Danny had never believed Carly.
Despite everything she had said to him, he was sure that he'd Done Something Wrong. And so, if she would only tell him what it was, or if he could figure it out for himself, he might be able to Make Everything Right again. He didn't understand why she wouldn't tell him what the Something was, unless for some perverse reason she didn't want it to be Made Right.
This was, he knew, why she refused to have any contact with him. And, when he came upon her in the park, he knew he had only one lever to keep her from brushing him off. He hated to use it, but he did, figuring that if he could make everything right again it would be the best for both of them.
So, he offered to buy her dinner. And she accepted.
Danny watched Carly as they walked along the narrow street between the dingy tenements. She had her hands in the pockets of her pea coat, her head tilted as she trudged so her hair fell forward and hid her face.
Her coat was the same one she'd been wearing when he'd met her a month before. The black jeans and worn work boots were the same, too. The hair was a little longer and the clothes were a little dirtier, that was all. He'd managed to prevail upon her to borrow a pair of gloves and a hat when the weather had started to get colder, but she'd left them behind when she'd moved out. She hadn't taken anything that she hadn't brought with her, which was very little indeed.
He'd never mentioned it, but he'd always thought her haircut was wrong for her. Her hair was thick and dark, cut in bangs which nearly hid her rather fierce eyebrows, and fell straight to her shoulders on either side of her face. It looked like a heavy plush theater curtain which had opened only halfway and then got stuck. She apparently knew he felt this way, because her compromise was to tie it back when they had sex.
Of course, the real mystery was why she bothered to hide her face at all, since it never revealed anything anyway.
Danny knew it would be wrong to try to take Carly to anyplace fancy. Trying to turn this simple dinner into a big event would only drive her away, or freeze her up. And, in any case, he didn't have that much money. So, they went to the small, grimy diner where they had eaten many of their meals when they'd been together.
He didn't bother to tell her to order whatever she wanted, he knew what she'd get. The Burger Special was the best deal: a big burger, fries, lettuce, tomato and a couple of onion rings for under three dollars. So, she ordered that, without even looking at the menu, and he ordered the same thing. He also ordered a soda, but she didn't, apparently thinking to fill her stomach while having the least impact on his finances. He could certainly have afforded to buy her a soda, but he didn't say anything.
Danny was sure that Carly still cared about him, but something had convinced her that she should stay away from him. Maybe something in her past. She had stopped speaking about her past fairly early in the relationship, when she'd realized that she couldn't lie about it well enough to fool him. He'd never mentioned this, sure that at some point they would pass some boundary of trust and it would all come pouring out, the revelations all the more meaningful for being given freely.
Danny was sure that Carly felt nothing but contempt for him. There was obviously no trust, no affection, no friendship. She needed food now, as she had needed shelter when they'd first met. That was all it was, and he'd better get used to the idea and stop making himself miserable.
Danny remembered hearing something about the ability to believe in two mutually exclusive ideas at the same time. It was either the sign of a sophisticated intelligence, or it was a symptom of psychosis. He was trying to remember which when the food arrived.
Making conversation was arduous. When Carly and Danny had first met each other, it hadn't been unusual for them to spend four or five hours talking without a break. The night they'd met, in a local bar called The Quarter, they'd started talking about movies and then, two hours later, when the band had started to play, they'd stopped talking and listened. Then, as soon as the encore was over, Danny had leaned forward eagerly and finished the point he'd been making.
Then, as the band started its second set and the raid started, they ran for the rear exit together, suddenly holding hands.
She stayed with him for several days before anything physical happened between them. Danny was later to think that sex was the beginning of the end. As they sat now, attempting to find anything to talk about, Danny decided that sex was the whole problem between men and women. This idea could easily have warped his whole future, if he'd had one. Had she decided to sleep with him out of a genuine emotion? Or was it that she'd figured there was a limit to how long he'd let her stay in his apartment otherwise? In fact, could consent be given freely in a situation where one person depends on the other for something as basic as food or shelter?
Topics discussed during dinner included:
Dinner was so tense that Carly declined to have any coffee or dessert, though he was sure she was desperate for caffeine. So then, when they parted in front of the restaurant, after she defiantly told him that she was going to the protest about the pirate radio station, Danny suddenly really wanted to know where she was staying. He told himself that he wouldn't have been so curious if she hadn't made such a mystery of it. So, he waited until she got to the corner and then he started to follow her.
For a while, she just walked up one block and down the next, with no apparent destination. Was she trying to lose him? Did she know he was following her?
After some thought, he decided not. For one thing, she never sped up or slowed down, and she never looked around. No, she was just killing time. Maybe she was staying somewhere but she didn't have a key, and had to wait for the person she was staying with to get home.
He thought about this and rejected it as well. There was no pattern to this, she was just wandering.
Finally, as he began to be sure that she didn't have anyplace to stay, that she preferred living on the streets to living with him, a huge hand landed on his shoulder. He stopped and turned, looking up at a tall, handsome man wearing a dark suit and a trench coat.
"Carly Stein must be quite a dog," the man murmured, "because it looks to me like she's wagging two tails. Now, why don't we step into this convenient alley and talk this over–"
"Very entertaining, Ms. Stein," the tall man said,
getting to his feet. "But this has gone on long enough. Why don't
we . . ." His eyes rolled up and the tiny room seemed to
shake as he thudded to the floor.
"Well, that's a relief," their host said, poking him with his toe. "I was starting to think I hadn't given him the right mug after all."