OCR Text |
Show 356 had been staged in case Floyd was listening through a wall and that she might come down to the basement after Floyd had gone to bed-he remembered they kept different hours-and tell him all was forgiven. While he waited he returned to his plans. He was aware that the full impact of being excommunicated hadn't hit him yet. It was similar, he suspected, to the delayed realization that you had lost a leg or worse. The first thing, of course, was to find a job. He would find a job tomorrow and a place to live temporarily so as not to spend one more night than he had to crowding Floyd's ping-pong table. He would even invite Gloriana over once or twice, if she thought she could spare the time, before he told her it was obviously all over. Most of all he needed a place with plenty of light where he could set up his easel. He had a lot of lost ground to make up and he was anxious to see what had happened to his intuitive processes while he had been giving his technique a rest. He would be more careful in selecting his friends this time too. He had no idea where Noel was, or Yvonne, and he had no intention of finding out. He was almost sorry that he knew Simon and Harry were still around and that he might run into them, though he had no intention of coming close to the UCLA campus. He would hold off making friends until he had a better idea of what he was going to do with a redefined life. You did not resume continuity by pretending that nothing had broken. You resumed it by acknowledging disaster and then picking up what pieces remained and going on without the pieces that were lost. If you did it with dignity no one would snicker as they saw you walk away. You survived humiliation by becoming stronger than your enemies. They would never again push you naked out the door and slam it behind you. He was a little irritated that Gloriana hadn't come downstairs even to say goodnight. He had not heard footsteps for some time, and squinting |