7
“Me neither,” Anniston Bennet said, addressing my si-8
lence. “I’ve always done what I wanted to do or what I be-9
lieved I needed. But I’ve never been brought to an action 10
because of my heart.”
11
It was almost ludicrous, listening to the
contradiction of emotions rattled around in my head.
14
“What’s that got to do with you sitting down here 15
locked up in a cage?”
16
“That’s why I asked if you had ever been in love, 17
Charles. Because love isn’t a short skirt and shapely legs.
18
It’s not a clap of thunder or a chance meeting with a pros-19
titute in a library in Paris.”
20
“How would you know what it isn’t if you’ve never been 21
there yourself ?” I felt dizzy and precarious on my trunk.
22
“I’ve never felt love, but I’ve studied it,” he said. “In my 23
line of work you pay attention to every human emotion 24
the way doctors examine their patients. The desperation 25
borne from hunger, for instance, is a powerful force that 26
will turn the victim in on himself. It’s the desire to devour 27 S
the source of the pain. The pang of nationalism can make 28 R
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The Man in My Basement
a man as blind and dense as a stone. He will cut off his 1
own arm, kill his children, for a flag and a ten-cent song.”
2
“But what about love?” I really wanted to know.
3
“Love, as the poet says, is like the spring. It grows on 4
you and seduces you slowly and gently, but it holds tight 5
like the roots of a tree. You don’t know until you’re ready 6
to go that you can’t move, that you would have to muti-7
late yourself in order to be free. That’s the feeling. It 8
doesn’t last, at least it doesn’t have to. But it holds on like 9
a steel claw in your chest. Even if the tree dies, the roots 10
cling to you. I’ve seen men and women give up every-11
thing for love that once was.”
12
“And so you love somebody?” I asked. “That’s what 13
brought you here?”
14
“No,” he said. “I don’t have that affliction. I’m here 15
