“Especially since it’s just a stupid accident,” I added.
“There, you see…?” said the old one.
Halfheartedly the cop lowered his gun. He ran his hand through his hair.
“One of these days we’re going to be in deep shit if we aren’t more careful. You’re asking for it. Didn’t it occur to you to frisk this guy? No, of course not. All you’re interested in is making me put my gun away, right…?”
“Listen, Richard, don’t take it personally.”
“Yeah. Right. Shit, man, every time it’s the same story…”
He leaned over furiously and picked up his hat, then got into the car and slammed the door. He pretended to look elsewhere, chewing on his thumbnail. The old cop looked irked.
“Jesus Christ,” he said. “You know, I been in this business forty years. I think I ought to know by now when to start getting suspicious.”
“Fine. Knock yourself out. I couldn’t care less…”
“Hey… look at them, would you? The girl can hardly stand up, and the guy-I’d break his head open before he could make half a move…”
“Leave me alone…”
“You’re a real pill, you know that?”
The young one leaned over to roll up the window. Then he turned the siren on and folded his arms. The old one got livid. He ran over to the car, but the other one had locked the doors from the inside.
“OPEN UP! STOP THAT RIGHT NOW!!” he screamed.
Betty put her hands over her ears. Poor thing, she had barely gotten her wits back-she must have been totally confused. It was clearly just another tacky police patrol. The old one was leaning over the hood, looking through the windshield, the veins in his neck sticking out like rope.
“RICHARD, I’M NOT KIDDING NOW…I’M GIVING YOU TWO SECONDS TO TURN THAT OFF, YOU HEAR ME?”
The horror lasted another few seconds, then Richard turned the thing off. The old guy came back, wiping his hand across his forehead. He scratched the end of his nose, his eyes staring nowhere. The silence was refreshing.
“Pffff…” he said. “All they send us now are the young, supertrained ones. I think it damages their nerves a little…”
“Sorry. It’s my fault,” I said.
Betty was wiping her nose off behind me. The old guy pulled his pants up a little. I looked up at the starlit sky.
“You just passing through?” he asked.
“We’re taking over the piano store,” I said. “We know the owner.”
“Yeah? You mean Eddie?”
“Yeah. You know him?”
He gave me a bright smile.
“I know everybody. I haven’t left town since the last war.”
I shivered.
“You cold?” he asked.
“Huh? Oh yeah, yeah. I’m frozen stiff.”
“Okay, why don’t you both just get in the car? We’ll take you home.”
“No bother?”
“No. I just don’t like to see folks walking around these warehouses. Nobody’s got any business here at night.”
Five minutes later they dropped us off in front of the house. The old cop put his head out the window while we got out.
“Hey, I hope your little lover’s quarrel is over for tonight, eh?”
“Yes,” I said.
Betty opened the door and went up while I watched them go. I waited till they disappeared down the street. If I hadn’t been so cold I wouldn’t have been able to lift my feet off the sidewalk. I was totally blank just then, like I was opening my eyes after a lobotomy. But it was a winter’s night and the sky was clear. The icy air had the street in its grip, and it was torturing me. I took the opportunity to whimper a little bit, then turned back to the house.
I went upstairs as well as I could with a cracked knee and the certainty that I had caught my death that night. Still, I had to smile when I hit the apartment and found it so warm. I felt like I was slipping into an apple turnover.
Betty was lying on the bed. She was still dressed, her back to me. I sat down in a chair, my knee held out straight and my arm slung over the backrest. Goddamn son of a bitch, I said, deep down inside of me, watching her breathe. The silence seemed like a rainfall of sequins on glue-covered toast. We had still not exchanged one word.
But life goes on. I got up and went to examine my leg in the bathroom. I pulled my pants down. My knee was round, almost shiny-not too pretty to look at. When I stood up, I looked at myself in the mirror. The head goes well with the knee, I said, they go hand in hand: if one brings tears to your eyes, the other one just makes you scream out loud. I was joking, but it’s true that I had no idea what to put on my knee-we didn`t have anything even vaguely resembling salve in our first-aid kit. In the end I just rolled my pant leg down as gently as I could, swallowed two aspirin, and went back into the living room carrying what was left of the Mercurochrome, some cotton compresses, and a large bandage.
“I think we ought to redo your bandage,” I said.
I stood there like I was waiting to take her order. She didn’t move. She was in exactly the same position she’d been in a while before-it’s possible that her knees were a little closer to her chest, or that a lock of hair had fallen off her shoulder in absolute silence, but I wouldn’t have sworn to it. I squeezed the back of my neck a while before going over for a closer look. It made me look like I was thinking of something. I wasn’t.
She was sleeping. I sat down next to her.
“You awake?” I said.
I leaned over to take her shoes off. They were sort of tennis shoes-ideal for crossing town at a dead run. It made you wonder about the logic of things. Only yesterday, she’d been walking around in stiletto heels, me waiting to catch her at the foot of the stairs. I tossed the little white things off the foot of the bed and unzipped her windbreaker. She was still sleeping.
I went to get some Kleenex to blow my nose. I sucked on a couple of throat lozenges while washing my hands. The night now seemed like a storm over a forest fire. I took some deep breaths and let the water run over my hands for a few minutes. I closed my eyes.
After that I went back to take care of her bandage. I went about it gently, as if I were putting a splint on the foot of a bird. I took the gauze off, millimeter by millimeter, without waking her. I delicately spread her hand out to make sure that the cuts were clean, and put the Mercurochrome on with the little pipette. I rebandaged it-just tight enough-and cleaned the blood out from under her nails. I got as much of it out as I could. I knew I was going to fall in love with her little scars. I could feel it.
I downed a big glass of hot rum in the kitchen. It made me sweat, but I knew I had to medicate myself in one way or another. I picked up the pieces of glass from the window, then went back to her. I smoked a cigarette. I wondered if I hadn’t chosen the hardest path-if living with a woman wasn’t perhaps the most terrible thing a man can do-if it wasn’t like his selling his soul to the devil or growing a third eye. I remained plunged in the abyss of perplexity, until Betty started moving. She was rolling around gently in her sleep. A breath of fresh air crossed my soul, banishing my dark thoughts like mouthwash on bad breath.
You should get her into bed, I told myself, she must be uncomfortable like that. I picked a magazine up off the floor and thumbed through it distractedly. My horoscope told me that I would have a difficult week at the office, though the time was right to ask for a raise. I’d noticed already how the world was starting to shrink. Nothing much surprised me anymore. I got up to eat an orange-brilliant as lightning and chock-full of vitamin C then went back to her, faster than a speeding bullet.
I put on my magic fingers to undress her. It was like a huge game of pick-up sticks-breathe wrong and you lose. I had a hell of a time with her sweater, trying to get her head through the neck opening. She started twitching her eyelashes when I did. I felt the perspiration pearl up on my forehead-I just made it by a hair. After that, I decided not to worry about taking off her T-shirt or her bra. I wasn’t going to fret over a couple of straps-I just unbuckled it.