stars behind me, gliding gently past.
Betty was especially into it that night. I didn’t have to outdo myself to ring her chimes. It thrilled me to see her enjoying it. I even slowed down to make it last longer. She got lathered up before I did. I felt it coming. I thought about the Big Bang theory. We lay there stuck to each other for a good ten minutes afterward, then dug into the chicken. I’d brought up a bottle of wine, too. By the end of dinner her cheeks were light pink and her eyes shone. It was rare that I saw her so calm and relaxed, so-how can I say it-almost happy… yes… almost happy. It made me forget to sweeten my yogurt.
“How come you’re not like this more often?” I asked.
She looked at me in such a way that I didn’t want to repeat the question. Why insist? We’d already discussed it a hundred times. Why always come back to it? Was it that I still believed in the magic of words? I remembered perfectly our last conversation on the subject. It hadn’t been very long ago. I knew it by heart. Jesus Christ, she’d said, shivering, can’t you see that life is against me-that all I have to do is want something to know that I can’t have it? I can’t even have a baby…
When she said that, I could see the doors slamming shut all around her, and there was nothing I could do to open them. There was no use arguing, no use trying to show her how wrong she was, how easily things could be worked out. There’ll always be some joker around who shows up to treat a third-degree burn with a glass of water. Me, for instance.
23
It was a little white building near the outskirts of town, in a fairly deserted neighborhood. I could see people walking past the window of the office on the ground floor, just above the garage. It was early summer, about eighty in the shade. At around two o’clock, I crossed the street and stood by the garage door, pretending to tie my shoes.
I’d been there for only a minute when I saw a pair of pants legs stop in front of me. I looked up slowly. Even as a man I can’t stomach that kind of asshole: a jerk, kind of flushed, flabby around the middle, a lecherous look on his face-the kind you see all over.
“So, having trouble with your shoelaces…?” he murmured.
I stood up fast. I got my knife out. I held it discreetly under his nose.
“Buzz off, fuzznuts,” I growled.
The dude turned white, then jumped back, his eyes wide. His lips were like the petals of a rotten flower. I made like I was going to lunge at him, and he took off at a run. Ile stopped at the corner, called me a bitch, then disappeared.
I bent back down over my shoelaces. It was past two o’clock. I’d noticed that they were never exactly on time. All I could do was be patient, and hope that no more perverts came along. In spite of everything, I was calm. It seemed too unreal to be completely true. When I saw the steel door go up, I flattened myself against the wall. I heard the van start up inside. I hugged my bag against my chest. I held my breath. The sun started vibrating. There was no one in sight. I bit my lip. I had a bad taste in my mouth-sort of chemical.
The van pulled out slowly. My only fear was that the guy would see me in the rearview mirror. I took my chances anyway, hoping that anyone pulling into the street out of a garage would look STRAIGHT AHEAD. I was counting on it, anyway. As soon as the delivery truck had pulled out, I slipped inside the garage. I backed into a shadow till the door closed. I swallowed my saliva it was like swallowing peanut butter.
I stayed there without moving for five minutes. Nothing happened. I breathed. I grabbed my tits, which had fallen down, and put them back where they belonged. I must have measured fifty-five inches around the bosom, little points sticking out through my shirt. It kept me warm. I’d put my jacket on so I wouldn’t be noticed too much on the street, but it wouldn’t close all the way. I’d put on little white gloves to cover the hair on my hands. For my legs, I’d just worn pants. I’d settled on a short blond wig-a tad trendy for my taste. It was either that or a twenty- inch bun-they were out of stock till next week. I took my sunglasses off and got a little minor out of my purse to see if my makeup had smeared.
No, everything was in order. I’d done a good job-shaved three times in a row, put on a little cream, some foundation, and finally some rather violent red lipstick. All in all, I looked pretty good. Burning body and icy face- just the kind of girl who would make me nervous. I slid my glasses down to the end of my nose. I hadn’t done my eyes. I waited another minute until I felt perfectly calm, then I got on with it.
On the side, there was an open door that led to a little hallway. To my left, the exit-an unbelievable collection of bars and deadbolts. To my right, a stairway going up to the offices. I was struck by the surprising simplicity of it all-I viewed it as a sign from destiny. I took the Barracuda out of my bag. It was an imitation, a perfect imitation-it even scared me. I started up the stairs like a hungry panther.
On the second floor I spotted my man. He was sitting at a desk with his back to me-a young guy of about
