now, would be an unexpected move.
The van idled noisily in the falling rain. Holden closed his eyes and gripped the steering wheel with unanticipated force. Knowing that Marion was watching him, reserved in fear, he pushed his head back into the cracked pleather seat, took a deep breath and spoke his words plainly and evenly, hoping that the manufactured courage in his voice would seem genuine.
“That may not have been them at the door,” he began. “You may not be in as much immediate danger as I thought. But, for the sake of argument, we need to assume the worst. The bar is gone…and you can’t go back to your apartment again. If there’s something important to you there, tell me what it is and I’ll go back and get it. But you need to tell me in the next fifteen seconds. Because if there is nothing important enough for me to risk my life, we need to...”
“My diary.” Marion said without hesitation. “I’ve had it forever. My mother gave it to me and…it has my whole childhood. If there’s one thing I can’t live without, it’s that. Please.”
Holden sniffed. He nodded.
He loosened the tension in his eyelids and turned up the defrost to clear the fog that was either covering his vision or the windshield.
He glanced over at Marion and said, “You’ll need to stay in the van.”
She agreed.
He put the van in gear and headed in the direction of her apartment.
* * * * *
010-23472
He had been to her apartment before. It was on a night when he and Shane had been at a popular north side restaurant celebrating the birthday of a mutual friend. They were lost in an immense dining room, mingling through a large group of Library regulars, when Marion pulled Holden aside and asked if he could drive her home. She had forgotten her present. They wouldn’t be missed, and knowing that she lived on Belmont, he was sure to find a much needed pack of cigarettes. Of course, that was before he had quit smoking for his daughter’s sake. Now, with all the stress that The Book had brought on, he thanked God that monkey was no longer digging its nails in his back. But because Shane had nabbed his last smoke that night, he had agreed to drive her and they snuck out with another party.
The thing Holden remembered most about her apartment was that it hadn’t looked at all like he’d expected. When she opened the door and let him in he noticed that the interior was subtle and calm, orderly and clean. For the first time, he saw her differently. If he had walked in to find three cats lounging about, incense burning on the television from the mouth of some angry, clay figurine and sheer orange fabric hanging between open doorways, he wouldn’t have thought twice. But the sight of such a fresh apartment gave Marion a new, unexpected dimension that made him notice her. So when she offered him a drink, his guard was down and he accepted (he was used to ordering drinks from her anyway). When she turned on the light to the kitchen, his mind awoke and he retracted.
A drink? No problem. If it was just a free drink, that would have been great. But, what Marion was offering had been: A drink…and.
It wasn’t that he didn’t find her attractive. It was that fear had overtaken him. Fear of what , he didn’t know. Fear of relationships? Maybe. Commitment? Hell, he screwed that up with Eve. Fear of women? Hello Freud. Fear of love? Yeah, maybe. What he realized, as they drew close to one another in her entryway without much space for Marion to put her jacket on while reaching for an umbrella (It was raining again. Why was it always raining?), was that it had been her lips. For some reason, he had a fear of her lips, as if kissing her would draw him deeply into some form of unrestrained existence. It was a mysterious feeling and there was no reason for it. Marion had never given off the impression that she could sustain such power over Holden. But the thought frightened him all the same because he knew he
The van idled noisily in the falling rain. Holden closed his eyes and gripped the steering wheel with unanticipated force. Knowing that Marion was watching him, reserved in fear, he pushed his head back into the cracked pleather seat, took a deep breath and spoke his words plainly and evenly, hoping that the manufactured courage in his voice would seem genuine.
“That may not have been them at the door,” he began. “You may not be in as much immediate danger as I thought. But, for the sake of argument, we need to assume the worst. The bar is gone…and you can’t go back to your apartment again. If there’s something important to you there, tell me what it is and I’ll go back and get it. But you need to tell me in the next fifteen seconds. Because if there is nothing important enough for me to risk my life, we need to...”
“My diary.” Marion said without hesitation. “I’ve had it forever. My mother gave it to me and…it has my whole childhood. If there’s one thing I can’t live without, it’s that. Please.”
Holden sniffed. He nodded.
He loosened the tension in his eyelids and turned up the defrost to clear the fog that was either covering his vision or the windshield.
He glanced over at Marion and said, “You’ll need to stay in the van.”
She agreed.
He put the van in gear and headed in the direction of her apartment.
* * * * *
010-23472
He had been to her apartment before. It was on a night when he and Shane had been at a popular north side restaurant celebrating the birthday of a mutual friend. They were lost in an immense dining room, mingling through a large group of Library regulars, when Marion pulled Holden aside and asked if he could drive her home. She had forgotten her present. They wouldn’t be missed, and knowing that she lived on Belmont, he was sure to find a much needed pack of cigarettes. Of course, that was before he had quit smoking for his daughter’s sake. Now, with all the stress that The Book had brought on, he thanked God that monkey was no longer digging its nails in his back. But because Shane had nabbed his last smoke that night, he had agreed to drive her and they snuck out with another party.
The thing Holden remembered most about her apartment was that it hadn’t looked at all like he’d expected. When she opened the door and let him in he noticed that the interior was subtle and calm, orderly and clean. For the first time, he saw her differently. If he had walked in to find three cats lounging about, incense burning on the television from the mouth of some angry, clay figurine and sheer orange fabric hanging between open doorways, he wouldn’t have thought twice. But the sight of such a fresh apartment gave Marion a new, unexpected dimension that made him notice her. So when she offered him a drink, his guard was down and he accepted (he was used to ordering drinks from her anyway). When she turned on the light to the kitchen, his mind awoke and he retracted.
A drink? No problem. If it was just a free drink, that would have been great. But, what Marion was offering had been: A drink…and.
It wasn’t that he didn’t find her attractive. It was that fear had overtaken him. Fear of what , he didn’t know. Fear of relationships? Maybe. Commitment? Hell, he screwed that up with Eve. Fear of women? Hello Freud. Fear of love? Yeah, maybe. What he realized, as they drew close to one another in her entryway without much space for Marion to put her jacket on while reaching for an umbrella (It was raining again. Why was it always raining?), was that it had been her lips. For some reason, he had a fear of her lips, as if kissing her would draw him deeply into some form of unrestrained existence. It was a mysterious feeling and there was no reason for it. Marion had never given off the impression that she could sustain such power over Holden. But the thought frightened him all the same because he knew he
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