bothered to turn in her direction. She wandered among the cars, then went back to the bus stop and slumped down on the bench.
“I’m bored,” she said.
Claire didn’t answer.
“Aren’t you bored?”
“Not especially,” Claire said. “The bus will be here before long.”
“Sure, in about two weeks.” April stuck her legs out and knocked the sides of her shoes together. “Let’s take a walk,” she said.
“I’m all walked out. But you go ahead. Just don’t get too far away.”
“Not
alone
, Claire. I didn’t mean alone. Come on, this is boring.” April hated the sound of her voice and she could see that Claire didn’t like it either. Claire closed her book. She sat without moving, then said, “I guess I don’t have any choice.”
April rocked to her feet. She moved a little way off and waited as Claire put the book in her purse, stood, ran her hands down the front of her skirt, and came slowly toward her.
“We’ll just stretch our legs,” April said. She led Claire up the street to the car lot, where she left the sidewalk and began circling a red Celica convertible.
“I thought you wanted to walk,” Claire said.
“Right, just a minute,” April said. Then the side door of the showroom swung open and the man in the suit came out. At first he seemed not to know they were there. Heknelt beside a sedan and wrote something down on a clipboard. He got up and peered at the sticker on the windshield and wrote something else down. Only then did he permit himself to take notice of them. He looked directly at Claire, and after he’d had a good long look he told her to let him know if she needed anything. His voice had a studied, almost insolent neutrality.
“We’re just waiting for a bus,” Claire said.
“How does this car stack up against the RX-7?” April asked.
“You surely jest.” He made his way toward them through the cars. “I could sell against Mazda any day of the week, if I were selling.”
April said, “You’re not a salesman?”
He stopped in front of the Celica. “We don’t have salesmen here, sugar. We just collect money and try to keep the crowds friendly.”
“You’ve got half of this crowd eating out of your hand,” Claire said.
“That’s a year old,” he said. “Loaded to the gills. Came in last night on a repossession. It’ll be gone this time tomorrow. Look at the odometer, sweet pea. What does the odometer say?”
April opened the door and leaned inside. “Four thousand and two,” she said. She sat in the driver’s seat and worked the gearshift.
“Exactly. Four K. Still on its first tank of gas.”
“Little old lady owned it, right?” Claire said.
He gave her another long look before answering. “Little old Marine. Went to the land of the great sand dune and didn’t keep up his payments. I’ve got the keys right here.”
“We can’t. Sorry, maybe another day.”
“I know, you’re waiting for a bus. So kill some time.”
April got out of the car but left the door open. “Claire, you have to try this seat,” she said.
“We should go,” Claire said.
“Claire, you just have to. Come on,” April said. “Come on, Claire.”
The man walked over to the open door and held out his hand.
“Madame,”
he said. When Claire stayed where she was, he made a flourish and said,
“Madame! Entrez!”
Claire walked up to the car. “We really should go,” she said. She sat sideways on the seat and swung her legs inside, all in one motion. She nodded at the man and he closed the door. “Yes,” he said, “exactly as I thought. The designer was a friend of yours, a very special friend. This automobile was obviously built with you in mind.”
“You look great,” April said. It was true, and she could see that Claire was in complete possession of that truth. The knowledge was in the set of her mouth, the way her hands came to rest on the wheel.
“There’s something missing,” the man said. He studied her. “Sunglasses,” he said.
“I’m bored,” she said.
Claire didn’t answer.
“Aren’t you bored?”
“Not especially,” Claire said. “The bus will be here before long.”
“Sure, in about two weeks.” April stuck her legs out and knocked the sides of her shoes together. “Let’s take a walk,” she said.
“I’m all walked out. But you go ahead. Just don’t get too far away.”
“Not
alone
, Claire. I didn’t mean alone. Come on, this is boring.” April hated the sound of her voice and she could see that Claire didn’t like it either. Claire closed her book. She sat without moving, then said, “I guess I don’t have any choice.”
April rocked to her feet. She moved a little way off and waited as Claire put the book in her purse, stood, ran her hands down the front of her skirt, and came slowly toward her.
“We’ll just stretch our legs,” April said. She led Claire up the street to the car lot, where she left the sidewalk and began circling a red Celica convertible.
“I thought you wanted to walk,” Claire said.
“Right, just a minute,” April said. Then the side door of the showroom swung open and the man in the suit came out. At first he seemed not to know they were there. Heknelt beside a sedan and wrote something down on a clipboard. He got up and peered at the sticker on the windshield and wrote something else down. Only then did he permit himself to take notice of them. He looked directly at Claire, and after he’d had a good long look he told her to let him know if she needed anything. His voice had a studied, almost insolent neutrality.
“We’re just waiting for a bus,” Claire said.
“How does this car stack up against the RX-7?” April asked.
“You surely jest.” He made his way toward them through the cars. “I could sell against Mazda any day of the week, if I were selling.”
April said, “You’re not a salesman?”
He stopped in front of the Celica. “We don’t have salesmen here, sugar. We just collect money and try to keep the crowds friendly.”
“You’ve got half of this crowd eating out of your hand,” Claire said.
“That’s a year old,” he said. “Loaded to the gills. Came in last night on a repossession. It’ll be gone this time tomorrow. Look at the odometer, sweet pea. What does the odometer say?”
April opened the door and leaned inside. “Four thousand and two,” she said. She sat in the driver’s seat and worked the gearshift.
“Exactly. Four K. Still on its first tank of gas.”
“Little old lady owned it, right?” Claire said.
He gave her another long look before answering. “Little old Marine. Went to the land of the great sand dune and didn’t keep up his payments. I’ve got the keys right here.”
“We can’t. Sorry, maybe another day.”
“I know, you’re waiting for a bus. So kill some time.”
April got out of the car but left the door open. “Claire, you have to try this seat,” she said.
“We should go,” Claire said.
“Claire, you just have to. Come on,” April said. “Come on, Claire.”
The man walked over to the open door and held out his hand.
“Madame,”
he said. When Claire stayed where she was, he made a flourish and said,
“Madame! Entrez!”
Claire walked up to the car. “We really should go,” she said. She sat sideways on the seat and swung her legs inside, all in one motion. She nodded at the man and he closed the door. “Yes,” he said, “exactly as I thought. The designer was a friend of yours, a very special friend. This automobile was obviously built with you in mind.”
“You look great,” April said. It was true, and she could see that Claire was in complete possession of that truth. The knowledge was in the set of her mouth, the way her hands came to rest on the wheel.
“There’s something missing,” the man said. He studied her. “Sunglasses,” he said.
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