The Dark House by John Sedgwick Page B

the headrest, then held it for a moment in his lap, unsure how to proceed.
    â€œOpen it, dummy.”
    Rollins reached into the bag and extracted a small, bright-blue cardboard box. He popped the masking tape with his index finger, and, from the tissue paper inside, he fished out a pair of binoculars. NIKON MONARCH , it said on the label that dangled from one eyepiece. They were small and demure, a sleeker version of old-fashioned opera glasses. He felt a thrill, a kind of brightening within him, to realize that Marj had given him a gift. And such a personal one, too. But then he worried that the two of them might be achieving too great an intimacy. His pursuits were meant to be solo.
    â€œPretty light,” Rollins said, placing them in the palm of his hand. “Nice workmanship.”
    â€œGo ahead, try them.”
    As Rollins put the glasses to his eyes to look around, the world swelled with possibility. The distant houses suddenly seemed enormous. They almost pressed in on him. “Amazing.”
    â€œAren’t they great? They were on sale at the drugstore. I had to go in for Tampax, and I thought of you. When I saw the binoculars, I mean.” She colored a little, which surprised him.
    He almost kissed her. But he waited too long, and the moment passed. “Thanks,” he said instead.
    â€œSo you don’t already have a pair?”
    â€œNo. Never even thought of it.”
    â€œWell, I wasn’t sure.”
    Â 
    It was past nine when they swung open the low gate to the kiddie park on a slight rise up from the river and across from the Sloanes’. Marj climbed onto a spring-mounted, polka-dotted horse and started careening wildly about, her hair flouncing with each bounce. But Rollins took up position beside a thick maple. A bright moon was out, and he figured the tree would offer good cover. He had some trouble focusing the lenses, since his right eye was weaker than his left. He called out: “I can’t get these to work.”
    Marj dismounted, took the glasses from him, adjusted the outer ring of the right eyepiece, then handed them back. “Better?”
    â€œMuch.” Rollins quickly lost himself in the view. The binoculars were marvelous. They seemed to put him right inside the house, even though it was indeed nearly a hundred yards away. There were no shades on this side, where no neighbors encroached. Rollins roamed around the dated, yellow countertops and hulking maroon refrigerator of the Sloanes’ kitchen. A slightly overweight brunette was laboring at the sink. He almost flinched when his eyes settled on Sloane. He was leaning back comfortably in an oak chair. At that magnification, Sloane nearly filled the lenses, and Rollins was suddenly afraid Sloane might reach out and grab him by the throat.
    â€œGot anything?” Marj asked.
    â€œNot too much. Sloane’s sitting in the kitchen while his wife does the dishes.”
    â€œTypical.”
    â€œWant to look?”
    Marj took the glasses and adjusted them slightly. “Jeez, the guy doesn’t even lift a finger.” She watched silently for a few minutes. “Look out, we’ve got movement.”
    â€œOh?” Rollins looked over to the house, but couldn’t make out anything from that distance.
    â€œJerry’s headed to the TV. Oh, that’s nice. He pours himself some hooch first. Wifey’s stuck with the dishes, while hubby gets sloshed in front of the tube. I bet it’s the porn channel.” She fell silent, watching. “Wait a sec, he’s leaving, the jerk. No, wait, there must have been someone at the door. He’s coming back, with another guy. Some schmo. Take a look. Maybe you know him.” She passed the binoculars back to Rollins. By the time Rollins managed to get the focus right, Sloane was sitting, drink in hand, on the couch in front of the TV. From this angle, Rollins couldn’t tell if the set was on. Diagonally across from him was a