“That was planned too, of course?”
“Every word.”
Turee looked bewildered, confused. “I can’t — I can’t quite believe it.”
“I can’t quite believe it myself, sometimes.”
She turned her head suddenly as if she’d heard a sound she’d been waiting for and knew well. Half a minute later Harry appeared from around the side of the house.
He was a little paunchier, a little balder, than Turee remembered, but his step was still bouncy and his grin still boyish. It looked quite real, as if he was genuinely glad to see an old friend.
He crossed the patio, his hand extended. “Ralph, old boy. By God, you’re a sight for sore eyes. You don’t look a day older. Does he, Thelma? Sit down. How about a drink, fellow? What would you...”
“Let’s not play games, Harry,” Thelma cut in sharply. “Please.”
“Come now, we’ve got to be polite, sweetheart. What’s the matter with a little drink for auld lang syne?”
“I’m not sure Ralph would accept a drink from either of us.”
“Nonsense. He’s our friend.”
No one spoke, but the words So was Galloway hung in the air like dust in a shaft of sunlight.
Finally Turee said, “Did Galloway?”
“Did he what?” A fretful little frown appeared between Harry’s eyebrows. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“The night he died, did Galloway accept a drink from you?”
“Two, as a matter of fact.”
“Loaded with barbiturates?”
“Loaded with nothing more than Scotch.”
“How did you manage to drug him?”
“Drug him? Absurd. He came in, he said he was feeling sick and wanted something to settle his stomach. I gave it to him. Maybe I gave him too much. Quite accidentally.”
“Harry...”
“Must we go into all this? It’s done, it’s over, it’s been over for years. Besides, I’ve got a headache. Every time I go to the doctor I get a headache. I hate his guts. All these psychiatrists are quacks and fools.”
“Why go to him, then?”
“Thelma insists. There’s nothing the matter with me. The whole thing’s absurd. I feel fine. I only go to please Thelma. Isn’t that right, Thelma?”
Thelma was silent.
“Well, tell him, Thelma. Tell him there’s nothing the matter with me, I only go to the doctor to please you, Thelma?”
She sat mute, not looking at him but staring upwards, as if she were lost and alone on an island, searching the sky for signs of rescue.
“Tell him the truth, Thelma. Go on. The truth.”
“God help us,” she said and turned and began walking toward the house.
“Thelma, come back here.”
“No. Please.”
“I command you to come back here. You must obey me. I’m the boss. We settled that years ago, didn’t we? I’m the boss, aren’t I?”
She hesitated a moment, biting the corner of her mouth.
Then she said quietly, “Yes. Sure you are, Harry.”
“You mustn’t walk out on me like that. It’s disrespectful. I don’t like it. I won’t tolerate it. You hear?”
“Yes, Harry.”
He held out his hands toward her, palms up, and Turee saw on each wrist a red scar in the shape of a cross. “You know what I’ve got to do if you don’t treat me right, if you don’t behave yourself. And this time I won’t fail. I’ll cut deep.”
“No, Harry. Don’t. Don’t make me suffer any more.”
“You suffer? Thelma, Thelma, you’ve got it all wrong. I’m the one who must suffer. I must wash away your sins with my blood. Now sit down and be polite. Ralph came all the way down here to see us. We must be hospitable. He’s our old friend. Eh, Ralph? How many years has it been, Ralph?”
“About a dozen,” Turee said.
“Only a dozen? Ron and I were friends for twice that long. Ron’s dead,” he added, as if he were imparting a piece of news. “It’s my turn next.”
“Why do you think that?”
“Thelma and the doctor keep asking the same question. It’s not something I think. It’s something I know. Some people know things. Without rhyme or reason they just know. There’s a special day ahead for me. I will recognize it when it comes. There will be signs, in the sky, the air, the trees, so I will know, this is it, this is the day.”
“What about your wife and your little boy?”
“My little boy? So you believed her, too. I don’t blame you, it’s quite a convincing story she tells. Only it’s not true. The boy belongs to Galloway. Thelma lied to salve my ego. She’s a very talented liar. For a long time I believed her when she said she was pregnant before Ron ever went near her. I believed her because I so very much wanted to. I managed to convince myself that all the tests I’d taken back in Toronto were wrong, that I wasn’t sterile, I was a man like other men. Then one day, when I was giving the boy his bath, I noticed the way his left ear stuck out from his head a little more than the right ear, like Ron’s. And the shape of his hands and feet — exactly like Ron’s. And I knew then Thelma had lied to me. Oh, her reasons were noble, but she’d lied to me, deceived me, made a fool of me. She’d sinned. I had to do something, I kept thinking something must be done, Thelma must be saved. I tried to wash away her sins with my blood.” He held out his scarred wrists. “She didn’t understand. She thought it was a mere suicide attempt. She called the fool-doctor and they took me to a hospital. They couldn’t keep me there, though. I’m too smart. I was polite, I behaved myself, I answered their questions. They let me go in a couple of weeks. The trick is to tell them enough but not too much. Let them think you’re communicating but keep your secrets to yourself. Talk all you want about your childhood but not about your child. Especially if he’s not really yours. Thelma.”
She raised her eyes to him. They looked pale and pure as if they’d been washed a thousand times with tears. “Don’t leave me alone, Harry. I love you.”
“I know that,” he said wearily. “I love you too. But the time has come when I must know the truth. I have been living with so many lies, I can hardly tell any more what’s real and what isn’t. Like Charley. Your husband, Charley. I know he isn’t real, we made him up together, you and I. Yet sometimes I can see him quite distinctly, sitting in my chair, driving my car, walking into your bedroom and closing the door. And if I listen hard enough I can hear the two of you whispering together, I can hear the creak of bedsprings, and I know you’re making love in there, you and Charley, and I want to kill him for the same reason I killed Ron, because he dared to touch you.”
“Don’t go on, don’t think about it.”
“You never knew that before, did you, Thelma? I didn’t want Ron’s money. I wanted his life. I killed him out of rage and hate and jealousy. When he was in the back seat unconscious and I was driving his car, wearing his cap, carrying his wallet, I felt like a man. Funny, isn’t it? He wasn’t really much of a man. But he had something I didn’t, something I wanted. And later when I was strapping him into the safety belt on top of the cliff, and you were waiting on the road in our own car, all I could think of was, you’ll never touch her again, Galloway, you’ll never touch another woman, cuckold another friend, beget another bastard...”
“Stop. Please stop.”
“Not now. This is the time for truth. You’re such a natural liar, Thelma. You lie the way other people breathe, without thinking about it.”
“No!”
“But you must tell the truth now. There isn’t much time. The boy — my boy — he’s not really mine, is he, Thelma?”