Visitors
Visitors (第3/3页)
nowingthatapierwasonfireoverbytheriverandsuspectingitwasthat.HehadturnedontheTVtogettheall-newschannelandwhiledialinghadencounteredtheopeningcreditsofaRichardWidmarkcopfilmcalled"BrocksLastCase"whichhehadthensatdownandwatched,hisfaithfulScotchathisside,untilfiveoclockinthemorning.RichardWidmarkwasoneofhisfavoriteactorsinthewholeworld,hetoldher,becauseofthewayinwhichRichardWidmarkwasabletoconvey,whatwastheword,resilience.YoucouldknockRichardWidmarkdown,hesaid,youcouldevenknockRichardWidmarkdownrepeatedly,butyouhadbetterbearinmindwhileknockingRichardWidmarkdownthatRichardWidmarkwasprettydamnsuregoingtobouncebackupandbatteryourconk——
"RedfordistheoneIlike,"shesays.
Bishopcanunderstandthis.Henodsseriously.
"ThethingIlikeaboutRedfordis,"shesays,andfortenminutesshetellshimaboutRobertRedford.
Hetastesthecassouletwithalongspoon.Moresalt.
ItappearsthatsheisalsomightyfondofClintEastwood.
Bishophasthesensethattheconversationhasstrayed,likeabadcow,fromtheproperpath.
"OldClintEastwood,"hesays,shakinghisheadadmiringly."Wereready."
Hedishesupthecassouletandfetcheshotbreadfromtheoven.
"Tasteslikerealcassoulet,"shesays.
"Thatstheox-tailsoupmix."Whyisheservinghercassouletinsummer?Itshot.
HesopenedabottleofRobertMondavitablered.
"Verygood,"shesays."ImeanImsurprised.Really."
"Maybecouldhavehadmoretomato."
"No,really."ShetearsoffafistfulofFrenchbread."Menarequiteodd.IsawthisguyatthefarmersmarketonUnionSquareonSaturday?Hewasstandinginfrontofatablefullofgreensandradishesandcornandthisandthat,behindabunchofotherpeople,andhewasstaringatthisfarmer-girlwhowaswearingcut-offsandatanktopandeverytimesheleanedovertograbacabbageorwhatnothewasgettingashotofherbreasts,whichwere,tobefair,quitepretty——Imeanhowmuchfuncanthatbe?"
"Moderateamountoffun.Somefun.Notmuchfun.WhatcanIsay?"
"AndthatplugIlivewith."
"Whatabouthim?"
"Hegavemeabookonce."
"Whatwasit?"
"Bookabouthowtofixhomeappliances.Thedishwasherwasbroken.Thenheboughtmeascrewdriver.Thisreallynicescrewdriver."
"Well."
"Ifixedthedamneddishwasher.Tookmetwodays."
"Wouldyouliketogotobednow?"
"No,"Christiesays,"notyet."
Notyet!Veryhappily,Bishoppoursmorewine.
Nowhessweating,littlechillsatintervals.Hegetsasheetfromthebedroomandsitsinthekitchenwiththesheetdrapedaroundhim,guru-style.HecanhearKatieturningrestlesslyonthecouch.
Headmiresthewaysheorganizesherlife——thatis,thewayshegetsdonewhatshewantsdone.Alittlewangling,alittlenagging,alittlelets-go-take-a-lookandBishophassprungforanewpairofboots,handsomeankle-heightblackdiablonumbersthatshellwearwithblackskipants
Well,hedoesntgivehermanypresents.
CouldhebearaScotch?Hethinksnot.
HeremembersadreaminwhichhedreamedthathisnosewasasdarkandredasaBingcherry.Aswouldbeappropriate.
"Daddy?"
Stillwearingtheyellowsheet,hegetsupandgoesintotheotherroom.
"Icantsleep."
"Imsorry."
"Talktome."
Bishopsitsagainontheedgeofthecouch.Howlargesheis!
HegivesherhisArtHistorylecture.
"ThenyougetMoandMa,thatsalittletricky,Mowastheonedidallthewaterliliesand**,hiscolorswerebluesandgreens,MawastheonedidBareassOntheGrassand**,hiscolorswerebrownsandgreens.ThenyougetBonnard,hedidalltheinteriorsand**,amazinglight,andthenyougetVanGuk,hestheonewiththeearand**,andSay-zanne,hestheonewiththeapplesand**,yougetKandinsky,abadmother,allthempick-up-stickspictures,yougetmymanMondrian,hestheonewiththerectanglesand**,hiscolorswereredyellowandblue,yougetMoholy-Nagy,hedidalltheplasticthingummiesand**,yougetMar-celDu-champ,hesthedevilinhumanform"
Shesasleep.
Bishopgoesbackintothekitchenandmakeshimselfadrink.
Itsfive-thirty.Faintlightinthebigwindows.
ChristiesinSeattle,andplanstostay.
Lookingoutofthewindowsintheearlymorninghecansometimesseethetwooldladieswholiveintheapartmentwhosegardenbacksuptohisbuildinghavingbreakfastbycandlelight.Hecanneverfigureoutwhethertheyareterminallyromanticorwhether,rather,theyretryingtosaveelectricity.
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