grunted into the chip bag. Danae pensively contemplated her yogurt cup.
“What stuff?” I asked, trying to keep my voice light. Aubrey studied a particularly vexing paragraph. Danae fished Patrick Ness’s
The Crash of Hennington
from her purse. Warren continued inhaling my bag of Old Dutch Bar-B-Q. I waited under an oppressive passive-aggressive umbrella of silence, feeling left out. “Well,” I started. Danae jumped at the noise. “Much as I’d love to continue this atmosphere of rejection, I guess I’ll go check the shelves, see if anything strikes my fancy.”
“What do you read, friend?” asked Aubrey, his face submerged in Wallace’s prose.
“Whatever strikes a nerve,” I said testily. I was ridiculously offended, somehow, that these strangers had secrets they didn’t want to share with me. “I’ll read whatever I choose. If, of course, that’s all right with the three of you.” I stalked out, immersing myself in the territory of words outside.
After work ended for the day, having been instructed by Danae on how to search for unavailable books and deal with difficult customers, i.e. keep agreeing with them until they’ve worn themselves out, and exhausted from the unending barrage of best-forgotten consumer questions (a highlight: “Where are the books where animals solve crimes?”) I fled into the night, an Auster wedged under my arm. I passed Aubrey on the way out, saw him nodding approvingly at my reading material, and decided to play the small-minded victim and snub him.
I walked home, curled up in my papasan, cracked open
The Book of Illusions
, and did my best to forget the day, forget the past, forget that this was undoubtedly the first day of the rest of a very long, dull, disappointing life. I should have quit then, but the lure of more free books brought me back the next day.
I think I’ll leave on a cliffhanger. My fingers are tired, andDetective Daimler is undoubtedly itching to get this letter to the shrinks down at Quantico to glean some fresh insights into my psychosis.
Yours truly,
Thomas
DOCUMENT INSERT: Verbatim FBI tape recorder transcript. Speaking: FBI Detective Amanda Daimler (primary), RCMP Detective Mel George,
Doctor Barbara Carella, Munroe Purvis.
DAIMLER: Mr. Purvis, can you hear me? Can he hear me?
CARELLA: I’m sorry, he comes and goes, I told you.
DAIMLER: Can you give him something? Wake him up?
CARELLA: I’m afraid he’s very critical at the moment. I couldn’t risk it. I think you should come back. I’ll call if there’s any change in his condition.
DAIMLER: Yes, I guess — wait, his eyes are open.Mr. Purvis, can you hear me? Nod if you can hear me. Mr. Purvis, my name is Detective Daimler, I’m an agent with the FBI. Detective George with the RCMP is also present. We’d like to ask you a few questions, if you’re up to it.
PURVIS: Hurts.
DAIMLER: Doc?
CARELLA: I’m sorry, Mr. Purvis, I cannot increase the dosage. This is a bad idea, Detective, he’s in no condition —
DAIMLER: No, we need to do this now. Mr. Purvis, can you answer a few questions?
PURVIS: Yes.
DAIMLER: Good. We’ll go slow, okay? Can you tell me anything about what happened to you?
PURVIS: Where am I?
DAIMLER: You’re in Winnipeg, sir, St. Boniface
General Hospital.
PURVIS: What happened?
DAIMLER: Has no one told him anything?
CARELLA: No, I thought it best you tell him.I’ve had my hands full with the press.
DAIMLER: Right, keep them out of here, all right? We’re going to put an officer outside to keep people out. Can you do that, Mel?
GEORGE: No problem.
DAIMLER: Mr. Purvis, you’ve been in a coma for two weeks, do you remember anything?
PURVIS: Weeks?
DAIMLER: Yes, two weeks. After your program, your show in Winnipeg, do you remember what happened?
PURVIS: Yes.
DAIMLER: Afterward, your bodyguard, Mr., uh,
Daly, he said he took you straight to your hotel room. Is this correct?
PURVIS: Yes.
DAIMLER: You were last seen going into your room at
“What stuff?” I asked, trying to keep my voice light. Aubrey studied a particularly vexing paragraph. Danae fished Patrick Ness’s
The Crash of Hennington
from her purse. Warren continued inhaling my bag of Old Dutch Bar-B-Q. I waited under an oppressive passive-aggressive umbrella of silence, feeling left out. “Well,” I started. Danae jumped at the noise. “Much as I’d love to continue this atmosphere of rejection, I guess I’ll go check the shelves, see if anything strikes my fancy.”
“What do you read, friend?” asked Aubrey, his face submerged in Wallace’s prose.
“Whatever strikes a nerve,” I said testily. I was ridiculously offended, somehow, that these strangers had secrets they didn’t want to share with me. “I’ll read whatever I choose. If, of course, that’s all right with the three of you.” I stalked out, immersing myself in the territory of words outside.
After work ended for the day, having been instructed by Danae on how to search for unavailable books and deal with difficult customers, i.e. keep agreeing with them until they’ve worn themselves out, and exhausted from the unending barrage of best-forgotten consumer questions (a highlight: “Where are the books where animals solve crimes?”) I fled into the night, an Auster wedged under my arm. I passed Aubrey on the way out, saw him nodding approvingly at my reading material, and decided to play the small-minded victim and snub him.
I walked home, curled up in my papasan, cracked open
The Book of Illusions
, and did my best to forget the day, forget the past, forget that this was undoubtedly the first day of the rest of a very long, dull, disappointing life. I should have quit then, but the lure of more free books brought me back the next day.
I think I’ll leave on a cliffhanger. My fingers are tired, andDetective Daimler is undoubtedly itching to get this letter to the shrinks down at Quantico to glean some fresh insights into my psychosis.
Yours truly,
Thomas
DOCUMENT INSERT: Verbatim FBI tape recorder transcript. Speaking: FBI Detective Amanda Daimler (primary), RCMP Detective Mel George,
Doctor Barbara Carella, Munroe Purvis.
DAIMLER: Mr. Purvis, can you hear me? Can he hear me?
CARELLA: I’m sorry, he comes and goes, I told you.
DAIMLER: Can you give him something? Wake him up?
CARELLA: I’m afraid he’s very critical at the moment. I couldn’t risk it. I think you should come back. I’ll call if there’s any change in his condition.
DAIMLER: Yes, I guess — wait, his eyes are open.Mr. Purvis, can you hear me? Nod if you can hear me. Mr. Purvis, my name is Detective Daimler, I’m an agent with the FBI. Detective George with the RCMP is also present. We’d like to ask you a few questions, if you’re up to it.
PURVIS: Hurts.
DAIMLER: Doc?
CARELLA: I’m sorry, Mr. Purvis, I cannot increase the dosage. This is a bad idea, Detective, he’s in no condition —
DAIMLER: No, we need to do this now. Mr. Purvis, can you answer a few questions?
PURVIS: Yes.
DAIMLER: Good. We’ll go slow, okay? Can you tell me anything about what happened to you?
PURVIS: Where am I?
DAIMLER: You’re in Winnipeg, sir, St. Boniface
General Hospital.
PURVIS: What happened?
DAIMLER: Has no one told him anything?
CARELLA: No, I thought it best you tell him.I’ve had my hands full with the press.
DAIMLER: Right, keep them out of here, all right? We’re going to put an officer outside to keep people out. Can you do that, Mel?
GEORGE: No problem.
DAIMLER: Mr. Purvis, you’ve been in a coma for two weeks, do you remember anything?
PURVIS: Weeks?
DAIMLER: Yes, two weeks. After your program, your show in Winnipeg, do you remember what happened?
PURVIS: Yes.
DAIMLER: Afterward, your bodyguard, Mr., uh,
Daly, he said he took you straight to your hotel room. Is this correct?
PURVIS: Yes.
DAIMLER: You were last seen going into your room at
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