The door opened and he was in. I heard the locks unlocking—
N ew Y ork locks, real locks, I heard the cylinders turning, but
I didn’t grasp it, it was just a noise I couldn’t associate with
anything, and the door opened before I could register the
sound and he’s there, the g u y’s there, short, dark, w iry, sort o f
bent but from rage, a kind o f twisted anger in his muscles, he’s
tied in knots and it twists him all up and he’s raging all over the
apartment touching things and screaming and it’s him, they
told me he was locked up, it’s the guy, paranoid schizophrenic
they said, a very smart guy they said, but out o f control,
locked up, smart they said, a very smart guy but really fucked
up in the head, hears things, sees things, paranoid, has
delusions, and the landlady’s not here and no one’s here to
calm him down who knows him or to say who I am and he’s
screaming and I am saying who I am and saying the names o f
the landlady and his neighbors and saying, oh, they didn’t
know he’d be back, and I was just here for this second, a few
hours, a day, and I was just leaving, just now, and he’s
screaming and he’s hitting the table and he’s suddenly silent
and staring and he’s between me and m y stuff and I say I’ll be
back for it and he shouldn’t w orry and it’s all okay and o f
course it’s his place and I haven’t touched a thing, and I’m
trying to get m y coat but he’s in the w ay and he’s between me
and m y laundry bags, and me and m y papers, and I grab the
coat in a fast ju m p and swoop and I say the landlady will come
back for m y stuff or he can put it outside and he’s standing
there rigid and I run, I have the coat, I keep talking, I get out,
out o f the apartment, out o f the building, down the steps in the
hall, down the stoop, out, and I’ve got the keys to m y old
friend’s apartment, m y old peace friend, for the sofa outside
the kitchen and she got me the loony’s room and she said to
come back anytime so I turn to her, I’m pretty scared and I’m
shaking and I’m running and I don’t know if he’s calling the
police because there’s no one in the building to say who I am or
that they said I could stay there and I’m running to m y old
friend’s place and it’s a bitter cold night with the wind at about
fifteen miles an hour, under zero, the streets are deserted, they
are bare, and I think well okay, I’m safe, I got out, anybody’d
be shaking, I took everyone’s word that he wouldn’t be back
without enough warning, I relaxed, I took things out o f my
laundry bags, I was there a couple o f months nearly, I mean, I
never completely relax and I never completely unpack; and I
w asn’t asleep, thank God, but now I have to figure out where
to go, and I run to m y old friend’s apartment and I have the
keys in m y hand but I knock first because maybe she is there
and she is inside and she asks who it is and I say I am me and I
say what happened, that the guy came back, showed up,
opened the door, was in, and I ran and I need a place to sleep
