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Show •170 around me with affection. "What are you talking about?" Alice said. She suspected something but I didn't care. "My father. Life. The wide universe. The way things are, in short." Yes. Yes. For once I felt I had it all under my thumb: yin and yang all spiralled into one spinning particolored ball-life and death, meaning and absurdity, father and son (and father again), all the mysteries. All of it grown together in my feverish head, wrapped up tight as a cabbage. I looked Alice straight on because I wanted to make her a gift of it, but I came up short against her china-doll eyes, those narrow lips, her suspicions. "Ah fuck, what's the use." I came down from my metaphysical flight. "How long are you and Jacob going to stay?" "I don't know." "What about you, Jacob?" He chased one of her rubbery meatballs around his plate. "Let's see: we still have some legal paperwork to be done for the house, and there are the pieces of sculpture Adam left behind-there must be three or four dozen on shelves in the attic and in the basement, and all those in art galleries on the coast. We'll have to figure out what to do about all that." "We don't want to leave until everything's straightened |
