March 06, 2000 Issue

The Love of My Life

BY T. C. BOYLE

Theyworeeachotherlikeapairofsocks.Hewasatherhouse,shewas
athis.Everywheretheywenttothemall,tothegame,tomoviesand
shopsandtheclassesthatstructuredtheirdayslikeanewkindof
chronologytheirfingerswereentwined,theirshoulderstouching,their
hipsjoinedintheslowtriumphantsashayoflove.Hedrovehercar,slept
onthecouchinthefamilyroomatherparentshouse,playedtennisand
watchedfootballwithherfatheronthebig,thirtysixinchTVinthe
kitchen.Shewentshoppingwithhismotherandhers,atriumvirateof
tastes,andshewouldhaveplayedtenniswithhisfather,ifitcametoit,
buthisfatherwasdead.Iloveyou,hetoldher,becausehedid,
becausetherewasnofeelinglikethis,notriumph,nohighitwaslike
beingimmortalandunconquerable,likefloating.Andahundredtimesa
dayshesaidit,too:Iloveyou.Iloveyou.
Theyweretogetherathishouseonenightwhentherainfrozeonthe
streetsandsheathedthetreesinglass.Itwasherideatotakeawalkand
feelitintheirhairandontheglisteningshouldersoftheirparkas,an
otherworldlydrummingofpelletsflungdownoutofthetroposphere,
alienandfamiliaratthesametime,andtheyglidedthelengthofthe
frontwalkandwatchedthewaythepowerlinesbelliedandswayed.He
builtafirewhentheygotback,whileshetowelledherhairandmadehot
chocolatelacedwithJackDaniels.Theydrentedapairofslasher
moviesfortheritualizedcomfortofthemTeenshavesex,hesaid,
andthentheypayforitinbodypartsandthemaniachadjust
climbedoutoftheheatingvent,withameathookdanglingfromthe
recessesofhisemptysleeve,whenthephonerang.

Itwashismother,callingfromthehotelroominBostonwhereshewas
curledupshackedup?fortheweekendwiththemanshedbeen
dating.Hetriedtopictureher,buthecouldnt.Heevenclosedhiseyesa
minute,toconcentrate,buttherewasnothingthere.Waseverythingall
right?shewantedtoknow.Withthestormandall?No,ithadnthit
Bostonyet,butshesawontheWeatherChannelthatitwasonitsway.
TwosecondsafterhehungupbeforeshecouldevenhittheStart
buttonontheVCRthephonerangagain,andthistimeitwasher
mother.Hermotherhadbeendrinking.Shewascallingfroma
restaurant,andChinacouldhearaclamorofvoicesinthebackground.
Juststayput,hermothershoutedintothephone.Thestreetsarelikea
skatingrink.Dontyoueventhinkofgettinginthatcar.
Well,shewasntthinkingofit.ShewasthinkingofhavingJeremyto
herself,allnight,inthebigbedinhismothersroom.Theydbeen
havingsexeversincetheystartedgoingtogetherattheendoftheir
junioryear,butitwasalwayssexinthecarorsexonablanketorthe
lawn,hurriedsex,nothinglikeshewantedittobe.Shekeptthinkingof
thewayitwasinthemovies,wherethestarsambushedeachotheron
bedsthesizeofsmallplanetsandthendiditagainandagainuntilthey
laynestledinaheapofpillowsandblankets,herheadonhischest,his
armflungoverhershoulder,themusicfadingawaytoindividualnotes
pluckedsoftlyonaguitarandeverythingintheframeglowingasifit
hadbeensprayedwithliquidgold.Thatwashowitwassupposedtobe.
Thatwashowitwasgoingtobe.Atleastfortonight.
Shedbeenwanderingaroundthekitchenasshetalked,dancingwiththe
phoneinanidleslowsaraband,watchingthefrostsketchadesignonthe
windowoverthesink,nosoundbutthesofthissoftheicepelletsonthe
roof,andnowshepulledopenthefreezerdoorandextractedapintbox

oficecream.Shewasinhersocks,sockssothicktheywerelikeslippers,
andapairofblackleggingsunderanoversizesweater.Beneathherfeet,
thepolishedfloorboardswereasslickasthesidewalkoutside,andshe
likedthefeelofthat,skatingindoorsinherbigsocks.Uhhuh,shesaid
intothephone.Uhhuh.Yeah,werewatchingamovie.Sheduga
fingerintotheicecreamandstuckitinhermouth.
Comeon,Jeremycalledfromthelivingroom,wherethemaniac
rippledmenacinglyoverthePausebutton.Youregoingtomissthebest
part.
O.K.,Mom,O.K.,shesaidintothephone,partingwords,andthenshe
hungup.Youwanticecream?shecalled,lickingherfinger.
Jeremysvoicecamebackather,avoiceinthemiddlerange,witha
congenitalscratchinit,thevoiceofaniceguy,averyniceguywho
couldbethestarofaTVshowaboutniceguys:Whatkind?Hehada
pairofshouldersandpumpedupbiceps,too,asmilethatjumpedfrom
hislipstohiseyes,andclosecroppedhairthatstoodupstraightoffthe
crownofhishead.Andhewasalwayssingingshelovedthathis
voicesotruehecoulddoanysong,andtherewasnolyrichedidnt
know,evenontheoldiesstation.Shescoopedicecreamandsawhimin
ascenefromlastsummer,onehanddrapedcasuallyoverthewheelof
hiscar,theradiothrobbing,hisvoiceraisedinperfectsynchwithBilly
Corgans,andthenightstandingstillattheendofalongdarkstreet
overhungwithmaples.
Chocolate.Swisschocolatealmond.

O.K.,hesaid,andthenhewaswonderingiftherewasanywhipped
cream,ormaybehotfudgehewassurehismotherhadajarstashed
awaysomewhere,Lookbehindthemayonnaiseonthetoprowand
whensheturnedaroundhewasstandinginthedoorway.
Shekissedhimtheykissedwhenevertheymet,nomatterwhereor
when,evenifoneofthemhadjuststeppedoutoftheroom,becausethat
waslove,thatwasthewaylovewasandthentheytooktwobowlsof
icecreamintothelivingroomand,withaflickoftheremote,setthe
maniacbackinmotion.
Itwasanearlyspringthatyear,theworldgonegreenovernight,the
thermometertwicehittingtheloweightiesinthefirstweekofMarch.
Teacherswereholdingsessionsoutside.Thewholeschool,eventhehalls
andthecafeteria,smelledoffreshmowedgrassandtheunfolding
blossomsofthefruittreesinthedevelopmentacrossthestreet,and
studentsespeciallyseniorswerecuttingclasstogoouttothequarry
orthereservoirortojustdrivethebackstreetswiththesunroofandthe
windowsopenwide.ButnotChina.Shewashittingthebooks,studying
late,puttingeverythinginitsplacelikepegsinaboard,evenlove,even
that.Jeremydidntgetit.Look,youvealreadybeenacceptedatyour
firstchoiceschool,youregoingtowindupinthetoptenG.P.A.wise,
andyouvegotfouryearsoftestsandtermpapersaheadofyou,andgrad
schoolafterthat.Youllonlybeahighschoolsenioronceinyourlife.
Relax.Enjoyit.Oratleastexperienceit.
HedbeenacceptedatBrown,hisfathersalmamater,andhisown
G.P.A.wouldputhiminthetoptenpercentoftheirgraduatingclass,
andhewascontentwiththat,skatingthroughhisfinalsemester,nomath,
noscience,takingartandmusic,thethingshedalwayswantedtotake

butneverhadtimeforandLit.,ofcourse,A.P.History,andSpanish5.
Tereselamordemivida,hewouldtellherwhentheymetather
lockeroratlunchorwhenhepickedherupforamovieonSaturday
nights.
Yttambin,shewouldsay,orisityotambin?Frenchwasher
language.ButIkeeptellingyouitreallymatterstome,becauseIknow
IllnevercatchMargeryYuorChristianDavenport,Imeantheyrea
lockforvalandsalut,butitllkillmeifpeoplelikeKerrySharpor
JalapySeegrandfinishaheadofmeyoushouldknowthat,youofall
people
Itamazedhimthatsheactuallybroughtherbooksalongwhentheywent
backpackingoverspringbreak.Theydplannedthetripallwinterand
throughthelongwindtunnelthatwasFebruary,packingawayfreeze
driedentres,PowerBars,GoreTexwindbreakers,andmatching
sweatshirts,weighingeachitemonahandheldscalewithadangling
hookatthebottomofit.TheyweregoingupintotheCatskills,toalake
hedfoundonamap,andtheyweregoingtobetogether,without
interruption,withouttelephones,automobiles,parents,teachers,friends,
relatives,andpets,forfivefulldays.Theyweregoingtocookoveran
openfire,theyweregoingtoreadtoeachotherandburrowintothe
doublesleepingbagwiththeconnubialzipperuptheseamhedfoundin
hismotherscloset,arelicofherowntimeinthelapofnature.Itsmelled
ofher,ofhismother,avaguescentofherperfumethathadlingered
theredormantalltheseyears,andmaybetherewasthefaintestwhiffof
hisfather,too,thoughhisfatherhadbeengonesolonghedidnteven
rememberwhathelookedlike,letalonewhathemighthavesmelled
like.Fivedays.Anditwasntgoingtorain,notadrop.Hedidnteven
bringhisfishingrod,andthatwaslove.

WhenthelastbellrangdownthecurtainonHonorsMath,Jeremywas
waitingatthecurbinhismothersVolvostationwagon,grinningupat
Chinathroughthewindshieldwhiletherestoftheschoolsweptpastwith
nothoughtforanythingbutrelease.Therewereshoutsandcurses,T
shirtsinmotion,slashinglegs,hornsbleatingfromtheseniorslot,the
schoolbuseslineduplikearmoredvehiclesawaitingtheinvasion
chaos,sweetchaosandshestoodthereamomenttosavorit.Your
motherscar?shesaid,slippinginbesidehimandlayingbotharmsover
hisshoulderstopullhimtoherforakiss.Hedbroughtherjeansand
hikingbootsalong,andshewasgoingtochangeastheydrove,noneed
togohome,nomorecircumventionanddelay,astopatMcDonalds,
maybe,orBurgerKing,andthenitwasthesunandthewindandthe
moonandthestars.Fivedays.Fivewholedays.
Yeah,hesaid,inanswertoherquestion,mymothersaidshedidnt
wanttohavetoworryaboutusbreakingdowninthemiddleofnowhere

Soshesgotyourcar?Shesgoingtosellrealestateinyourcar?
Hejustshruggedandsmiled.Freeatlast,hesaid,pitchinghisvoice
downlowtillitwasexactlylikeMartinLutherKings.ThankGod
Almighty,wearefreeatlast.
Itwasdarkbythetimetheygottothetrailhead,andtheywoundup
campingjustofftheroadinarockytumbleofbrush,noplaceonearth
lesslikelyorlesscomfortable,buttheyweretogether,andtheyheldeach
otherthroughthedampwhisperinghoursofthenightandhardlysleptat
all.Theymadethelakebynoonthenextday,thetreesjustcominginto
leaf,theairsweetwiththesmellofthesuninthepines.Sheinsistedon

settingupthetent,justincaseitcouldrain,youneverknewbutall
hewantedtodowasstretchoutonagrayneoprenepadandfeelthesun
onhisface.Eventually,theybothfellasleepinthesun,andwhenthey
woketheymadeloverightthere,beneaththetrees,andwiththewide
blueexpanseofthelakegivingbacktheblueofthesky.Fordinner,it
wastouffeandrice,outofthefoilpouch,washeddownwithhot
chocolateandafewsquirtsofredwinefromJeremysbotabag.
Thenextday,thewholedaythrough,theydidntbotherwithclothesat
all.Theycouldntswim,ofcoursethelakewastoocoldforthatbut
theycouldbaskandexploreandfeelthebreezeoutofthesouthontheir
barelegsandtheplaceswherenobreezehadtouchedbefore.Shewould
rememberthatalways,thefeelofthat,theintensityofheremotions,the
simpleunrefinedpleasureoflivinginthemoment.Woodsmoke.
Duellingflashlightsinthenight.ThelookonJeremysfacewhenhe
presentedherwiththebagoffingersizecrayfishhedspentallmorning
collecting.
Whatelse?Therain,ofcourse.Itcamemidwaythroughthethirdday,
cloudsthecolorofironfilings,thelakehammeredtoiron,too,andthe
stormthatcrashedthroughthetreesandbeatattheirtentwithathousand
angryfists.Theyhuddledinthesleepingbag,sharingthewineandabag
oftrailmix,readingtoeachotherfromabookofDonneslovepoems
(shewaswritingapaperforMrs.MastersoncalledOcularImageryin
thePoetryofJohnDonne)andthelastthirdofavampirenovelthat
weighedeighteenpointoneounces.
Andthesex.Theywerecareful,alwayscarefulIwillnever,neverbe
likethosebreedersthatbringtheirpuffedupsquallinglittleredfaced
babiestoclass,shetoldhim,andheagreed,gotadamantaboutit,even,

untilitbecamearunningthemeintheirrelationship,thebreeders
overpopulatinganoverpopulatedworldandruiningtheirownlivesinthe
processbutshehadforgottentopackherpillsandhehadonlytwo
condomswithhim,anditwasntasiftherewereadrugstorearoundthe
corner.
InthefallortheendofAugust,actuallytheypackedtheircars
separatelyandleftforcollege,hetoProvidenceandshetoBinghamton.
Theywereseparatedbythreehundredmiles,buttherewasthetelephone,
therewasEmail,andforthefirstmonthorsotherewereSaturdaynights
inamotelinDanbury,butthatwasahaul,itreallywas,andtheyboth
agreedthattheyshouldfocusontheircourseworkandcutbacktoevery
secondormaybethirdweek.Onthedaytheydleftandno,shedidnt
wantherparentsdrivingherupthere,shewasanadultandshecould
takecareofherselfJeremyfollowedherasfarastheBearMountain
Bridgeandtheypulledofftheroadandheldeachothertillthesunfell
downintothetrees.Shehadapoemforhim,aDonnepoem,thesaddest
thinghedeverheard.Itwassomethingaboutthemoon.Morethan
moon,thatwasit,loverspartingandtheirtearsswellinglikeanoceantill
thegirlthewoman,thefemalehadmorepowertoraisethetidesthan
themoonitself,orsomesuch.Morethanmoon.Thatswhathecalled
herafterthat,becauseshewaswhiteandroundandgettingrounder,and
itwasnojoke,anditwasnotermofendearment.
Shewaspregnant.Pregnant,theyfigured,sincethecampingtrip,andit
wastheirsecret,anewconstantintheirlives,afact,aninescapablefact
thatnevervariednomatterhowmanyhomepregnancykitstheywent
through.Baggyclothes,thatwasthekey,allinblack,cargopants,
flowingdresses,ajacketeveninsummer.Theywenttoastoreinthecity
wherenobodyknewthemandshegotagirdle,andthenshewentaway

toschoolinBinghamtonandhewenttoProvidence.Youvegottoget
ridofit,hetoldherinthemotelroomthathadbecomeaprison.Goto
aclinic,hetoldherforthehundredthtime,andoutsideitwasraining
or,no,itwasclearandcoldthatnight,aforetasteofwinter.Illfindthe
moneyyouknowIwill.
Shewouldntrespond.Wouldntevenlookathim.OneoftheStar
WarsmovieswasonTV,greatflatthunderingplanesofmetalroaring
acrossthescreen,andshewasjustsittingthereontheedgeofthebed,
hershouldershunchedandhairhanginglimp.Someoneslammedacar
doortwodoorsinrapidsuccessionandachildsvoiceshouted,Me!
Mefirst!
China,hesaid.Areyoulisteningtome?
Icant,shemurmured,andshewastalkingtoherlap,tothebed,tothe
floor.Imscared.Imsoscared.Therewerefootstepsintheroomnext
door,ponderousandheavy,thenthequicktattooofthechildsfeetanda
suddenthumpagainstthewall.Idontwantanyonetoknow,shesaid.
Hecouldhaveheldher,couldhavesqueezedinbesideherandwrapped
herinhisarms,butsomethingflaredinhim.Hecouldntunderstandit.
Hejustcouldnt.Whatareyouthinking?Nobodyllknow.Hesa
doctor,forChristssake,sworntosecrecy,thedoctorpatientcompact
andallthat.Whatareyougoingtodo,keepit?Huh?Justshowupfor
English101withababyonyourlapandsay,Hi,ImtheVirgin
Mary?
Shewascrying.Hecouldseeitinthewayhershoulderssuddenly
crumpledandnowhecouldhearit,too,asoftnasalcomplaintthatwent

rightthroughhim.Sheliftedherfacetohimandheldoutherarmsand
hewastherebesideher,rockingherbackandforthinhisarms.Hecould
feeltheheatofherfaceagainstthehardfibreofhischest,awetness
there,fluids,herfluids.Idontwantadoctor,shesaid.
Andthatcoloredeverything,thatsimplenegative:lifeinthedorms,
roommates,bars,bullshitsessions,thesmellofburningleavesandthe
waythelightfellacrosscampusingreatwidesmokingbandsjustbefore
dinner,theunofficialskateboardclub,films,lectures,peprallies,football
noneofitmattered.Hecouldnthavealife.Couldntbeafreshman.
Couldntwakeupinthemorningandtumbleintotheslowsteadycurrent
oftheworld.Allhecouldthinkofwasher.Ornotsimplyherherand
him,andwhathadcomebetweenthem.Becausetheyarguednow,they
wrangledandfoughtanddebated,anditwasnopleasuretoseeherin
thatmotelroomwiththequeensizebedandthebigcolorTVandthe
soapsandshampoostheymadeoffwithasiftheyweretreasure.Shewas
pigheaded,stubborn,irrational.Shewasspoiled,hecouldseethatnow,
spoiledbyherparentsandtheirstandardoflivingandthesocioeconomic
expectationsofherclassofhisclassandthepromiseoflifeasyou
likeit,anunscrollingvistaofpleasureandacquisition.Helovedher.He
didntwanttoturnhisbackonher.Hewouldbethereforhernomatter
what,butwhydidshehavetobesostupid?
Bigsweats,hugesweats,sweatsthatdrownedandengulfedher,thatwas
hercampuslife,sweatsandthedininghall.Herdormmatesdidntknow
her,andsowhatifshewasputtingonweight?Everybodydid.How
couldyoushoveldownallthosecarbohydrates,allthatsugarandgrease
andthepuddingsandnachosandalltherest,withoutputtingontenor
fifteenpoundsthefirstsemesteralone?Halfthegirlsinthedormwere
waddlingaroundliketheDoughboy,theirfacesbloatedandblotched

withacne,withcrustingpimplesandwhiteheadsfedonfat.Soshewas
puttingonweight.Bigdeal.Theresmoreofmetolove,shetoldher
roommate,andJeremylikesitthatway.And,really,hestheonlyone
thatmatters.Shewascarefultoshoweralone,intheearlymorning,
longbeforethelighthadbeguntobumpupagainstthewindows.
OnthenightherwaterbrokeitwasmidDecember,almostnine
months,asbestasshecouldfigureitwasraining.Raininghard.All
weekshedbeenhavingtenseraspingsottovocedebateswithJeremyon
thephonearguments,fightsandshetoldhimthatshewoulddie,
creepoutintothewoodslikesomeanimalandbleedtodeath,before
shedgotoahospital.AndwhatamIsupposedtodo?hedemandedin
ahighchildishwhine,asifheweretheonewhodbeenknockedup,and
shedidntwanttohearit,shedidnt.
Doyouloveme?shewhispered.Therewasalonghesitation,apause
youcouldhavepouredalltheaffirmationoftheworldinto.
Yes,hesaidfinally,hisvoicesosoftandreluctantitwaslikethelast
gaspofadyingoldman.
Thenyouregoingtohavetorentthemotel.
Andthenwhat?
ThenIdontknow.Thedoorwasopen,herroommateframedthere
inthehall,aburstofrockandrollcomingatherlikeanassault.Iguess
youllhavetogetabookorsomething.

Byeight,therainhadturnedtoiceandeverybranchofeverytreewas
coatedwithit,thehighwaylitteredwithglisteningblacksticks,nomoon,
nostars,thetiresslidingoutfromunderher,andshefeltheavy,bigasa
sumowrestler,heavyandlooseatthesametime.Shedtakenatowel
fromthedormandputitunderher,ontheseat,butitwasamess,
everythingwasamess.Shewascramping.Fidgetingwithherhair.She
triedtheradio,butitwasnohelp,nothingbutsongsshehated,singers
thatwereworse.TwentytwomilestoDanburyandthefirstofthe
contractionscamelikeaseizure,likeaknifebladethrustintoherspine.
Herworldnarrowedtowhattheheadlightswouldshowher.
Jeremywaswaitingforheratthedoortotheroom,thelightbehindhim
apalerinseofnothing,nosmileonhisface,nohumanexpressionatall.
Theydidntkisstheydidnteventouchandthenshewasonthebed,
onherback,herfaceclenchedlikeafist.Sheheardtherattleofthesleet
atthewindow,themurmuroftheTV:Icantletyougolikethis,aman
protested,andshecouldpicturehim,angularandtall,amaninahatand
overcoatinablackandwhiteworldthatmighthavebeenanotherplanet,
Ijustcant.Areyou?Jeremysvoicedriftedintothemix,andthen
stalled.Areyouready?Imean,isittime?Isitcomingnow?
Shesaidonethingthen,onethingonly,hervoiceaspinchedandhollow
asthesoundofthewindinthegutters:Getitoutofme.
Ittookamoment,andthenshecouldfeelhishandsfumblingwithher
sweats.
Later,hourslater,whennothinghadhappenedbutpain,aparadeofpain
withdrummajorsandbrassbandsandpenitentscrawlingontheirhands
andkneestillthestreetswerestainedwiththeirblood,shecriedoutand

criedoutagain.ItslikeAlien,shegasped,likethatthinginAlien
whenit,it
ItsO.K.,hekepttellingher,itsO.K.,buthisfacebetrayedhim.He
lookedscared,lookedasifhedbeendrainedofbloodinsomeevil
experimentinyetanothermovie,andapartofherwantedtobesorryfor
him,butanotherpart,thepartthatwassocommandingandfierceit
overrodeeverythingelse,couldntbegintobe.
Hewasuseless,andheknewit.Hedneverbeensopurelysickatheart
andterrifiedinallhislife,buthetriedtobethereforher,triedtodohis
best,andwhenthebabycameout,thebabygirlallslickwithbloodand
mucusandthelumpedwhitestuffthatwaslikesomethingspilledatthe
bottomofagarbagecan,hewasthinkingoftheninthgradeandhow
closehedcometofaintingwhiletheteacherwentaroundtheroomto
pricktheirfingersonebyonesotheyeachcouldsmearadropofblood
acrossaslide.Hedidntfaintnow.Buthewasclosetoit,soclosehe
couldfeeltheroomdodgingawayunderhisfeet.Andthenhervoice,the
firstintelligiblethingshedsaidinanhour:Getridofit.Justgetridof
it.
OfthedrivebacktoBinghamtonherememberednothing.Orpractically
nothing.Theytooktowelsfromthemotelandspreadthemacrossthe
seatofhercar,hecouldrememberthatmuch...andtheblood,how
couldheforgettheblood?Itsoakedthroughhersweatsandthetowels
andeventhethickcottonbathmatandintothewornfabricoftheseat
itself.Anditallcamefrominsideher,allofit,tissueandmucusandthe
shiningbrightfluid,noendtoit,asifshedbeenturnedinsideout.He
wantedtoaskheraboutthat,ifthatwasnormal,butshewasasleepthe
minutesheslidoutfromunderhisarmanddroppedintotheseat.Ifhe

focussed,ifhereallyconcentrated,hecouldrememberthewayherhead
lolledagainstthedoorframewhiletheenginewhinedandthecarrocked
andtheslushthrewadarkblanketoverthewindshieldeverytimeatruck
shotpastintheoppositedirection.Thatandtheexhaustion.Hednever
beensotired,hisheadonastring,shouldersslumped,hisarmsliketwo
pillarsofconcrete.Andwhatifhednoddedoff?Whatifhedgoneinto
askidandhurtledoveranembankmentintothefilthygrayaccumulation
oftheworstdayofhislife?Whatthen?
Shemadeitintothedormunderherownpower,nobodyevenlookedat
her,and,no,shedidntneedhishelp.Callme,shewhispered,andthey
kissed,herlipssocolditwaslikekissingasteakthroughtheplastic
wrap,andthenheparkedhercarinthestudentlotandwalkedtothebus
station.HemadeDanburylatethatnight,caughtarideouttothemotel,
andwalkedrightthroughtheDoNotDisturbsignonthedoor.Fifteen
minutes.Thatwasallittook.Hebundledupeverything,everytrace,left
thekeyintheboxatthedesk,andstoodscrapingtheiceoffthe
windshieldofhiscarwhilethenightopenedupabovehimtoablack
glitterofsky.Henevergaveathoughttowhatlaydiscardedinthe
Dumpsteroutback,itselfwrappedinplastic,somuchmeat,somuch
coldmeat.
Hewasattheverypinnacleofhisdream,theriverdressedinitscurrents,
thedeepholeunderthecutbank,andthefishlikesilverbullets
swarmingtohisbait,whentheywokehimwhenRobwokehim,Rob
Greiner,hisroommate,Robwithafaceofcrumblingstoneandtwo
policementhereatthedoorbehindhimandtheroarofthedormfalling
awaytoawhisper.Andthatwasstrange,policemen,arealanomalyin
thatsetting,andatfirstforthefirstthirtyseconds,atleasthehadno
ideawhattheyweredoingthere.Parkingtickets?Couldthatbeit?But

thentheyaskedhimhisname,justtoconfirmit,joinedhishands
togetherbehindhisback,andfittedtwoloopsofnakedmetaloverhis
wrists,andhebegantounderstand.HesawMcCaffreyandTuttlefrom
acrossthehallstaringathimasifhewereJeffreyDahmerorsomething,
andtherestofthem,alltherest,everyheadpokingoutofeverydoorup
anddownthecorridor,asthepoliceledhimaway.
Whatsthisallabout?hekeptsaying,thecruisernosingthroughthe
darkstreetstothestationhouse,themanatthewheelandthemanbeside
himasincapableofspeechastheseatsorthewiremeshorthegleaming
blackdashboardthatdraggedthemforwardintothenight.Andthenit
wasupthestepsandintoanexplosionoflight,moremeninuniform,
standhere,givemeyourhand,nowtheotherone,andthenthecageand
thequestions.Onlythendidhethinkofthatthinginthegarbagesack
andthesoundithadmadeitsbodyhadmadewhenheflungitinto
theDumpsterlikeasackofflourandthelidslammeddownonit.He
staredatthewalls,andthiswasamovie,too.Hedneverbeenintrouble
before,neverbeeninsideapolicestation,butheknewhisrolewell
enough,becausehedseenitplayedoutathousandtimesonthetube:
denyeverything.Evenasthetwodetectivessettledinacrossfromhimat
thebarewoodentableinthelittleboxoftheoverlitroomhewastelling
himselfjustthat:Denyit,denyitall.
Thefirstdetectiveleanedforwardandsethishandsonthetableasif
hedcomeforamanicure.Hewasinhisthirties,ormaybehisforties,a
tiredlookingmanwiththescarsoftheturmoilhedwitnessedgouged
intothefleshunderhiseyes.Hedidntofferacigarette(Idontsmoke,
Jeremywaspreparedtosay,givingthemthatmuchatleast),andhe
didntsmileorsoftenhiseyes.Andwhenhespokehisvoicecarriedno

freightatall,notoutrageorthreatorcajoleryitwasjustavoice,flat
andtired.DoyouknowaChinaBerkowitz?hesaid.
Andshe.Shewasinthecommunityhospital,wheretheambulancehad
depositedherafterherroommatehadcalled911inavoicethatwaslike
abonestuckinthebackofherthroat,anditwasrainingagain.Her
parentswerethere,hermotherredeyedandsniffling,herfatherlooking
likeanactorwhohasforgottenhislines,andtherewasanotherwoman
there,too,apolicewoman.Thepolicewomansatinanorangeplastic
chairinthecorner,dippingherheadtotheknittinginherlap.Atfirst,
Chinasmotherhadtriedtobepleasanttothewoman,butpleasant
wasntwhatthecircumstancescalledfor,andnowsheignoredher,
becausetheveryunpleasantfactwasthatChinawasbeingtakeninto
custodyassoonasshewasreleasedfromthehospital.
Foralongwhilenoonesaidanythingeverythinghadalreadybeen
said,overandover,onelongfloodofhurtandrecriminationandthe
antisepticsilenceofthehospitalheldtheminitsgripwhiletherainbeat
atthewindowsandthemachinesatthefootofthebedcountedoff
numbers.FromdownthehallcameasnatchofTVdialogue,andfora
minuteChinaopenedhereyesandthoughtshewasbackinthedorm.
Honey,hermothersaid,raisingapurgatorialfacetoher,areyouall
right?CanIgetyouanything?
IneedtoIthinkIneedtopee.
Why?herfatherdemanded,anditwastheperfectnonsequitur.He
wasupoutofthechair,standingoverher,hiseyeslikecracked
porcelain.Whydidntyoutellus,oratleasttellyourmotherorDr.
Fredman?Dr.Fredman,atleast.Hesbeenheslikeafamilymember,

youknowthat,andhecouldhave,orhewouldhave...Whatwereyou
thinking,forChristssake?
Thinking?Shewasntthinkinganything,notthenandnotnow.Allshe
wantedandshedidntcarewhattheydidtoher,beather,tortureher,
dragherweepingthroughthestreetsinadirtywhitedresswithBaby
KillerstitchedoverherbreastinscarletletterswastoseeJeremy.Just
that.Becausewhatreallymatteredwaswhathewasthinking.
ThefoodattheSarahBarnesCooperWomensCorrectionalInstitute
wasexactlywhattheyservedatthedininghallincollege,heavyonthe
sugars,starches,andbadcholesterol,andthatwouldhavestruckheras
ironicifshedbeenthereunderothercircumstancesdoingcommunity
outreach,say,orresearchingapaperforsociologyclass.Butgiventhe
factthatshedbeenlockedupformorethanamonthnow,theobjectof
theothergirlsthreats,scorn,andjustplainnastiness,giventhefactthat
herlifewasruinedbeyondanyhopeofredemption,andeverynewspaper
inthecountryhadhershrunkenwhitefaceplasteredacrossitsfrontpage
underaheadlinethatscreamedMOTELMOM,shedidnthavemuchuse
forirony.Shewasscaredtwentyfourhoursaday.Scaredofthepresent,
scaredofthefuture,scaredofthereporterswaitingforthejudgetoset
bailsothattheycouldswarmalloverhertheminuteshesteppedoutthe
door.Shecouldntconcentrateonthebooksandmagazineshermother
broughther,orevenontheTVintherecroom.Shesatinherroomit
wasaroom,justlikeadormroom,exceptthattheylockedyouinat
nightandstaredatthewalls,eatingpeanuts,M&Ms,sunflowerseeds
bythehandful,chewingforthepureanimalgratificationofit.Shewas
puttingonmoreweight,andwhatdiditmatter?

Jeremywasdifferent.Hedlosteverythinghiswalk,hissmile,the
musclesofhisupperarmsandshoulders.Evenhishairlayflatnow,asif
hecouldntbotherwithatubeofgelandacomb.Whenshesawhimat
thearraignment,sawhimforthefirsttimesinceshedclimbedoutofthe
carandlimpedintothedormwiththebloodwetonherlegs,helooked
likearefugee,likeaghost.Theroomtheywereinthecourtroom
seemedtohavegrownuparoundthem,walls,windows,benches,lights,
andradiatorsalreadyinplace,alongwiththejudge,theAmericanflag,
andthereadymadespectators.Itwashot.Peoplecoughedintotheirfists
andshuffledtheirfeet,everysoundmagnified.Thejudgepresided,his
armslikebonestwirledinabag,hiseyessearchingandopaqueashe
peeredoverthetopofhisreadingglasses.
ChinaslawyerdidntlikeJeremyslawyer,thatmuchwasevident,and
thestateprosecutordidntlikeanybody.ShewatchedhimJeremy,only
himasthereportersheldtheircollectivebreathandthejudgereadoff
thechargesandhermotherbowedherheadandsobbedintothebucket
ofherhands.AndJeremywaswatchingher,too,hiseyeslockedonhers
asifhedefiedthemall,asifnothingmatteredintheworldbuther,and
whenthejudgesaidFirstdegreemurderandMurderbyabuseor
neglectheneverflinched.
ShesenthimanotethatdayIloveyou,willalwaysloveyouno
matterwhat,MorethanMoonandinthehallway,afterward,while
theirlawyersfendedoffthereportersandthebailiffstuggedimpatiently
atthem,theyhadaminute,justaminute,tothemselves.Whatdidyou
tellthem?hewhispered.Hisvoicewasarasp,almostagrowl;she
lookedathim,inchesaway,andhardlyrecognizedhim.
Itoldthemitwasdead.

MylawyerMrs.Teagues?shesaystheyresayingitwasalivewhen
we,whenweputitinthebag.Hisfacewascomposed,buthiseyes
weredartinglikeinsectstrappedinsidehishead.
Itwasdead.
Itlookeddead,hesaid,andalreadyhewaspullingawayfromherand
somecallousshitwithacamerakeptannihilatingthemwithflashafter
flashoflight,andwecertainlydidntImean,wedidntslapitor
anythingtogetitbreathing....
Andthenthelastthinghesaidtoher,justastheywerepulledapart,and
itwasnothingshewantedtohear,nothingthathadanyloveinit,oreven
thehintoflove:Youtoldmetogetridofit.
Therewasnoelaboratenamefortheplacewheretheywerekeepinghim.
ItwasknownasDrumHillPrison,period.Noreformmindednotions
here,noverbalgesturestowardrehabilitationorbehaviormodification,
nobenefactors,mayors,orrolemodelstolendtheplacetheirfamily
names,butthenwhoinhisrightmindwouldwantaprisonnamedafter
himanyway?Atleasttheykepthimseparatedfromtheotherprisoners,
thegangbangersanddopedealersandsexualpredatorsandthelike.He
wasnolongerafreshmanatBrown,notofficially,buthehadhisbooks
andhiscoursenotesandhetriedtokeepupasbesthecould.Still,when
thescreamsechoedthroughthecellblockatnightandthewallsdripped
withtheaccumulatedbreathofeightandahalfthousandterminally
angrysociopaths,hehadtoadmititwasntthesortofcollegeexperience
hedbargainedfor.

Andwhathadhedonetodeserveit?Hestillcouldntunderstand.That
thingintheDumpsterandherefusedtocallithuman,letaloneababy
wasnobodysbusinessbuthisandChinas.Thatswhathedtoldhis
attorney,Mrs.Teagues,andhismotherandherboyfriend,Howard,and
hedtoldthemoverandoveragain:Ididntdoanythingwrong.Evenif
itwasalive,anditwas,heknewinhisheartthatitwas,evenbeforethe
stateprosecutorpresentedevidenceofbluntforcetraumaanddeathby
asphyxiationandexposure,itdidntmatter,orshouldnthavemattered.
Therewasnobaby.Therewasnothingbutamistake,amistakeclothed
inbloodandmucus.Whenhereallythoughtaboutit,thoughtitthrough
onitsmeritsanddissectedallhismotherspatheticargumentsabout
wherehedbetodayifshedfeltashedidwhenshewaspregnant
herself,hehardenedlikearock,likesandturningtostoneunderallthe
pressuretheplanetcanbringtobear.Anotherunwantedchildinan
overpopulatedworld?Theyshouldhavegivenhimamedal.
ItwastheendofJanuarybeforebailwassetthreehundredandfifty
thousanddollarshismotherdidnthaveandhewasreleasedtohouse
arrest.Heworeaplasticankletthatsetoffanalarmifhewentoutthe
door,andsodidshe,sodidChina,imprisonedlikesomefairytale
princessatherparentshouse.Atfirst,shecalledhimeveryday,but
mostlywhatshedidwascryIwanttoseeit,shesobbed.Iwantto
seeourdaughtersgrave.Thatfrozehiminside.Hetriedtopictureher
hernow,China,theloveofhislifeandhecouldnt.Whatdidshe
looklike?Whatwasherfacelike,hernose,herhair,hereyesandbreasts
andtheslitbetweenherlegs?Hedrewablank.Therewasnowayto
summonherthewaysheusedtobeoreventhewayshewasincourt,
becauseallhecouldrememberwasthethingthathadcomeoutofher,
fourlimbsandtheequipmentofafemale,shouldersrigidandeyesshut
tight,asifshewereamummyinatomb...andthebreath,the

shudderinglonggaspingrattleofabreathhecouldfeelringinginsideher
evenastheblackplasticbagclosedoverherfaceandthelidofthe
Dumpsteropenedlikeamouth.
Hewasintheden,watchingbasketball,adrinkinhishand(7Upmixed
withJackDanielsinaceramicmug,sonoonewouldknowhewas
gettingshitfacedattwooclockonaSundayafternoon),whenthephone
rang.ItwasSarahTeagues.Listen,Jeremy,shesaidinhercrisp,
equitabletones,IthoughtyououghttoknowtheBerkowitzesare
filingamotiontohavethecaseagainstChinadropped.
Hismothersvoiceontheportable,tooloud,ablastofamplifiedbreath
andstatic:Onwhatgrounds?
Sheneversawthebaby,thatswhattheyresaying.Shethoughtshehad
amiscarriage.
Yeah,right,hismothersaid.
SarahTeagueswasrightthere,hervoiceasclearandpresentashis
mothers.JeremystheonethatthrewitintheDumpster,andtheyre
sayingheactedalone.Shetookapolygraphtestdaybeforeyesterday.
Hecouldfeelhisheartpoundinglikeitusedtowhenheploddedupthat
lastagonizingridgebehindtheschoolwiththecrosscountryteam,his
legssapped,nomorebreathleftinhisbody.Hedidntsayaword.
Didntevenbreathe.
Shesgoingtotestifyagainsthim.

Outsidewastheworld,puddlesoficeclingingtothelawnunderaweak
afternoonsun,allthetreesstrippedbare,thegrassdead,theazaleaunder
thewindowreducedtoanarmloadofdeadbrowntwigs.Shewouldnt
havewantedtogoouttodayanyway.Thiswasthetimeofyearshehated
most,thelongintervalbetweentheholidaysandspringbreak,when
nothinggrewandnothingchangeditdidntevenseemtosnowmuch
anymore.Whatwasoutthereforheranyway?Theywouldntlethersee
Jeremy,wouldntevenlethertalktohimonthephoneorwritehim
anymore,andshewouldntbeabletoshowherfaceatthemalloreven
themovietheatrewithoutsomebodyshoutingouthernameasifshe
wereafreak,asifshewereanotherMonicaLewinskyorHeidiFleiss.
ShewasntChinaBerkowitz,honorstudent,notanymoreshewasthe
punchlinetoajoke,afootnotetohistory.
Shewouldntmindgoingforadrive,thoughthatwassomethingshe
missed,justfollowingthecurvesouttothereservoirtowatchtheway
theicecuppedtheshore,oruptotheturnoutonRoute9tolookoutover
theriverwhereitoozedthroughthemountainsinashimmeringcoilof
light.Ortotakeawalkinthewoods,justthat.Shewasinherroom,on
herbed,postersofbandsshedoutgrownstaringdownfromthewalls,
herhighschoolbooksontwoshelvesinthecorner,theclosetdoorflung
openonalltheclothesshedoncewantedsodesperatelyshecouldhave
diedforeachindividualpairofbootsorthecashmeresweatersthatfelt
sogoodagainstherskin.Atthebottomofherleftleg,downthereatthe
footofthebed,wastheankletsheworenow,theplasticankletwiththe
transmitterinside,nodifferent,shesupposed,thanthecollarstheyputon
wolvestotrackthemacrossallthosemilesofbarrentundraorthebears
sleepingintheirdens.Exceptthathershadanalarmonit.

Foralongwhileshejustlaytheregazingoutthewindow,watchingthe
rinsedoutsunslipdownintotheskythathadnomorecolorinitthana
TVtunedtoanunsubscribedchannel,andthenshefoundherself
picturingthingsthewaytheywereaneonago,wheneverythingwas
green.Shesawtheazaleabushinbloom,theleavesknifingoutofthe
trees,butterfliesorweretheycabbagemoths?hoveringoverthe
flowers.Deepgreen.Thatwasthecoloroftheworld.Andshewas
rememberinganight,summerbeforelast,justaftersheandJeremy
startedgoingtogether,thecricketsthrumming,theairthickwith
humidity,andhimsingingalongwiththecarradio,hisvoicesosweet
andpureitwasasifhedwrittenthesonghimself,justforher.And
whentheygottowheretheyweregoing,attheendofthatdarklane
overhungwithtrees,toaplacewhereitwasprivateandhushedandthe
nightfellinonitselfasifitcouldntsupporttheweightofthestars,he
wasasnervousasshewas.Shemovedintohisarmsandtheykissed,his
lipsgropingforhersinthedark,hisfingerstremblingoverthethin
yieldingsilkofherblouse.HewasJeremy.Hewastheloveofherlife.
Andsheclosedhereyesandclungtohimasifthatwereallthat
mattered.