The rest of the day vanished. She didn't know where it went. She swam in agony, her body pulsing. She wanted to weep, cry out, claw her aching flesh from the bones. The world about her whirled dizzily. It would not stop.
She walked home slowly, her steps faltering. Passersby were a streaming blur. The earth sank beneath her feet. She heard a roaring above the traffic din, smelled scorch, and in her mouth was a taste of old copper.
She turned into the luncheonette, too weak to continue her journey.
'Hullo, dearie,' the porky waitress said. 'The usual?'
Zoe nodded.
'Wanna hear somepin nutty?' the waitress asked, setting a place for her. 'Right after you was in here last night, a guy comes in and buys the iced tea glass you drank out of. Said he had glasses just like it at home, but his kid broke one, and he wanted to fill the set. Paid a dollar for it.'
'The glass I used?'
'Crazy, huh? Din even want a clean one. Just wrapped up the dirty glass in paper napkins and rushed out with it. Well, it takes all kinds…'
'Was he tall and thin?' Zoe Kohler asked. 'With a sour expression?'
'Nah. He was tall all right, but a heavyset guy. Middle sixties maybe. Why? You know him?'
'No,' Zoe said listlessly, 'I don't know him.'
She was still thinking clearly enough to realize what had happened. Now they had her fingerprints. They would compare them with the prints on the wineglass she left at the Tribunal. They would be sure now. They would come for her and kill her.
She left her food uneaten. She headed home with stumbling steps. The pains in her abdomen were almost shrill in their intensity.
She wondered if her period had started. She had not inserted a tampon and feared to look behind her; perhaps she was leaving a spotted trail on the sidewalk. And following the spoor came the thin, dour man, nose down and sniffing. A true bloodhound.
At home, she locked and bolted her door, put on the chain. She looked wearily about her trig apartment. She had always been neat. Her mother never had to tell her to tidy her room.
'A place for everything and everything in its place,' her mother was fond of remarking.
She slipped shoes from her shrunken feet. She sat upright in a straight chair in the living room, hands folded primly on her lap. She watched dusk, twilight, darkness seep into the silent room.
Perhaps she fainted, dozed, dreamed; it was impossible to know. She saw a deserted landscape. Nothing there but gray smoke curling.
Then, as it thinned to fog, vapor, she saw a cracked and bloodless land. A jigsaw of caked mud. Craters and crusted holes venting steam. A barren world. No life stirring.
How long she sat there, her mind intent on this naked vision, she could not have said. Yet when her telephone rang, she rose, quite sane, turned on the light, picked up the phone. The lobby attendant: could Mr. Mittle come up?
She greeted Ernie with a smile, almost as happy as his. They kissed, and he told her she was getting dreadfully thin, and he would have to fatten her up. She touched his cheek lovingly, so moved was she by his concern.
The white wine he carried was already chilled. She brought a corkscrew and glasses from the kitchen. They sat close together on the couch. They clinked glasses and looked into each other's eyes.
'How do you feel, darling?' he asked anxiously.
'Better now,' she said. 'You're here.'
He groaned with pleasure, kissed her poor, shriveled fingers.
He prattled on about his computer class, his job, their vacation plans. She smiled and nodded, nodded and smiled, searching his face. And all the time…
'Well,' he said briskly, slapping one knee as if they had come to the moment of decision in an important business haggle, 'have you thought about it, Zoe? Will you marry me?'
'Ernie, are you sure…?'
He rose and began to stalk about the dimly lighted room, carrying his wineglass.
'I certainly am sure,' he said stoutly. 'Zoe, I know this is the most important decision of my life, and I've considered it very carefully. Yes, I'm sure. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. No two ways about that! I know I don't have a great deal to offer you, but still… Love-you know? And a promise to work hard at making you happy.'
'I have nothing to offer,' she said faintly. 'Less than nothing.'
'Don't say that,' he cried.
He sat down again at her side. He put his glass on the cocktail table. He held her bony shoulders.
'Don't say that, darling,' he said tenderly. 'You have all I want. You are all I want. I just don't want to live without you. Say Yes.'
She stared at him, and through his clear, hopeful features saw again that sere, damned landscape, the gray smoke curling.
'All right,' she said in a low voice. 'Yes.'
'Oh, Zoe!' he said, clasped her to him, kissed her closed eyes, her dry lips. She put her arms softly about him, felt his warmth, his aliveness.
He moved her away.
'When?' he demanded. 'When?'
She smiled. 'Whenever you say, dear.'
'As soon as possible. The sooner the better. Listen, I've been thinking about it, planning it, and I'll tell you what I think would be best. If you don't agree, you tell me-all right? I mean, this is just my idea, and you might have some totally different idea on how we should do it, and if you do, I want you to tell me. Zoe? All right?'
'Of course, Ernie.'
'Well, I thought a small, quiet wedding. Just a few close friends. Unless you want your parents here?'
'Oh no.'
'And I don't want my family. Mostly because they can't afford to make the trip. Unless you want to go to Minnesota for the wedding?'
'No, let's have it here. A few close friends.'
'Right,' he said enthusiastically. 'And the money we save, we can spend on the, uh, you know, honeymoon. Just a small ceremony. If you like, we could have a reception afterward at my place or here at your place. Or we could rent a room at a hotel or restaurant. What do you think?'
'Let's keep it small and quiet,' she said. 'Not make a big, expensive fuss. We could have it right here.'
'Maybe we could have it catered,' he said brightly. 'It wouldn't cost so much. You know, just a light buffet, sandwiches maybe, and champagne. Like that.'
'I think that would be plenty,' she said firmly. 'Keep it short and simple.'
'Exactly,' he said, laughing gleefully. 'Short and simple. See? We're agreeing already! Oh Zoe, we're going to be so happy.'
He embraced her again. She gently disengaged herself to fill their wineglasses. They tinked rims in a solemn toast.
'We've got so much to do,' he said nervously. 'We've got to sit down together and make out lists. You know- schedules and who to invite and the church and all. And when we should-'
'Ernie,' she said, putting a palm to his hot cheek, 'do you really love me?'
'I do!' he groaned, turning his face to kiss her palm. 'I really do. More than anything or anyone in my life.'
'And I love you,' Zoe Kohler said. 'You're the kindest man I've ever known. The sweetest and nicest. I want to be with you always.'
'Always,' he vowed. 'Always together.'
She brought her face close, looked deep into his eyes.
'Darling,' she said softly, 'do you remember when we talked about-uh-you know-going to bed together? Sex?'
'Yes. I remember.'
'We agreed there had to be love and tenderness and understanding.'
