that? she said.
For you, he said.
How come? Why are you doing this? I don’t even understand why you’re here.
I told you. I want to help you.
You’re giving me this money.
Yes. That’s what I come for.
You don’t want nothing in return.
He shook his head.
She pushed the hair away from her face. I can still do things, she said. We could
go in the back bedroom. I don’t have no disease ornothing. She put out the cigarette in the ashtray on the table. I don’t look like
much but I could still give you a good time. You’d get your money’s worth.
I’m not doubting that, Dad said. But that’s not what I’m here for.
Are you a homo? she said. I wondered after that other time, when I was naked, when
I still looked okay.
What are you talking about?
Don’t you like women?
Of course I like women. I’m married. I’m still in love with my wife.
That don’t have to stop you, she said. If you’re not queer, are you just stupid?
Well, Dad said, I might be that.
She smiled for the first time and he saw she was missing a tooth. Jesus, I don’t know
about any of this, she said.
How much do you pay for this place? Dad said.
Why?
I’d like to know.
Four hundred dollars.
They pay the utilities?
He does. The old son of a bitch that owns the place.
Dad took out his checkbook. Who do you pay it to? What’s his name?
She told him. He wrote the check in the owner’s name and put it beside the cash. She
watched him suspiciously. He wrote the owner’s name in a little notebook. Then he
told her what he was going to do. There would be a rent check every month and something
extra for them to live on, and she could count on it, he would do these things without
fail.
I still don’t understand why you’re doing this.
I told you.
They talked some more and he learned that she was working at night. The woman across
the hall checked on the children after she got them to bed, after she left the apartment
to start her shift. That isn’t good, he said.
What else do you expect me to do?
You won’t have to do that anymore.
He stood up and looked around the little kitchen and looked once more at her and went
out past the two kids and walked out of the old house, and in the months following
he sent her the two checks at the beginning of each month, and by the end of the year
he decided to make a down payment on a little two-bedroom house in Arvada on the west
side of Denver. After that he sent the house payment to the bank that held the mortgage,
and she and the two children settled down in the new place. She got a daytime job
and paid for regular child care. So things were looking up. She was thin again and
her hair was cut nicely. He visited her once during that time but there was little
now to talk about.
Two years later there was a letter, written on yellow tablet paper. I got married,
I’m writing to tell you. He seems all right to me he’s sixteen years older but that
don’t matter. I don’t care about that now. Don’t send the money for the house no more
he wouldn’t understand. He don’t want somebody else’s help. And don’t contact me again.
We’re on our own now. Forget about me now. You done enough. I thank you for that,
the last part of it.
19
I N THE NIGHT he lay awake next to Mary in the downstairs bedroom unable to sleep, remembering
everything, taking all of his years into account. He decided he wanted to see the
nearby physical world once more. He could let go of it if he saw these familiar places
again.
They drove out on the Saturday morning in his good car, Lorraine behind the wheel,
Dad in the passenger seat and Mary in the back. There was a robe over him and he was
wearing his cap.
Now take it slow, he said. There’s no rush about this.
A bright hot windless July day, and they put the car windows down. They began by driving
past Berta May’s yellow house and at the south end of the street where it met the
highway
For you, he said.
How come? Why are you doing this? I don’t even understand why you’re here.
I told you. I want to help you.
You’re giving me this money.
Yes. That’s what I come for.
You don’t want nothing in return.
He shook his head.
She pushed the hair away from her face. I can still do things, she said. We could
go in the back bedroom. I don’t have no disease ornothing. She put out the cigarette in the ashtray on the table. I don’t look like
much but I could still give you a good time. You’d get your money’s worth.
I’m not doubting that, Dad said. But that’s not what I’m here for.
Are you a homo? she said. I wondered after that other time, when I was naked, when
I still looked okay.
What are you talking about?
Don’t you like women?
Of course I like women. I’m married. I’m still in love with my wife.
That don’t have to stop you, she said. If you’re not queer, are you just stupid?
Well, Dad said, I might be that.
She smiled for the first time and he saw she was missing a tooth. Jesus, I don’t know
about any of this, she said.
How much do you pay for this place? Dad said.
Why?
I’d like to know.
Four hundred dollars.
They pay the utilities?
He does. The old son of a bitch that owns the place.
Dad took out his checkbook. Who do you pay it to? What’s his name?
She told him. He wrote the check in the owner’s name and put it beside the cash. She
watched him suspiciously. He wrote the owner’s name in a little notebook. Then he
told her what he was going to do. There would be a rent check every month and something
extra for them to live on, and she could count on it, he would do these things without
fail.
I still don’t understand why you’re doing this.
I told you.
They talked some more and he learned that she was working at night. The woman across
the hall checked on the children after she got them to bed, after she left the apartment
to start her shift. That isn’t good, he said.
What else do you expect me to do?
You won’t have to do that anymore.
He stood up and looked around the little kitchen and looked once more at her and went
out past the two kids and walked out of the old house, and in the months following
he sent her the two checks at the beginning of each month, and by the end of the year
he decided to make a down payment on a little two-bedroom house in Arvada on the west
side of Denver. After that he sent the house payment to the bank that held the mortgage,
and she and the two children settled down in the new place. She got a daytime job
and paid for regular child care. So things were looking up. She was thin again and
her hair was cut nicely. He visited her once during that time but there was little
now to talk about.
Two years later there was a letter, written on yellow tablet paper. I got married,
I’m writing to tell you. He seems all right to me he’s sixteen years older but that
don’t matter. I don’t care about that now. Don’t send the money for the house no more
he wouldn’t understand. He don’t want somebody else’s help. And don’t contact me again.
We’re on our own now. Forget about me now. You done enough. I thank you for that,
the last part of it.
19
I N THE NIGHT he lay awake next to Mary in the downstairs bedroom unable to sleep, remembering
everything, taking all of his years into account. He decided he wanted to see the
nearby physical world once more. He could let go of it if he saw these familiar places
again.
They drove out on the Saturday morning in his good car, Lorraine behind the wheel,
Dad in the passenger seat and Mary in the back. There was a robe over him and he was
wearing his cap.
Now take it slow, he said. There’s no rush about this.
A bright hot windless July day, and they put the car windows down. They began by driving
past Berta May’s yellow house and at the south end of the street where it met the
highway
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