The answer to why was simple but of course Bill didn’t know it. Bill would discover it years later, but not until he’d lost his marriage and a good chunk of his life.
So he didn’t have to feel.
Because some things were just too painful.
“You know,” Mary said, “they have rehabs.”
“When I have a problem, I’ll let you know.”
“You have a problem. And I don’t want to lose you.”
“Not up to you,” Bill said.
He kissed Mary again but suddenly she didn’t want to be kissed. She didn’t want to be in the storeroom with him because she knew he was going to do something to stop her from talking about what she knew he needed to talk about. She wanted to talk about it even though she knew now wasn’t the time for it.
“C’mon,” she said. “Henry Lee’s waiting for you. Can you cut meat or you gonna cut a finger off?”
“I’m going smoke a joint, pop some speed, drink some bourbon. Then I’ll cut meat.”
He took her in his arms as they stood. Mary, despite the ice she wanted to feel, melted. He felt her melt, knew she was caving and that he could do anything he wanted there in the storeroom.
“We need to get back to work,” Mary said.
“The mouse was dead. I was with Annabelle and the three guys were together in Jack’s room. They were gay and doing what they were doing. Rell’s brain was totally fried. Him and Richard. Richard’s mind was fried too. Richard told fiction stories he was writing from his head. He never wrote them down that I know of.”
“I have no idea what the hell you’re talking about.”
“Talking about the mushroom cloud. I’m gonna make it burst for you.”
“Boy…”
“Boy nothing. Ain’t nothing gonna burn upstairs, is there?”
“I need to go up and check.”
“Let it burn.”
“Boy…”
“I was never with Annabelle. We were together at times, but we were never boyfriend and girlfriend. We were both friends with Jack and Jack was with Rell except we didn’t know he was with Rell until one time, maybe two years after we’d met him, he finally came out of the closet.”
“Why you telling me this?”
Bill kissed Mary, softly, sweetly, then harder and more forcefully. As he did so, he pushed her back onto the cases on which she’d been sitting.
“They were all there. In the egg wash. The dead mouse and the two cats. One was smoking a j. The mouse was telling me the cats killed it, him, asking me how I could let that happen. Then the dots came and the Armageddon.”
“You done lost your mind?” Mary looked at Bill critically.
“Not me. I’m right here with you.” He got on his knees then pointed two fingers to his eyes then pointed them to Mary’s eyes. “We’re right here,” he said. “you and me, Mary P.”
Mary leaned back and let him spread her legs. She closed her eyes and sighed a deep, deep sigh.
He spent an inordinate amount of time on her, carefully, meticulously, painstakingly ministering to her every whim. She could not contain herself, could not hold back as much as she wanted to. At one point someone passed by in the hall and she wanted to stop but wouldn’t let herself, couldn’t force herself.
“Lord have Mercy,” she said when it was all over.
He needed to help her to her feet, to hold her while she pulled on her underwear and got her balance. Then he kissed her a last time, popped a black beauty and unlocked the storeroom door.
By Peter Weiss
and
Coming in a few weeks
