His ear began to leak now, and he walked off the man's lawn, not sure
at all how he had done. The hot flush of exhilaration that had come
with the punch stayed with him awhile, and yet when he had gone halfway
back to his house the cold flew into his shirt and rode his back and he
began to shake with fear of the man all over again. Inside his house,
his wife was sponging the dinner table and said, "What happened to your
ear? It's hanging all off."
"I had a fight with that guy from a year and a half ago. The one who
said the thing to you. I can't understand it. I was all right for a
while, but now I'm afraid of him all over again."
"That's some ear you've got," she said.
"Ears never worried me," he said. "I don't understand why I still have
to be afraid of the bastard. Come on upstairs." They walked to the
steps and his wife said, "You go first I don't like to go upstairs in
front of people." And Stern went on ahead, annoyed at being denied
several seconds of behind glimpses.
Upstairs, in his son's room, he looked at the six or seven children's
books on the floor. Pages were torn out of them, and Stern wondered how
the child was ever to become brilliant on so ratty-looking a library.
Once, in some kind of sheltering, warmth-giving act he really couldn't
explain, Stern had bought children's rugs and hung them all over the
walls. The boy had said, "Rugs on the wall?" And Stern had answered,
"Of course, and we put pictures on the floors, too. We eat breakfast at
night and get up in the morning for a bite of supper. This is a crazy
house."
Now Stern walked around the room, touching the rugs to make sure they
wouldn't fall on his son's face. Then he said, "I feel like doing some
hugging," and knelt beside the sleeping boy, inhaling his pajamas and
putting his arm over him. His wife was at the door and Stern said, "I
want you in here, too." She came over, and it occurred to him that
he would like to try something a little theatrical, just kneel there
quietly with his arms protectively draped around his wife and child. He
tried it and wound up holding them a fraction longer than he'd intended.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account