-- You told me.

-- Good arms.

-- Oh my God hes got it out in his hands. Oh my God hes pointing his gun at it.

-- Say youre sorry.

-- Go take a poke.

-- Youre going to say youre sorry!

-- Didnt I tell you?

-- Whats to comb? Whats he doing now?

-- Someones sitting on our garbage can?

-- I was unforgivable.

-- Was I sorry enough?

-- Im not sorry.

-- Was I sorry enough?

-- Doubt you could penetrate.

-- I would not argue otherwise.

-- With the chain --

-- That time that guy was after you --

-- Yes they do seem to be carrying cudgels now, Ive noticed that. Big knobby cudgels.

-- Naw he wasnt the one with the chain he was the other one. With the cudgel.

-- The gate.

-- Im not sorry.

-- A mere scant shallow preludium, madame, to the remarks I shall bend in your direction should you persist.

-- Yes it is impressive. Stuffed with banana paste.

-- Of course he will. Hell return, open the gate with one hand, look up and see your face in the window.

-- Stick him with the spines of sea urchins.

-- Yes, quite good.

-- Whos Andy deGroot?

-- Let me look.

-- Ive had hell with that gate. In winter, without gloves, yanking, late at night, turning my head to see who might be behind me --

-- He rages constantly.

-- Its a style, makes a statement, something to do with their pricks I imagine.

-- Are you okay?

-- Cincinnati.

-- So thats Andy.

-- Hes combing his head. Got him a steel comb, maybe aluminum.

-- Yes. Whats that suck九*九*藏*书*网er doing now?

-- William! Im sorry!

-- Terrific. Very terrific.

-- Yes Im fine. Just a little out of breath.

-- He looks all right.

-- Thats kind of you. Kind.

-- Well screw it. Its six of one and half dozen of the other to me. I dont care.

-- Hell never come back. Not now.

-- No.

-- Never.

-- Wait. What is it that makes you spring up so, my heart?

-- Hell come back. New lines on his meager face. Yet with head held high.

-- Well. Whats next? Do a little honky-tonking maybe, hit a few bars?

-- Is it he?

-- Wow babe thats terrific babe. Very terrific.

-- I knew him long ago, and far away.

-- Andys put everything away!

-- The sound of the gate. The gate opening.

-- William Im sorry I let my brother hoist you up the mast in that crappy jury-rigged bosuns chair while everybody laughed! William Im sorry I could build better fires than you could! Im sorry my stack of Christmas cards was always bigger than yours!

-- Your wan, white back. Your green, bifurcated French jeans. Red lines on your back. Cat hair on your jeans.

-- Well. I see what you mean.

-- Looks like he might fly into a rage if crossed.

-- Genuine sorrow is gold. If you cant do it, fake it.

-- I cannot. Whats next? Cant sit here all night. Im nervous. Look on the bright side, maybe hell go away. Hes got a gun stuck in his belt, a belly gun, I saw it. I scraped the oatmeal out of the pot youll be glad to know. Used the mitt, the black九九藏书 mitt. Throw something at him, a spear or a rock. Open the window first. Spears in the closet. I can lend you a rock if you dont have a rock. Hurt him. Make him go away. Make the other return. Stir up the fire. Put on some music. Have you no magic? Why do I know you? What are you good for? Why are you here? Fetch me some chocolate? Massage?

-- Yes open the window.

-- What?

-- My devotion. Ive disabused him a hundred times, to little avail. If he rings, dont answer. Of course hes more into standing outside and gazing up.

-- We could. If you feel like it. Was I sorry enough?

-- Hell never come back. Until you say it.

-- The black iron gate, difficult to open. Takes two hands. I can see it. Its closed.

-- Guy I know. Melville Fisher Kirkland Leland & deGroot.

-- Sitting. On a garbage can.

-- William! William, wherever you are!

-- Andy has bestirred himself.

-- Oh my God. Shall we call the cops?

-- Well Andys run away howling.

-- We could go out in the street and hit on him, drive him away with blows and imprecations.

-- Be damned if I will. Damned a thousand times.

-- Maybe thats not illegal?

-- Open the window?

-- Forgive me I didnt mean that.

-- Adjusting his pants. Hes zipping.

-- Hes standing there.

-- William Im sorry you dont ski and Im sorry about your back and Im sorry I invented bop jogging which you couldnt do! Im sorry I loved Antigua! Im sorry my mind wandered when you talked about the arm九*九*藏*书*网y! Im sorry I was superior in argument! Im sorry you slit open my bicycle tires looking for incriminating letters that you didnt find! Youll never find them!

-- Then you forfeit the sunshine of his poor blasted face forever. You are dumb, if I may say so, dumb, dumb. Its easy. Its like saying thank you. Myself, I shower thanks everywhere. Thank people for their kindness, thank them for their courtesy. Thank them for their thoughtfulness. Thank them for little things they do if they do little things that are kind, courteous, or thoughtful. Thank them for coming to my house and thank them for leaving. Thank them for what they are about to do as well as thank them for what they have already done, thank them in public and then take them aside privately and thank them again. Thank the thankless and thank the already adequately thanked. In fine, let no occasion pass to slip the chill blade of my thanks between the ribs of every human ear.

-- Yes. Engaged then in the manufacture of gearshafts Had quite a nice wife at that period, name of CALEDONIA. She split. Then another wife, Cecile as I recall, ran away with a gibbon. Then another wife whose name tax my memory as I may cannot be brought to consciousness, think I spilled something on her once, something that stained. Shectoo evaporated. He came here and joined Melville Fisher etc. Fell in love with a secretary. Polly. She had a beaded curtain in front of her九*九*藏*书*网 office door and burnt incense. Quite exotic, for Melville Fisher. She ended up in the harem of one of those mystics, a maharooni. Met the old boy once, he grasped my nose and pulled, I felt a great surge of something. Like I was having my nose pulled.

-- Sitting on the floor by the window with only part of my face in the window. Hell never come back.

-- What?

-- Whats he doing?

-- Probably have little or no effect.

-- I was unforgivable.

-- Open the window.

-- William! Im sorry I looked at Sam but he was so handsome, so handsome, who could not! Im sorry I slept with Sam! Im sorry about the library books! Im sorry about Pete! Im sorry I never played the guitar you gave me! William! Im sorry I married you and Ill never do it again!

-- And say what?

-- It is not. It is someone.

-- Wow.

-- Act.

-- But hes a friend of yours so you say.

-- How pale the brow! How pallid the cheek! How chalk the neck! How floury the shoulders! And so on. Say youre sorry.

-- Perhaps a new gown, in fawn or taupe. That might be a giggle. Meanwhile, I am planted on this floor. Sitting on the floor by the window with only my great dark eyes visible. My great dark eyes and, in moments of agitation, my great dark nose. Ogled by myriads of citizens bopping down these Chucks Pizza-plated streets.

-- I dont disagree.

-- Andy quails. Thats good.

-- Powerful forehead on him.

-- I just meant you could throw him a bone is all I meant. A note wri九九藏书tten on pale-blue notepaper, in an unsteady hand. "Dear William, it is one of the greatest regrets of my poor life that --"

-- Okay the windows open.

-- Yes I feel much better.

-- He may. He might. Its possible. Your position, there in the window, strongly suggests that the affair has yet some energy unexpended. That the magnetic north of your brain may attract his wavering needle still.

-- You are censorious, madame.

-- I dont want to be the first you do it.

-- I know him. Andy deGroot. Looking up at our windows.

-- Yes he is all right. Thats Andy.

-- Ah the hell with it. Sitting here with my head hanging in the window, what a way for a grown woman to spend her time.

-- But bathed nevertheless by the heat of the fire, which spreads a pleasing warming tickle across your bare back --

-- Many ways a grown woman can spend her time. Many ways. Lace-making. Feeding the golden carp. Fibonacci numbers.

-- Shall we call the cops?

-- I got no friends babe, no friends, no friends. When you get down to the nut-cutting.

-- The creep --

-- Whats he want?

-- Sitting on the floor by the window with only part of my face in the window, the upper part, face truncated under the eyes by the what do you call it, sill.

-- Hell never come back.

-- You are aware dear colleague are you not that I cannot abide, cannot abide, even the least wrinkle of vulgarity in social discourse? And that this "zipping" as you call it --