[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
.No innards. Ah, but it s a good thing, you see, because there s all this extra room in there.Think of all the stuff youcould put inside you if you didn t have all those silly kidneys and stomachs and pancreases and whatnot.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html Like what? She s very wet.I remove my hand and carefully rip open the condom packet with myteeth, a maneuver I haven t performed in years. Kangaroos.Toaster ovens.Penises.Clare takes the condom from me with fascinated distaste.She s lying on her back and she unfurls it andsniffs it. Ugh.Must we?Although I often refuse to tell Clare things, I seldom actually lie to her.I feel a twinge of guilt as I say,  Fraid so. I retrieve it from her, but instead of putting it on I decide that what we really need here iscunnilingus.Clare, in her future, is addicted to oral sex and will leap tall buildings in a single bound andwash the dishes when it s not her turn in order to get it.If cunnilingus were an Olympic event I wouldmedal, no doubt about it.I spread her out and apply my tongue to her clit. OhGod, Clare says in a low voice. SweetJesus. No yelling, I warn.Even Etta and Nell will come down to the Meadow to see what s wrong if Clarereally gets going.In the next fifteen minutes I take Clare several steps down the evolutionary ladder untilshe s pretty much a limbic core with a few cerebral cortex peripherals.I roll on the condom and slowly,carefully slide into Clare, imagining things breaking and blood cascading around me.She has her eyesclosed and at first I think she s not even aware that I m actually inside her even though I m directly overher but then she opens her eyes and smiles, triumphant, beatific.I manage to come fairly quickly; Clare is watching me, concentrating, and as I come I see her face turnto surprise.How strange things are.What odd things we animals do.I collapse onto her.We are bathedin sweat.I can feel her heart beating.Or perhaps it s mine.I pull out carefully and dispose of the condom.We lie, side by side, looking at the very blue sky.Thewind is making a sea sound with the grass.I look over at Clare.She looks a bit stunned. Hey.Clare. Hey she says weakly. Did it hurt? Yes. Did you like it? Oh, yes! she says, and starts to cry.We sit up, and I hold her for a while.She is shaking. Clare.Clare.What s wrong?I can t make out her reply at first, then:  You re going away.Now I won t see you for years and years. Only two years.Two years and a few months. She is quiet. Oh, Clare.I m sorry.I can t help it.It sfunny, too, because I was just lying here thinking what a blessing today was.To be here with you makinglove instead of being chased by thugs or freezing to death in some barn or some of the other stupid shit Iget to deal with.And when I go back, I m with you.And today was wonderful. She is smiling, a little.Ikiss her.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html How come I always have to wait? Because you have perfect DNA and you aren t being thrown around in time like a hot potato.Besides,patience is a virtue. Clare is pummel-ing my chest with her fists, lightly. Also, you ve known me yourwhole life, whereas I only meet you when I m twenty-eight.So I spend all those years before wemeet  Fucking other women. Well, yeah.But, unbeknownst to me, it s all just practice for when I meet you.And it s very lonely andweird.If you don t believe me, try it yourself.I ll never know.It s different when you don t care. I don t want anybody else. Good. Henry just give me a hint.Where do you live? Where do we meet? What day? One hint.Chicago More. Have faith.It s all there, in front of you. Are we happy? We are often insane with happiness.We are also very unhappy for reasons neither of us can doanything about.Like being separated. So all the time you re here now you re not with me then? Well, not exactly.I may end up missing only ten minutes.Or ten days.There s no rule about it.That swhat makes it hard, for you.Also, I sometimes end up in dangerous situations, and I come back to youbroken and messed up, and you worry about me when I m gone.It s like marrying a policeman. I mexhausted.I wonder how old I actually am, in real time.In calendar time I m forty-one, but with all thiscoming and going perhaps I m really forty-five or -six.Or maybe I m thirty-nine.Who knows? There ssomething I have to tell her; what was it? Clare? Henry. When you see me again, remember that I won t know you; don t be upset when you see me and I treatyou like a total stranger, because to me you will be brand new.And please don t blow my mind witheverything all at once.Have mercy, Clare. I will! Oh, Henry stay! Shh.I ll be with you. We lie down again.The exhaustion permeates me and I will be gone in a minute.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html I love you, Henry.Thank you for.my birthday present. I love you, Clare.Be good.I m gone.SECRETThursday, February 10, 2005 (Clare is 33, Henry is 41)Clare:It s Thursday afternoon and I m in the studio making pale yellow kozo paper.Henry s been gonefor almost twenty-four hours now, and as usual I m torn between thinking obsessively about when andwhere he might be and being pissed at him for not being here and worrying about when he ll be back.It snot helping my concentration and I m ruining a lot of sheets; I plop them off the su and back into the vat.Finally I take a break and pour myself a cup of coffee.It s cold in the studio, and the water in the vat issupposed to be cold although I have warmed it a little to save my hands from cracking.I wrap my handsaround the ceramic mug.Steam wafts up.I put my face over it, inhale the moisture and coffee smell [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]