'You're okay. Glad you could come. When Kimberly called and said she had this photographer friend-we didn't know what to expect.'
'Kimberly has brought around some of the oddest men,' Amanda said. She smiled at Kim.
'Haven t you, dear?'
'Guess that depends on what you mean by odd. they always seemed to fit in here,' Kim said. Something about the way she and Amanda smiled at each other suggested an undercurrent, some kind of complicity.
With the main course, a platter of rabbit sausage and al dente vegetables, the conversation turned back to painting. Big sums of money were mentioned, gallery owners' seductions were analyzed, collectors were mocked, and half a dozen major artists were exposed as frauds. With the salad we dissected some current films, and with dessert the subject returned to food, a discussion again dominated by the Vanderkamps, who decreed that no matter what famous restaurant one went to in New York, one was doomed to disappointment.
Outside the air was sticky and thick. Kim and I quarreled the moment we hit the street.
'How do you know such people?'
'Harold and Amanda-I think they're kind of cute.'
'Yeah. Like a couple of vipers.'
'You seemed to be enjoying yourself.'
'How do you know them anyway?'
'I just know them, okay?' Her forehead was glossy.
'What's the matter, Geoffrey?'
'It was a wasted evening.'
'Why use that word?'
'Their unearned opinions, clever put-downs. I hated the whole thing.
Everyone was repulsive.'
'Maybe they were. But why do you have to be so sour all the time?'
'You said that to me once before.'
She glared at me.
'And now it seems we have the proof. I was offended. I knew she was right, but I didn't want to hear it.
'Maybe we're seeing too much of each other,' she said.
'Maybe we need a little rest.'
'I'm sorry you feel that way. Until just now I thought we were getting along pretty well.'
'Did you?' She gave me a withering look, then stepped into the street and raised her hand to flag a cab.
'Hey! Wait! Not so fast!'
'No, Geoffrey. I think we need a break.' The cab pulled up. She opened the door.
'Time I slept in my own apartment for a change…
She got in the cab and slammed the door. Then she looked straight ahead. I called to her, but she wouldn't turn. When the light changed, the cab sped uptown. I stood watching until it disappeared.
I couldn't sleep that night. I missed her. I hadn't expected her to walk away. For a long time I'd lived alone, reclusive, turned inward, in a kind of somnambulant state. Then she came into my life and I woke up again. Now, alone in my bed, I felt frightened of slipping back.
I got up at 3:00 A.M., dressed, packed my tripod and Deardorff, and went out to prowl the streets. The air was dense, still and humid. Within minutes my clothes were soaked.
I never got around to setting up my equipment, just roamed and felt the city's emptiness. Around 4:00, I wandered over to Desbrosses to find that stretch of wall where she and I had met. The phone booth on the corner was empty as a coffin, Lil's was closed, and there was no one around. The figure in the shadow painting looked as if he'd just been executed. I stared at him, felt wretched about myself. Then, without taking a single photograph, I shuffled my way back home.
I phoned her early in the morning.
'Who's this?' Her voice was groggy. Unlike me, she had slept very well.
'Look, Kim-I'm sorry. You were right. I promise I'm going to lighten up.'
'Oh, Geoffrey-it's you. What time is it anyway?'
'Of course it's me. Who else did you expect?'
'I thought we were taking a break.'
'Come on, Kim-forgive.' There was a pause. I held my breath.
'Sure. I'm crazy about you. Didn't you know?'
She was busy. Saturday was her day for errands, and she and Shadow had a modeling appointment in the evening. She thought she'd be too exhausted to come by afterwards, so she proposed we meet the following day for a reconciliation brunch.
When I put down the phone I was happy once again, though I wondered how I'd make it through another night alone.
As it turned out I didn't have to. She woke me up at 2:00 A.M.
'It's me. On the corner. Can I come up?' There was an edge to her voice. She sounded out of breath.
'What's the matter?' 'Damnit, Geoffrey! Can I come?'
'Of course. I'm sorry…'
A minute later she rang and I buzzed her in. As soon as I saw her I knew something was wrong. Her eyes were wild, her expression frantic.
She rushed into my arms.
'Geoffrey…'
'Hey I stroked her hair.
'Hey, calm yourself. Calm. '
'I'm scared, Geoffrey. Really, really scared.'
'Why?'
'Some men are after me.'
'What men?' She stared at me.
'I don't know.'
For a moment I thought she was stoned.
'Are you on something?'
'No!' I believed her; she wasn't spacey, just terrified.
'Pull yourself together. You're not making sense.'
'There's this powerful man. It's people who work for him, I think. But I don't know for sure. I only know he's had people killed.'
'Hey, now… slowly. Who're you talking about?'
'I don't want to talk about it. Do you have Valium?'
'What?'
' Valium.
'Yeah. I think so. Sure.'
'Get it for me.' I hesitated.
'Please. I'm so scared, Geoffrey. All screwed up inside and scared… .'
When I brought her the Valium, she grabbed the bottle, and before I could stop her she gulped down thirty milligrams. After that I couldn't get her to tell me anything. She hugged me, buried her head in my chest, murmured again about how scared she was, and dropped off to sleep.
I cradled her for a while, worrying about her, trying to make sense out of what she'd said. I think I felt some omen then that what we had was vulnerable and could be shattered. But the thought of that was too upsetting; I needed her too much. After a while I blanked out too, to protect myself, I think, from the pain of such a loss.
In the morning when I awoke she was still sleeping, breathing heavily in my arms. I got out of bed carefully, so as not to wake her, and went into the kitchenette.
I was out of coffee-bread and juice as well. I wrote up a shopping list, dressed and went out to shop. A few years ago they closed Nassau Street to traffic, turning it into a pedestrian mall. On weekdays it's a river of people moving between Wall Street, City Hall, the courthouses and various subway stops along the way. But early on a
