Short fiction. The fictional territory of ANOTHER LIFE, this disquieting first collection of stories, is a state of emergency, and for Weihe the emergency is always the same: it is the terrifying possibility that one will be caught, in any instant -- as a nocturnal jogger might be caught in the blinding headlights of an oncoming car -- without a fully realized life, a life of passion and love, above all. Edwin Weihe directs the Creative Writing Program at Seattle University.
Another Life & Other Stories
By Edwin Weihe
A Pleasure Boat Studio Book
Copyright © 2000 Edwin Weihe. All rights reserved.
ISBN: 1-929355-01-7
Contents
Girl in the Coat....................................................11All Clear...........................................................33Love Spots..........................................................45The Morning Room....................................................65Her Birthday Suit...................................................79Green Lake..........................................................89Off Season..........................................................99Another Life.......................................................121
Chapter One
Girl in the Coat
Parker's best defense was to getout of Larry and Sylvia's house as early and painlessly as possible?hehad an important seven a.m. flight to Chicago, infact?but as soon as his wife Mary rose to help Sylvia clear thedinner plates, Larry started right up, his face engorged withblood. He had been drinking like a sailor since five, and nowhe was going to spout off whatever the hell he wanted. Thatmeant going after Parker, testing his patience. Parker bracedhimself, actually gripping the edges of his chair. He understoodthis was hostile territory: their little madhouse, Larry'sempty Merlot bottles marching up the table. The three kidswere upstairs with Jennifer, the sitter.
The twin boys, aged six, were both terrors, and Parker'sattention wandered ceilingward to their screeching and theslamming bathroom door and finally little Emily awake andcrying and poor Jennifer doing whatever she could, againstimpossible odds, to get her back to sleep. Parker suspectedthere had always been this storm of noise and terror upstairs,even before the children. The twins had arrived late in themarriage, like burglars through a broken window, and by thetime the fact had fully registered, it was really too late to doanything but hand over whatever they wanted. Five years later,when it was obvious both Larry and Sylvia were at the ends oftheir very separate ropes, they sleepwalked back onto the crimescene, and?surprise, surprise?Baby Emily appeared, and, asLarry described it, mere anarchy was loosed upon their house.
And so Larry, too, looked up at the water-stained plaster.
"I'm sinking here, brother. Throw me a line."
"What's a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?"Parker said.
Larry considered the question. "Except I'm not so nice,"he said finally. "Someday I'm going to toss them all overboard."
"Look. The kids are wonderful."
"Back at you. Only yours are praggaly out of the house."
"I'm sure they'll be praggaly out for another ten years."
"You know so damned much."
"I don't know anything," Parker said, glancing out thewindow.
"You know how to fucking defend yourself."
"Looks like it's raining again."
Larry held his palms up. "I think you're right," he said.
He picked up an empty Merlot bottle, then put it downagain. Upstairs, one of the twins had wedged his foot in thebathroom door and Parker could hear the cracking noise ofthe door bending against the weight of a shoulder, Sylvia wentinto the hall and shouted to Jennifer to please change the babyand bring her down.
"I'll tell you, I wish to hell I was going with you," Larrysaid.
"Why not? We used to have a helluva time."
"Yeah, I was up for it then."
Sylvia and Mary came back into the dining room withdecaf coffee and little plates of something chocolate, a denselittle cake that would keep Parker up all night if he was foolishenough to eat it. They sat down.
"Look, why don't you go?" Sylvia said. "If I need helparound here, I can always call in the National Guard."
"Careful now," Mary said, ducking a little. When she didthat, Parker noticed her blouse opened. "Jennifer's boyfriend?isn'the in the Guard?"
"That one's adrift, right up here, let me tell you," Sylviasaid, tapping her forehead. "She's in his place now, she movedin, like a trailer or some sort of hideout up on cinder blocksover in Rosewood or somewhere, and he won't let her drive.He doesn't want her going anywhere he can't see."
"I think she's only eighteen," Mary said. "She was at theuniversity last year. She's really very sweet. She was in Parker'sfreshman class, wasn't she, honey? I don't think she did verywell."
Parker did not remember. "There's so many," he said.
"No point in going to this conference if you're not armedto the teeth with a paper," Larry announced, pounding thetable. "Isn't that right, Parker? And Parker has a paper. Telleverybody what your paper is on."
"It's not important," Parker said.
"Of course it's not important. But po-lice tell us what it'sabout. Unless it's a dark secret. Is it a dark, furry little secret?"
"Yes, why not tell us, honey?" Mary said. "I'm always soproud of Parker's work."
"It's on Conrad," Parker said, folding his arms. "`Conradand the Sanity of Style."
"The thing is," Sylvia said, "this madman-Taylor's hisname?is violent, I know this for a fact. One night he camehere to pick her up. Remember, Larry?"
"Shit," Larry said, and lifted a forkful of cake. It fell justas it neared his lips. "Shit and more shit."
"Well, thank you for keeping up your end of the conversation,"Sylvia said. "Anyway, they argued right out there inthe car for like an hour, and then I saw the car actually rocking?youknow, rocking??and I saw her climb over into theback seat."
Larry stabbed the fallen cake until he finally got hold ofa small piece of it. He pointed it at Sylvia, and then, in turn, atMary and Parker.
"Maybe they were humping," Larry said.
"I know she tried to have another boyfriend once. She'snineteen, by the way. And no angel, I'm sure of that. Anyway,Taylor found out and this poor guy like suddenly disappeared.Can you imagine? The guy just fell off the map."
"She's very good with the children," Mary said.
"She isn't, really. They're going to kill her if the boyfrienddoesn't."
They were quiet for a moment, listening, and then theylooked at each other. Larry drew a deep breath.
Mary sighed. "It's another world out there, it really is,"she said.
"You busy yourself half the year getting up the goddamnedlittle paper, then drag it to Chicago or wherever, and what for? Sothat some dyke post-colonialist, for chrissakes, will cut it downand terrorize you in front of thirty-five of your colleagues? No sir.Let's be perfectly frank, all right? All you're hoping for is just maybeyour proud little wife, assuming she hasn't bothered to actuallyread the bloody thing, might come up with a blow job."
"Now you're really going overboard, Larry," Sylvia said,turning away.
"Man in the boat. Man in the goddamned boat. You see?I just rub Sylvia the wrong way. Isn't that right?"
As Sylvia gave him the look, Mary whirled around, a littletoo abruptly, to greet first Jennifer and then Emily, who hungbow-legged like a little monkey from Jennifer's short, pink skirt.Larry stared at the both of them as though he had never seenthem before in his life. Then he turned to Mary.
"Now this one, your husband, his hands are clean. Notonce in my mammary has he had to really defend himselfagainst anything."
"But Larry, didn't I just overhear you say to Parker ...,"Mary said.
"Mary. Immaculate Mary. Listen. Your husband here. He'sa goddamned rock. What's that island?"
"What is he talking about?"
Larry's eyes rolled around the dining room.
"I have to say, I really ... love your house."
"This is your house, Larry," Mary said.
"It's a solid, steady house. Real sweet view of the waterall around and around."
"We've done everything we can to make it a pleasanthome," Mary said. "Where you and Sylvia are always welcome."
"No, listen. Don't let anybody in. Got it?"
"Sure," Parker said. "Just calm down."
Sylvia swiveled around to face Jennifer. Jennifer had letgo of Emily, who was about to fall on her face in the livingroom.
"I do hope you've put wax in your ears," she said. "Likewhat's-his-name. Odysseus."
"But he didn't," Parker said, lifting himself with someeffort from his chair. "He listened."
"The goddamned rock of Gibraltar," Larry said. "Hey, Ilove you, man."
"I love you, too," Parker said, and then it occurred tohim how wrong Larry was, that, in any case, it was only hislife that was a rock.
Mary smiled warmly at Jennifer and then watched Parkerturn his back on the dinner table and wander off into the livingroom. He set Emily back on her feet, watched her staggera step or two, and then, taking her firmly under her arms,lifted her up to his face like he might a newspaper.
"She loves you, man," Larry said, but he had alreadyturned away.
Parker tossed Emily into the air. It was a little toss andthe child went up and returned happily as Sylvia and Maryand Jennifer stood watching. He tossed her up again, higher,so that at the top both arms flapped like plump little wings.She was not so happy as before, and searched now aroundParker's shoulder. Jennifer stepped up behind Parker, and shewas smiling gleefully when Emily flew up again?now inchesfrom the ceiling, her round, bird-eyed face frozen in terror?andshe, Jennifer, wished she were up there too, her legs dangling,safe beyond the reach of gravity.
"What are you trying to prove?" Sylvia exclaimed.
"Honey?" Mary said.
Little Emily, screaming bloody murder, was caught, andthen quickly Sylvia took her, turned her head away from Parker,and rocked her.
"You could have missed her," she said, a hiss escapingher lips.
She carried Emily back into the dining room and stoodfor a moment over Larry. Emily went silent, as if she werequietly suffocating, then suddenly she was screaming to wakethe dead. Larry's gaze was fixed on something outside the window.
"No," Jennifer said. "He couldn't."
"Honey, you have your flight to get up for," Mary said."Remember?"
"I'm afraid Jennifer's going to need a designated driver,Sylvia said."
It was Mary's idea that they swingby their house on the way out to Rosewood. She had a blackwool coat she'd worn just twice in three years that she knewwould be exactly right for Jennifer and she desperately wantedher to have it.
"It's perfect for traveling," she said.
When they arrived, Mary hurried inside with Jennifer intow while Parker waited in the car with the windshield wipersticktocking. He could guess what Mary was up to, her casuallittle chat about how much more appreciated college is whenyou've been out awhile and the importance of having cleardirection in your life. Clearly he was taking the early flight toChicago, but for some reason now, the wine perhaps, hecouldn't actually picture himself going, or the conference roomwhere he would deliver his paper, or what idea or issue ornew ground his paper addressed. Everything, in fact, was justa blank when Jennifer emerged from the house in the blackcoat. Mary was right behind her. Jennifer ran around the carand got in next to Parker.
"Doesn't she look absolutely new in it?" Mary said, restingher arms on Parker's open window.
"Oh my God, thank you so, so much," Jennifer said.
"I'll do my bath thing. Okay, honey? Don't worry. I'll waitup."
"I'm all right," Parker said. "Better get out of this rain."
"Really. Just count on it."
She kissed Parker through the window.
"`Night, Jenny," she said.
"I love your house," Jennifer called after her.
Parker backed slowly out of the driveway and then heand Jennifer headed across town toward Rosewood.
It was a dark evening, without traffic. For a while, theblur of green lights stretched out before them like a carpet.Jennifer was quiet. She held tight to the lapels of her new coatas if she were bracing herself against a great wind. He couldsee that her eyes had teared up. Parker smiled to think whatthe coat must mean to her. He had no memory of it himself, ofMary wearing it or even purchasing it, and so it unsettled hima little, not unpleasantly, that this mystery, dark and woolly,had entered the house without his knowledge, and, in fact,became known to him only now as it departed.
"It smells so new," Jennifer said. "This coat."
She put her face down into it, brushed her eyes with it.
"I guess it is new, practically," Parker said.
"I love your wife," she said. "She's so generous and good."
"I can tell she's very fond of you, too."
"So beautiful. We had such a great talk once, about allkinds of things. All I could do was stare at her, how beautifulshe is, what a beautiful face she has. I was still in school then.I liked your course. I really did. But I guess I did terrible onthe final."
"Look, I'm sorry about that."
"It's not your fault. Things were getting pretty mixed upin my life. Taylor was in it. He's been my boyfriend. It was thewrong decision. I couldn't think right. I don't blame anyonebut myself. I really don't."
"A nice girl like you ...," Parker began, but Jennifer wasshaking and sobbing now, so he stopped.
"Could you just pull over a minute? Please?"
"Sure."
There was no safe spot for another block, but right afterthe next red light, which was interminable, he turned into aclosed service station and pulled in under the roof behind theline-up of pumps.
Jennifer had stopped crying.
"You okay?" Parker said.
"I would never do anything to hurt her," she said, turningto him. "I really, really want you to believe that."
"Of course I believe it. Why shouldn't I?"
She moved toward him suddenly and kissed him. It wasa tear-wet kiss, near his mouth, and his hand had gone up indefense, so he touched the coat, too. It was softer than he hadimagined.
He was about to say something clever when she kissedhim again. Her whole body now moved up behind it. Hertongue flapped around in his mouth like a bird. Then after along while she sat back and hid her face in her new coat.
"I'm so, so sorry," she said.
"Don't be," Parker said. "I mean, it's all right."
"Is it?"
Parker looked away from her a moment, then started thecar, and pulled back into the street.
"I'm not going there, you know?where I'm living," shesaid.
"You're not going to Rosewood?"
"I'm going near Rosewood, to a friends. I've been takingmy stuff over to her place since last weekend. I have to leavesomething. You know, just a couple of things hanging around.Taylor'd know if I took it all."
"But isn't he expecting you back tonight?"
"Sure he is. But I'm moving on, is what I'm doing. Besure to tell your wife that, okay?"
"I'll tell her."
"I know she'll be happy about it."
"Where do we go now?"
"Just go straight out to the end of this. It's not far."
Parker found himself driving carefully now in the heavierrain, with both hands on the steering wheel. Again, he foundthe slow rhythm of the traffic lights and for nearly a mile movedmiraculously from green to green. Jennifer had turned her faceto the wet window, but now she sat up straight, carefully unbuttonedher black coat, and opened it wide away from herskirt. Then she lifted up, slid the skirt back to her hips, and,in a smooth, reverse motion, pulled her dark panties out overher knees. She wiggled them until they dropped.
"Now where?" Parker said. He turned up the windshieldwipers.
"Go left," she said. "Then I'll tell you when."
Her friend's place was a basement apartment in a one-story,shingled house. It squatted there in the pitch dark.
Jennifer turned to him, but he couldn't see her face clearly.
"Better turn out the headlights a minute."
"It doesn't look like your friend is home," he said.
"She'll be back. She's already gone every place she's going.Now, will you just do this one thing?"
"What is it?"
She reached out to him, turned him toward her, andpulled his hand down between her thighs. Parker still couldnot see her, but he could feel her now, and so he stared intentlyinto the dark where she was supposed to be. He couldhear her deep breathing.
"Just do it up and down slowly like this," she said. "Iknow it's only going to take a minute."
In a minute her breathing went shallow, and she movedquickly toward him and kissed him with such urgency andforce, the car rocked. He could feel her tears against his faceagain.
"Now I can't ever go back," she whispered.
She sat back and jerked her skirt down a little.
"Anyway," Parker said, "I mean, what the hell. Whyshould you?"
"Now just give me one more minute, will you? Please?I'll be right back."
She got out and, the coat pulled up onto her head, ranaround the side of the house. Once she was inside, a light lowagainst the driveway went on.
Parker knew he could leave if he wanted and his worstcrime would be letting someone else help her on her way to anew life. In any case, what exactly did she have in mind? Shewas moving on, but where? To what? He could not imagine itany more than he could remember her failure in class. Andyet, he wanted to save her somehow. He wanted her to havemore than a new coat. He would talk to her, if that's what shewanted. He would give her whatever she needed. He couldgive her his ticket to Chicago. That would take her far away.She would be out of reach of all the bad decisions she hadmade in her life. She was still young enough to begin again. Ifnecessary, he would take her wherever she was going. He wouldnot let her fall.
Parker was still smelling her on his fingers when Jenniferappeared like a large bird-shadow with two leaden wings draggingon the driveway. He got out and opened the back doorfor her.
"I have these two bags full," she said. "It's really all I need."
"And where are we going?"
"To the bus station. There's an eleven fifty-five I've got tobe on."
She pushed the two bags into the back seat, got in besideParker, and soon they were heading back downtown.
"Know something funny?" she said. "I've never been ona bus."
"Really?"
"I mean on a real Greyhound bus going someplace far.Have you?"
"No."
"I suppose a certain kind of person rides one."
"I don't know."
"I just hope there's no creepy types on it that might touchme if I'm sleeping."
"Most people are nice. Just imagine everyone sittingaround you will be like Mary."
"Now that's a pretty great thought. Thanks."
"You're welcome."
"Maybe I'll imagine you're there too."
At the bus station, Parker pulled up behind three taxis.He carried the two suitcases up to the entrance door, whereJennifer caught up with him and stopped him. She took thesuitcases from him.
When she turned to him, he saw she was sobbing again,the tears flowing wildly down her face. He had never knownanyone to cry up a storm like that, and for a moment his astonishmentgave way to envy.
"I'm sorry," she said.
"Why?"
"For what I did. I've never done anything right my wholelife. That's a fact."
"It's not," Parker said.
He reached out to touch her face. She gulped her tears,then laughed.
"Even those children hated me."
"It's all right. They're only little terrors," Parker said.
She smiled, and turning on this, without another word,lugged her two suitcases through the wide door and into thestation.
Back home, as he washed up inthe downstairs bathroom, Parker looked hard at himself inthe oval mirror. His face seemed unanchored from the rest ofhis body. Then he heard Mary say something from the bedroom.He dried his hands thoroughly and went up.
"Was Taylor waiting?" she said.
She was sitting cross-legged on the bed in a blue nightie.The way she was sitting, her white knees flared out and uplike a young girl's, the wedge of white panties, and perhapsthe nightie itself, which seemed new, reminded him of whenthey were first married.
"I guess he was," Parker said. "I don't know."
"Did you walk her to her door?"
"No."
"Maybe you should have," she said. "It's just that I worryabout her. She should be doing something different with herlife."
"I'm sure that's occurred to her," Parker said. "Tommyhome?"
"He's at Bernie's for the night. I don't know what theirplans are."
Her thoughts seemed to turn in that direction as Parkerundressed.
"Bernie's a good kid," he said.
"Carrie's home."
"Good."
"She's so quiet lately. I can hardly get a word out of her. Iask her something, something inconsequential, really, and sheacts like I've just invaded her privacy and turns away. Whatcould be going on with her?"
Parker went into the bathroom.
"Honey, are you showering again?"
"Look, she's sixteen," he said. "That's all."
"With so many secrets?"
"There's nothing to worry about. All right? Everybody'ssafe."
"Who said we weren't?"
Parker closed the door and stepped into the hot shower.The shower smelled of Mary's soap. It was a clean, familiar,lilac scent which, in bed, rose off her soft skin and hoveredover the two of them like ether until their books snapped shutand the lights went out. He was thinking this, standing trance-likeunder the flood of water, when suddenly he rememberedthat Jennifer's panties were still on the floor of the car. Theyhad dropped effortlessly?down her calves?out of view.
He turned off the shower, stepped out, and dried himselfquickly before the steamed-up mirror. Then he slowed.That the panties were indefensible went without saying. Jenniferhad marked the car with them. But in the morning, early,before sunrise, before suspicion, they would be gone, goneanywhere, out the window, and he would go on with the restof his life.
"If you really want to know," Mary said.
Parker had stepped into his pajamas and was strugglingto tie the strings.
"What's that?"
"Here. You're tired. Let me do that."
She scooted to the edge of the bed and gently wrestledthe strings from his fingers. Then she reached inside his pajamasand held him.
"Your two bags full," she said. "This is what they need, ifthey only knew."
"Who's that?"
"Poor Larry. Sylvia. Both of them."
"I think they've already tried it."
"I know I'm right."
Parker let the pajamas drop to the floor and climbed ontothe bed. Mary kissed him quickly, playfully pushed him overonto his back, then straddled him and kissed him again. Whenshe sat up the straps of her nightie were down around herwhite elbows.
"I like this," he said about the nightie.
She ran the fingers of both hands through her hair andthen reached over and switched off the bedside light.
"Honey, you always do, every time," she said. "But I justcan't help thinking."
Parker tugged a little at the sides of her panties.
"Let's get these off," Parker said.
"If Sylvia only knew," she said, lifting up her leg. Parkerfelt her push the panties down with her thumbs and thenstretch one side out along her thigh to her knee.
"Wait a minute," he said.
"If she could only just cast everything else aside. Everything.If only she could cast out all her little resentments, justcast them right out the window."
"Hold it."
"Darn these things," she said.
"This is not going to work."
"If she could only banish her foolish, foolish worries,and just look at him, in the light of day, look into his eyes andtruly know him for the first time."
Parker clenched his teeth and ripped the panties fromher leg.
"Honey, my God."
"I'm sorry."
"What's that noise?"
Parker sat up quickly. Mary swung over onto her pillow.
Someone was pounding on the kitchen door.
"Honey, maybe it's Tommy. Maybe it's the police."
Parker pulled on his pajamas and went to the head ofthe stairs. In a moment, Mary was in her robe beside him. Thepounding was harder now and they could hear a male voice.They went down.
The young man outside stood close to the kitchen door,his large blue eyes searching around inside. Parker and Marystared at him through the small panes of glass. He was tall andwiry, his wet blond hair slicked back and tied tight in a ponytail.He was not at all what Parker had imagined.
"What does he want?" Mary said. "What do you want?"
"He's looking for Jennifer," Parker said.
"Taylor?"
Hearing his name, Taylor rocked back from the door asif from a precipice. For just a second, Parker thought he lookedboyish, vulnerable. Then he rocked forward again and pressedhis face against the glass.
"They said you took her," he said. "Have you got her?"
"My husband drove her home," Mary said.
"No, ma'am. He didn't do that."
"Honey, you said you drove her home."
"I took her where she wanted to go."
"But where was that?" Mary asked.
"Oh man, oh man, I'm going to kill somebody if I don'tfind her quick."
"No you're not, Taylor," Mary said firmly, as though to achild.
"Listen," Parker said. "You better move on."
"Move on to what?" Taylor said, his voice cracking. Heshook the door violently. "That's what you say. With this herehouse. With this wife."
And with that, he drove his fist through the glass. Maryjumped. "Stop it!" she said. "Just stop it!" But when Taylor'sbloody hand reached around inside for the doorknob, Parkersuddenly took hold of it, as though he wanted to shake it, andpulled back with all his weight.
Taylor's face, red and astonished, broke through the windowpanes, splintering the frame and sending glass out acrossthe kitchen floor.
"Oh my God, let go of him," Mary said. "You've hurthim."
"You come in if you have to," Parker said. And he yankedhard again so that Taylor's whole body jackknifed over thewindow sill.
When Parker finally let go, Taylor groaned, straightened,and fell back outside onto the ground. His face was starting tobleed. Parker and Mary looked down at him through the shattereddoor.
"You were only defending yourself," she said. "Defendingus."
Taylor crawled off a few feet, managed to stand up, andbacking away, disappeared around the side of the house.
Mary stared after him. "Sylvia tried to warn us," she said.
Parker was already on his way upstairs. Carrie stood inher bedroom doorway and, still half-asleep, held her hand upas if to wave.
"Dad?"
"It's all right," he said. "Go back to sleep."
He dressed quickly and went back down.
"Parker, there's blood on your hand. Where are you going?"
"Call the police if you want."
"But honey, what's there to be afraid of?"
Parker headed for the bus station.It was already midnight, and so he hoped Jennifer's bus hadalready come and gone and that she was safely on her way. Hereached around on the floor, found the lace-bordered pantiesshe had left there, and put them safely into his jacket pocket.A ridiculous and frightening possibility suddenly occurred tohim?that she was still pantyless, stark naked under her shortskirt, and had sat in the public bus station for more than ahour like that and was now riding the bus with God-knows-whatsitting right there beside her.
Only one taxi now sat outside the station, its driver deadasleep behind the wheel.
Parker stepped out into the rain and hurried inside. Hewas surprised to see, at this late hour, so many people waiting.In fact, there were twenty or more sitting in the rows of blueplastic chairs and standing around the coffee machine in thecorner. Jennifer was not there. He walked over to talk with thewoman at the ticket window.
"I'm wondering if there was an eleven-fifty bus?" he said.
"It's gone," she said without looking up.
"Right on time."
"Yep. Just about."
"You don't remember if there was a young woman on it,do you? She might have been wearing a black wool coat."
The woman looked up.
"What's the matter with your hand, mister? It's bleedingon my counter."
Parker pulled his hand back, searched around in his pockets,found the panties, and wrapped them around his open palm.
"Where exactly was that bus going?"
"That bus? That bus was going as far west as a body cango without drowning."
He nodded and walked over to the window. The rainwas now whipping against it. Yes, and a hundred points between,he thought to himself. She could jump off at any one ofthem, her skirt lifting in the warm breeze. He stood there,staring vaguely in the direction of his car. Christ, he had comeall the way out here again. He was a fool. They would be rightabout that. He could not defend himself. He held his wrappedfist up to his mouth. His face was burning. Now he could notsee anything outside the window. Even his car seemed to haveraced away into the dark.
"Hell, you look like an honest guy," a man behind himsaid.
Parker turned and came eye to eye with a long-faced manwearing a Mariners cap.
"And that's saying something in this frigging place," theman added.
"You also missed the eleven-fifty?"
"I've got to sit through the whole night before there's another."
"You didn't happen to see a young woman in a dark woolcoat?"
The man stared at Parker's wrapped hand.
"Jesus, I wish to hell I had," he said. "Listen, this here'smy bag. This is what I'm washed up on, okay? It's just aboutthe whole thing."
He rested his foot on a large, army-green duffel bag thatsat on the floor between them. The two of them stood there,heads bowed, looking down at it.
"If you would just watch over it for a minute," he said."Make sure nobody steals it? You know the type. Just for tenminutes or so while I'm doing some business right over there."
He pointed across the room to the door that said "Men"on it.
Parker waited alone with the duffel bag until he felt something,like an old anchor, finally snap loose and sink within
