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Show Woodworth/208 His whole presence seems to fill the apartment, the room, seeping from the bed until the air hangs with the heaviness of his sleeping, the distorted squint of his eye. If he comes to dinner. She imagines him sitting in Jake's place, and it makes her feel crowded, cramped, uneasy. Is this Jake? This isn't Jake. Why did you bring him here? Why, Marty, why? She can't answer. Why, Jake, why? He doesn't answer- He never answered. Ever since the time Ruth kicked him, he hasn't answered. Not her questions, not any questions. Why drugs? Marty would ask him. Why not? he would say. Smiling. Smiling just like Gary on the staircase. I don't give a damn what you do. So she would take them, too. Bring them to him. So he wouldn't leave her behind. But why, Jake? He would never answer. There is no answer. He never told me. It was an accident then. But Jake wasn't dumb like that. Was he? Why, Marty, why? The answer was...she knows it. She rolls stiffly on her back. A different pain than her foot, a different pain inside than out. Licks her lips. Could have been cut. Why? Because she did it. Because it was her fault. Really, in the end. Because she must have known what she was doing. She did last night. Manipulative. No. Think about something else. About going to work. About Megan coming home. Her mind won't focus. She must have been taunting him. Because it was true, wasn't it, that she really did want him, really did love him. But it should be different, not like that. |
