Part 35 (1/2)

He was aware of a presence nearby, but for some time he waited, just feeling it there, trying to surmise its ma.s.s and weight, its goals and intentions and allegiances, before opening his eyes. He had no more strength for enemies.

When finally he looked, he found Priscilla beside him. She sat hunched on the embankment, hugging her knees, dressed in blue shorts and a blouse with little red rosebuds on it. Her hair and clothing were wet. She was looking down at the traffic, crying.

Moose sat upright. He felt confused, baffled, guilty, caught among the dregs of some unspeakable debauch. ”Darling,” he said, and put his arms around Priscilla, his sodden arms around his slender wife, who smelled of wet carnations. She sobbed quietly, her smooth and lovely face reversed, showing its rough, nubbly underside. ”Edmund, why?” she said.

”I can't explain.”

She sniffled, wiping her eyes. ”I know,” she said.

She was calming down, Moose noted with relief. She was becoming visibly calmer. She was very nearly calm again, his Priscilla.

”You didn't come home,” she said. ”I was scared.”

”I'm sorry, baby.”

He was sheepish, unsure himself what had happened exactly, why his pants were streaked with black ink. With Priscilla beside him, the paroxysms of the past several hours seemed already to have folded into something very small.

”Did you take your medication?” she asked.

He nodded, seizing her hand. His wife. It seemed impossible to Moose that she could really be his. The world felt so quiet, the traffic sounds hushed and sibilant as prayer. And amidst this stillness, Moose managed to a.s.semble courage, peace of mind, reason, logic-those scattered, blinkered troops who for the past several hours had rampaged without a general-marshaled them into formation, took a long, very deep breath, and told his wife, as evenly as he could manage, ”Charlotte doesn't want to study with me anymore.”

”Oh,” Priscilla said, her whole face parting in sympathy at this news. ”Oh, that's so disappointing. It must be.” Stroking his muddy head, and when Moose heard her reaction-disappointed for him, yes, but calm, presuming of both their continued survivals-he felt relief.

”Let's go home,” he said.

It was dark. The lights of his car were still on, but dim. Moose flicked on the hazards, locked the car and climbed into Priscilla's Capri. She drove, legs wet with rain. At home, she would call Triple A to pick up his car. She'd done it before.

She would serve him Campbell's tomato soup with saltines and put him to bed. For the next few days he would feel tired, peaceful.

Yet even now, as they drove along the interstate toward home, sorrow clung to Priscilla, a veil so thin it was nearly transparent. A cobweb. She was sad, he had made her sad. Again.

”Should we go to the movies tomorrow?” Moose asked, working to find some joviality in himself. ”It's Sat.u.r.day.”

”I have to work.”

”The next day, then.”

She nodded without conviction. A scrim had appeared between them, and it frightened Moose.

”We need milk,” he said. ”Should we stop at the Logli?”

”I did.”

Minutes pa.s.sed. A terrible silence spun open.

”When I'm feeling better,” Moose said at last, haltingly, ”when all this is behind us, I-I'd like to take you on a vacation.”

His wife said nothing.

”Just the two of us, somewhere nice,” he forged on. ”To unwind, to relax.”

And as he blundered heedlessly, desperately into this disclosure, this secret plan he'd h.o.a.rded for more than a year, Moose recognized that in speaking it aloud to Priscilla he would make it real. There would be no possibility of retreat.

”I was thinking of ... of Hawaii,” Hawaii,” he said, the very word a yelp of fear. Moose leapt, threw himself from this cliff. ”How does that sound to you?” he said, the very word a yelp of fear. Moose leapt, threw himself from this cliff. ”How does that sound to you?”

There was a long pause, during which he fell, fell, swiveling his limbs in the open air. But when Priscilla looked at him again, he saw renewal. Resurgence. A flame lighting her face. Faith returned to his wife like a soul reanimating a corpse. Moose sank back in his seat and shut his eyes.