Melancholy Baby

20

We were on our third pot of coffee. She’d drunk most of it. But I’d drunk enough to make my nerves jitter. Sarah was through crying for now. She was smoking.

“But why can’t we just do what they want and they’ll leave us alone.”

“And you’ll never know what’s being covered up,” I said.

“So,” she said, “I won’t know. You didn’t see the look in that man’s face when he put his heel into my crotch.”

“He meant that look,” I said. “He wanted you to feel not only scared but small and powerless.”

“Well, I am. Why not just face it and get on with my life.”

I leaned back in my chair and waved the cigarette smoke away from my face. If we were going to do much of this, we’d have to have some arrangement.

“Because,” I said, “and you’ll have to excuse the psychological jargon, you are a fucking mess.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Sarah said.

“It means that you use too many drugs, and drink too much booze, and smoke too many cigarettes, and screw too many men you don’t like.”

“Yeah, well maybe you’d be a little messed up, too, if you grew up like me.”

“I am messed up,” I said. “It takes one to know one. But I’m trying to fix what’s wrong with me. You’re just going to walk away.”

“What’s wrong with you?”

“I’ll let you know,” I said, “when I know. Right now it’s about you. You let them scare us away from this and you can kiss any chance for happiness goodbye.”

She laughed an awful little laugh.

“Happiness?” she said.

“You can stay here with me,” I said. “No one knows you’re here. I can protect you. If we need them, I have friends who can protect you. If you’ll let me, I will do this for you.”

“Where am I going to sleep?” she said.

“Fold-out bed,” I said. “In the couch.”

Sarah flapped her hand to indicate the openness of my space.

“We’d live together in the same room?” Sarah said.

“I know. It’s lousy, but it needs to be done.”

“Is there another bathroom?”

“No,” I said. “We’ll share.”

“Share one bathroom?”

“I know it’s icky, but people do it.”

“I got no clothes or anything.”

“Some of my stuff will fit you. The rest I can buy for you.”

“I don’t have any money with me.”

“I’ll put it on my bill,” I said.

“And you promise I’ll be safe?”

“You’ll be safe,” I said.

“Why are you pushing me so hard to do this.”

“I care about you?”

Sarah laughed that awful little laugh again.

“You must really need the money,” she said. “To do this.”

“That’s it,” I said. “The money.”