thelasttimewehadadrinkinabarwasinmayanditwasearlierthanusual,justafterfouro’clock.helookedtiredandthinnerbuthelookedaroundwithaslowsmileofpleasure.

“ilikebarsjustaftertheyopenfortheevening.whentheairinsideisstillcoolandcleanandeverythingisshinyandthebarkeepisgivinghimselfthatlastlookinthemirrortoseeifhistieisstraightandhishairissmooth.iliketheneatbottlesonthebarbackandthelovelyshiningglassesandtheanticipation.iliketowatchthemanmixthefirstoneoftheeveningandputitdownonacrispmatandputthelittlefoldednapkinbesideit.iliketotasteitslowly.thefirstquietdrinkoftheeveninginaquietbar—that’swonderful.”

iagreedwithhim.

“alcoholislikelove,”hesaid.“thefirstkissismagic,thesecondisintimate,thethirdisroutine.afterthatyoutakethegirl’sclothesoff.”

“isthatbad?”iaskedhim.

“it’sexcitementofahighorder,butit’sanimpureemotion—impureintheaestheticsense.i’mnotsneeringatsex.it’snecessaryanditdoesn’thavetobeugly.butitalwayshastobemanaged.makingitglamorousisabillion-dollarindustryanditcostseverycentofit.”

helookedaroundandyawned.“ihaven’tbeensleepingwell.it’sniceinhere.butafterawhilethelusheswillfilltheplaceupandtalkloudandlaughandthegoddamwomenwillstartwavingtheirhandsandscrewinguptheirfacesandtinklingtheirgoddambraceletsandmakingwiththepackagedcharmwhichwilllateronintheeveninghaveaslightbutunmistakableodorofsweat.”

“takeiteasy,”isaid.“sothey’rehuman,theysweat,theygetdirty,theyhavetogotothebathroom.whatdidyouexpect—goldenbutterflieshoveringinarosymist?”

heemptiedhisglassandhelditupsidedownandwatchedaslowdropformontherimandthentrembleandfall.

“i’msorryforher,”hesaidslowly.“she’ssuchanabsolutebitch.couldbei’mfondofhertooinaremotesortofway.somedayshe’llneedmeandi’llbetheonlyguyaroundnotholdingachisel.likelyenoughtheni’llflunkout.”

ijustlookedathim.“youdoagreatjobofsellingyourself,”isaidafteramoment.

“yeah,iknow.i’maweakcharacter,withoutgutsorambition.icaughtthebrassringanditshockedmetofindoutitwasn’tgold.aguylikemehasonebigmomentinhislife,oneperfectswingonthehightrapeze.thenhespendstherestofhistimetryingnottofalloffthesidewalkintothegutter.”

“what’sthisinfavorof?”igotoutapipeandstartedtofillit.

“she’sscared.she’sscaredstiff.”

“whatof?”

“idon’tknow.wedon’ttalkmuchanymore.maybeoftheoldman.harlanpotterisacoldheartedsonofabitch.allvictoriandignityontheoutside.insidehe’sasruthlessasagestapothug.sylviaisatramp.heknowsitandhehatesitandthere’snothinghecandoaboutit.buthewaitsandhewatchesandifsylviaevergetsintoabigmessofscandalhe’llbreakherinhalfandburythetwohalvesathousandmilesapart.”

“you’reherhusband.”

heliftedtheemptyglassandbroughtitdownhardontheedgeofthetable.itsmashedwithasharpping.thebarmanstared,butdidn’tsayanything.

“likethat,chum.likethat.ohsure,i’mherhusband.that’swhattherecordsays.i’mthethreewhitestepsandthebiggreenfrontdoorandthebrassknockeryouraponelongandtwoshortandthemaidletsyouintothehundred-dollarwhorehouse.”

istoodupanddroppedsomemoneyonthetable.“youtalktoodamnmuch,”isaid,“andit’stoodamnmuchaboutyou.seeyoulater.”

iwalkedoutleavinghimsittingthereshockedandwhite-facedaswellasicouldtellbythekindoflighttheyhaveinbars.hecalledsomethingafterme,butikeptgoing.

tenminuteslateriwassorry.buttenminuteslateriwassomewhereelse.hedidn’tcometotheofficeanymore,notatall,notonce.ihadgottohimwhereithurt.

ididn’tseehimagainforamonth.whenididitwasfiveo’clockinthemorningandjustbeginningtogetlight.thepersistentringingofthedoorbellyankedmeoutofbed.iploweddownthehallandacrossthelivingroomandopenedup.hestoodtherelookingasifhehadn’tsleptforaweek.hehadalighttopcoatonwiththecollarturnedupandheseemedtobeshivering.adarkfelthatwaspulleddownoverhiseyes.

hehadaguninhishand.