THEY REACH THE CORNER in silence. Then Liz stops and turns on Matthew a look he takes for sadness. Actually it’s the look that people employ when they have to convey bad news to someone toward whom they feel bottomless enmity. “Listen, Matthew,” she says, “I guess I’m kind of on edge. You know? It’s an unsettling period for me. Exciting, but unsettling. I’m a nervous wreck, to tell you the truth. And then seeing you again — and everything.”
“I can understand that.” Hope is revived.
“Well, look. There’s something I have to tell you. I wish I didn’t. It’s — oh, look, I have to tell you this. Belinda isn’t interested, you know. I mean, she isn’t interested in — well, she has something else going on. Something else entirely. She’s got this boy. This Italian boy. I mean he’s just a kid, and — gorgeous. I mean absolutely gorgeous.”
Matthew is speechless with anger and fear. He’s certain that what Liz is saying is true. He couldn’t say why he’s certain, but he is. He’s hearing the corroboration of his fears, and that’s something he is prepared to believe. But still there is a flicker of hope: Why is she telling me this?
Let’s see — to make you miserable —
No. No. It’s because she wants to clear my life. Get Belinda out of it. To make room for herself.
You can’t be serious.
“She didn’t tell you, I know,” says Liz. “She told me. I met him. I can’t wait to meet his friends, let me tell you.” This is said with such lust that it snuffs that flicker of hope. Where did this come from? Where did she get this kind of desire? What’s she been up to?
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. Come to think of it, you know him. Well, you don’t know him, but you’ve seen him. She met him in some restaurant, when she was with you. He was a waiter.”
“Taxi! Taxi!” It’s Matthew. He has run partway into the street and is hailing a cab. He wants Liz away from him, now, right now. The cab pulls to the curb and Matthew grabs Liz by the arm, pulls her to it. Her eyes are wide. He looks like someone she doesn’t know, someone whose next act she can’t predict. She’s too surprised to resist him. He yanks the door open and pushes her into the cab. “Take her where she wants to go,” he shouts at the driver, and he slams the door, putting his body behind it, and he pounds on the roof, again, again, and even in his fury he’s amazed to see that he dents it, surprised and pleased to see how much strength he’s built at Back Bay Bodies.
“Hey!” screams the driver, and in a second he’s out of the cab. “Hey!” again, but Matthew’s face is twisted, his teeth are clenched, his hands are bent like claws, and to the driver he looks capable of anything, eager for trouble, out of control. “Shit,” says the driver. He gets back into the cab and drives off in a hurry.
MATTHEW STANDS there for a moment, suddenly exhausted, drained. Then the snow, melting on his head, begins running down his neck. He shudders, and he begins walking home. At the corner of Dartmouth and Boylston, he pauses at one of the writings of the Neat Graffitist.
WHEN YOU COME TO THE END OF SOMETHING, BE CONTENT. YOU CAN’T UNDO WHAT’S BEEN DONE. THE BEST MARKER FOR THIS KIND OF WORK IS THE RUNZNOT® WATERPROOF MARKER. IT’S INDELIBLE.
The wind is driving the wet snow against the signal box on which this is written, but the letters are not running. Matthew stands at the writing for a couple of minutes, memorizing it. I’ll switch to Runznot, he tells himself. You can’t beat a testimonial like that.
AT NIGHT, deep in the night, Matthew hears cries, in his sleep, as if in his dreams. When these cries wake him, he realizes that they come not from his neighbor, but from himself. From this horrific discovery he takes a tiny satisfaction. At least it’s possible that his neighbor’s cries didn’t mean that he was leading a better life.
[to be continued]
In Topical Guide 543, Mark Dorset considers Foreshadowing from this episode.
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