worship? Who would you give a kidney to? What would you go to the wall for?"
"A lot of things. Should I list them?" My voice went way up on the last word.
"Yes! Tell me five things you believe in. And no bullshit. Don't be cute, don't be clever. Say five Page 41
things right out of your heart, and don't think about it."
Offended, I tried to pull away. He held tight, which made me even more uneasy. "All right. I believe in my daughter. I believe in my work, when it's going well. I believe in . . . I don't know, Frannie, I'd have to think about it some more."
"Wouldn't do any good. Listening to you talk, all that cynicism leads you to one big fucking wall of nothing. You know the saying, 'The fox knows many things, but the hedgehog knows one big thing'? The difference between you and me is I have at least one big thing that matters and gives me direction.
I'm sure Edward Durant didn't kill Pauline. One day I'm going to prove who did.
"Even with all your success, you've got a fox's eyes, Sam -- nervous and edgy, they don't stay on any one thing too long.
"_I_ think you're back here because you're trying to get away from your life. Trying to return to some old part that's dead and safe. But maybe there'll be something in it to save you. That's really what attracts you, because where you are now is some Sunday in the middle of your life and the rest of your week looks pretty grim."
He let go of my hand and left the room. I heard him go down the stairs and then the sound of the television again. What was most interesting was the calmness of my heart. Normally bells and whistles would have been going off in there. I have a quick temper and an even quicker emergency defense system that throws up the walls in my soul whenever it is attacked. This time, however, my insides were as calm as the truth because that's exactly what he had spoken and I knew it.
We didn't see each other again that night. Around two in the morning, after rolling over and over the phrase 'one big thing,' I gave up hope of sleeping. I went downstairs to do whatever I could find to do in someone else's house after I'd just had my skin peeled off.
In the kitchen, the McCabe cupboards were an explosion of circus-colored junk-food boxes and a vast array of bottled hot sauces. The fridge had a hodgepodge of nasty-looking survivors from various takeout joints. When it came to food, Frannie called himselt a "gourmutt" and seemed pleased about it.
There was nothing else to do but turn on the Van Damme video for a few minutes and spend time with the Muscles from Brussels. I went to the machine to put in the video. Lying on top of it was a porno film titled _Dry Hard_. It starred Mona Loudly and from her picture on the box, Mona looked like better company for the midnight hour than Jean-Claude, so I put it in, figuratively speaking. A little porno now and then is good for the soul, and mine could have used a spicy diversion.
Before the film started, the company advertised some of its "Come -- ing Attractions!" A few minutes of sleaze to rev up our appetites for another trip to the dark corner of the video store. I laughed at the clip of the first one, settling into the mood. Then the second preview came on, _Swallow the Leader_.
Veronica Lake opened a door to a hunky-looking repairman. _My_ Veronica Lake.
One and a half minutes of my lover doing guess what with a Jeff Stryker look-alike.
I bet _you've_ never had that experience: The woman who is charmingly modest about undressing, always closes the door when she goes to the toilet, and likes to wear simple white nightgowns to bed is suddenly in front of you on a television screen, doing things only prisoners and misogynists dream of women doing.
_My_ Veronica Lake.
What is the decorum for asking your lover why they didn't tell you they acted in porno movies?
Where is Miss Manners when we really need her?
The next morning I called a friend who is a movie buff and also happens to be plugged into every
"A lot of things. Should I list them?" My voice went way up on the last word.
"Yes! Tell me five things you believe in. And no bullshit. Don't be cute, don't be clever. Say five Page 41
things right out of your heart, and don't think about it."
Offended, I tried to pull away. He held tight, which made me even more uneasy. "All right. I believe in my daughter. I believe in my work, when it's going well. I believe in . . . I don't know, Frannie, I'd have to think about it some more."
"Wouldn't do any good. Listening to you talk, all that cynicism leads you to one big fucking wall of nothing. You know the saying, 'The fox knows many things, but the hedgehog knows one big thing'? The difference between you and me is I have at least one big thing that matters and gives me direction.
I'm sure Edward Durant didn't kill Pauline. One day I'm going to prove who did.
"Even with all your success, you've got a fox's eyes, Sam -- nervous and edgy, they don't stay on any one thing too long.
"_I_ think you're back here because you're trying to get away from your life. Trying to return to some old part that's dead and safe. But maybe there'll be something in it to save you. That's really what attracts you, because where you are now is some Sunday in the middle of your life and the rest of your week looks pretty grim."
He let go of my hand and left the room. I heard him go down the stairs and then the sound of the television again. What was most interesting was the calmness of my heart. Normally bells and whistles would have been going off in there. I have a quick temper and an even quicker emergency defense system that throws up the walls in my soul whenever it is attacked. This time, however, my insides were as calm as the truth because that's exactly what he had spoken and I knew it.
We didn't see each other again that night. Around two in the morning, after rolling over and over the phrase 'one big thing,' I gave up hope of sleeping. I went downstairs to do whatever I could find to do in someone else's house after I'd just had my skin peeled off.
In the kitchen, the McCabe cupboards were an explosion of circus-colored junk-food boxes and a vast array of bottled hot sauces. The fridge had a hodgepodge of nasty-looking survivors from various takeout joints. When it came to food, Frannie called himselt a "gourmutt" and seemed pleased about it.
There was nothing else to do but turn on the Van Damme video for a few minutes and spend time with the Muscles from Brussels. I went to the machine to put in the video. Lying on top of it was a porno film titled _Dry Hard_. It starred Mona Loudly and from her picture on the box, Mona looked like better company for the midnight hour than Jean-Claude, so I put it in, figuratively speaking. A little porno now and then is good for the soul, and mine could have used a spicy diversion.
Before the film started, the company advertised some of its "Come -- ing Attractions!" A few minutes of sleaze to rev up our appetites for another trip to the dark corner of the video store. I laughed at the clip of the first one, settling into the mood. Then the second preview came on, _Swallow the Leader_.
Veronica Lake opened a door to a hunky-looking repairman. _My_ Veronica Lake.
One and a half minutes of my lover doing guess what with a Jeff Stryker look-alike.
I bet _you've_ never had that experience: The woman who is charmingly modest about undressing, always closes the door when she goes to the toilet, and likes to wear simple white nightgowns to bed is suddenly in front of you on a television screen, doing things only prisoners and misogynists dream of women doing.
_My_ Veronica Lake.
What is the decorum for asking your lover why they didn't tell you they acted in porno movies?
Where is Miss Manners when we really need her?
The next morning I called a friend who is a movie buff and also happens to be plugged into every
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