Hear the Wind Sing

36

It took us a half hour to walk back to her apartment.

It was a pleasant-feeling night, and after she finished crying, she was frighteningly cheerful. On the way home, we popped into a few stores and shopped intently for things we didn’t really need. Things like strawberry-scented toothpaste and gaudy beach towels, some kind of puzzle made in Denmark, six ballpoint pens, clutching these things we walked uphill, occasionally pausing to look back towards the harbor.

“Hey, your car’s still parked over there, yeah?”

“I’ll go back and get it later.”

“Would you mind waiting until tomorrow?”

“I don’t mind.”

And then we took our time walking the rest of the way.

“I don’t want to be alone tonight.”

She was looking at the pavement on the street below as she said this.

I nodded.

“But you won’t be able to shine your dad’s shoes…”

“He should shine them himself once in a while.”

“Think he’ll do it, himself?”

“Yeah, he’s a man of integrity.”

It was a quiet night.

She turned over slowly in her sleep, pushing her nose against my right shoulder.

“I’m cold.”

“You’re cold? It’s eighty-six degrees!”

“I don’t know, but I’m cold.”

I grabbed the blanket that had been kicked down past our feet and pulled it up to our necks and then held her. Her body was rattling a little as she shook ever so slightly.

“Are you feeling well?”

She shook her head a little.

“I’m scared.”

“Of?”

“Everything. You’re not scared?”

“Not particularly.”

She was silent. It was a silence as if she were taking my answer by its hand to confirm its existence.

“You want to have sex with me?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m sorry. I can’t today.”

Still embracing her, I nodded, saying nothing.

“I just had the operation.”

“A baby?”

“Yes.”

She lessened the pressure with which she was moving her hand around on my back, using her fingers to make small circles behind my shoulders over and over again.

“It’s strange, I don’t remember a thing.”

“Yeah?”

“The man. I’ve completely forgotten him. I can’t even remember his face.”

I patted her hair with my palm.

“I felt like I could really fall for him. For just a short instant…you ever fall in love with someone?”

“Yeah.”

“Can you remember her face?”

I tried to imagine the faces of the three girls from before, but it was strange, I couldn’t bring even one of them clearly into mind.

“Nope,” I said.

“Strange. Why do you think that is?”

“Probably because that would be too easy.”

With the side of her face pressed to my chest, she nodded silently a few times.

“You know, if you really want to do it, we can probably do something else…”

“Nah, don’t worry about it.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

She once again increased the pressure behind the hand she was moving around on my back. I could feel her breasts on the center of my stomach. I really wanted to drink a beer.

“Starting quite a few years back, I’ve failed at lots of things.”

“How many years, do you think?”

“Twelve, thirteen…the year my father got sick. I don’t remember a single thing before that. Just a bunch of bad stuff. There’s always an unlucky wind blowing above my head.”

“The winds can change direction.”

“You really think so?”

“It’s gotta happen sometime.”

She was quiet for a moment. In the midst of the dryness of that desert-like silence, she took a second to soak up my words, leaving only bitterness in her mouth.

“I’ve tried many times to believe that, but it’s never worked out. I’ve tried to get close to people, tried to be more patient, but…”

Without saying another word, we put our arms around each other. She put her head on my chest, her lips nestled lightly on my nipple and was still for a lone time, as if asleep.

For a long time, a really long time, she was silent. Half-dozing, I gazed up at the dark ceiling.

“Mom…” she murmured softly, as if in a dream. She was sleeping.