A Nest of Nightmares

Later, in the house they no longer officially lived in, the house largely stripped of furniture and soon to go on the market, they shared a bottle of plum brandy that had been left behind, unwanted or unnoticed, in a cabinet.

All they could think of was Gonzo. The memory of the dog still made Susie break out in fresh tears from time to time, but Ellis was through with his crying. He thought about Gonzo deliberately, testing himself, probing at the sore memory as if it were a wound just starting to heal.

‘I loved that dog more than anything,’ he mused aloud. ‘Much more than I care for most people. I’d have given up anything for that dog.’

‘You!’ She was shocked out of her tears. ‘You think you were the only one? How about me? Don’t you know how I loved him? He was just like a child to me – the child you didn’t want.’

He remembered then just why they had taken Gonzo, the dog that had become so much a part of their lives that it was hard to remember a time without him.

Ellis had been laid off, bringing in $68 a week in unemployment while he looked for another job. She was making $125 a week as a receptionist, and complaining bitterly about having to work. They were quarrelling a lot – not always about money – and the subject of divorce had come up more than once.

Then Susie had got pregnant. Worse – she wanted to quit her job and have the baby. It would make them a family. It would keep the marriage together. On $68 a week.

Ellis had, after more hair-raising scenes and threats than he cared to remember, finally convinced her to have an abortion.

Three days after the abortion, while she was still lying in bed weeping and using up her sick leave, Ellis had gone to the pound and picked out the cutest puppy he could find.

It had been intended as a gift to cheer his wife up. He hadn’t expected how much he would come to love the flippantly named Gonzo, how important the dog would become to both of them.

‘I should never have let you make me have that abortion,’ Susie said. ‘If I’d had a baby I’d still have it – and we might not even be getting divorced. Somebody else would have taken Gonzo from the pound and he’d still be al-l-l-l-l-live.’ She burst into tears yet again.

He moved across the couch to comfort her. Just then, he would have done anything to get Gonzo back. But that was one thing he could not do. He felt very close to Susie, knowing that she was feeling the same sorrow and loss that he felt. Suddenly he wanted her, more than he had in a very long time.

He began unbuttoning her blouse, consoling her with his flesh. She forgot her tears and began responding to his urgency.

Sprawled across the couch she suddenly whispered, ‘I don’t have anything – I stopped taking the pill when I moved out.’

‘It doesn’t matter,’ he said recklessly, suddenly seeing the answer to their irreplaceable loss. ‘I love you; I want to be with you. We were crazy to think about a divorce.’

‘We’ll start all over again,’ she murmured happily.

‘We’ll have a baby,’ he said. ‘We’ll have a baby as we should have before. We’ll start it right now.’

One photograph angered him the most. It showed Susie with little Jessica on her lap, as smug as she could be about having the child all to herself. Doling out the minutes to him only when it pleased her, while she could be with Jessica whenever she wanted.

‘Of course, if you think you’ve got a case,’ his lawyer had said. ‘But I’d better warn you – the court nearly always lets the child stay with the mother, unless we can provide some compelling reason why not.’

He would find a compelling reason. Ellis flipped through the photographs again. All harmless. The first detective hadn’t been able to get anything on her. She was keeping clean – at least until the divorce was final. But that careful morality wouldn’t last long – she’d soon be sleeping around. He would keep a detective on her – a really good one, this time – until he had the proof he needed to get his child away from her.

He stared at the photograph. He wouldn’t let that bitch get the better of him.

The house, community property, would be sold. They each had a car and their personal belongings, and the rest of the property had been divided up after many arguments and consultations with both lawyers. Neither was entirely happy about the result, but it was fair, they agreed, a fair division of property.

But how could you divide a child? You couldn’t. Somebody had her, and somebody didn’t. Unless nobody had her.

He looked across the room at his gun rack and crumpled the photograph in his fist.

FLYING TO BYZANTIUM

The steady noise and pressurized atmosphere inside the plane made everything seem slightly unreal. Was she really going back to Texas?

She thought of flat, coastal plains, mosquitoes whining in the humid night air, dirty white plumes of smoke rising from industrial stacks, her mother’s house, and the dreary brightness of the Woolco, and a familiar misery possessed her.