Specimen Days

"We're all freaked out these days."

"I hope that's it. I hope it's about us not being able to see what's there."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning, I hope there's something there to see. I hope it's not just… randomness. Chaos."

"It's not."

She looked at him, steadily and hard. For a moment she thought, What I'm going to do is have another child and raise him far away from all this, in a house in the mountains, by an unpolluted stream where unmutated fish still swim, where we'll have books and no television, and I'll do the best I can with the boredom and racism, I'll manage, I won't be sitting on some bar stool every night, I'll stay home and read to the kid, and during the days I'll work in the local clinic or be a high school counselor or learn to knit sweaters and sell them in fucking crafts fairs. She thought, If you had any sense, Pete Ashberry, you'd want that, too. You'd admit that we're emigrants, that our native land is too barren for us, too hard; that what we should really and truly do is buy a good reliable used car and drive out into the continent and see what we can find for ourselves.

"I'm sure you're right," she said.

"You did a good job. You did the best anybody could have done. You couldn't have saved this kid."

And sounded white over the phone
And let him die
And am a cracked vessel, and am an empty cup

"We'll never know that, will we?" she said.

"Give yourself a break."

"Trying."

"Would it piss you off if I gave you a little advice?"

"That would depend on the advice."

"Don't mix any of this up with what happened to your own kid."

She nodded, tapped her chin with her forefinger. Probably stupid to have told Pete about Luke. You lost track, working with someone every day. You told them things. You had sex with them in the ladies' room.

She said, "You don't have some kind of theory going on about me, do you, Pete?"

"No way."

A silence caught and held. Had she embarrassed him? Had she shamed him? Okay, then, give him something. He's a good man; he cares about you.

She said, "I didn't take him to another doctor."

"You had no reason to."

"We didn't have any money. We had shit for insurance."

"And a doctor told you it was gas. Kids have strange little aches and pains all the time. Gas was a reasonable diagnosis."

"The wrong one." "You didn't know that."

/ suspected it. I had a feeling. I decided to believe the doctor. I told myself, kids have strange little aches and pains all the time.

"No," she said. "I didn't."

"So give yourself a break. Can you do that?"

A nick in his heart. He crawled into bed with Daryl and me, said he was thirstier than hed ever been, and died. Right there.

"Sure," she said. "I can do that."

* * *

The food came. They ate, talked about other things, threw the empty containers out. Pete went back to his office. Cat hung around a little longer, for no good reason. It was all cleanup now, it was investigation; the deranged boys were dead, and the work of finding out who they'd been would fall to others. She dialed Simon's number. He'd called three times since the event, left messages. He'd believe her when she'd tell him she'd been too busy to call him back, though of course it would be a lie. She was the least busy person on the premises. She'd put off talking to Simon (admit it) because she hadn't felt up to it, hadn't felt like being tough and passionate and wised-up.

Amelia put her straight through.

"Cat. God, I've been worried."

"Sorry I couldn't call earlier. It's crazy here."

"Can you get out of there now?"

"Yes. Meet me at your place, okay? Just give me a drink and put me to bed."

"You got it. I can get out of here in about forty-five minutes."

Forty-five minutes was good time for Simon. Who knew what fluctuations in the futures needed his immediate attention?

"I'll come by around nine, then."

"Good. You okay?"

"Relatively."

"Good. See you at nine."

She said good-night to Pete and went out into the streets. She'd wander a while among the terrorized citizenry, until Simon could extricate himself from the particulars of whatever deal he was dealing.