His stupidity was a curse, one that's always going to be with me, Paula. And I'm sorry, but I can't say any more."
“I know," she said, moving her hand to the safety of her lap. ''And I also know that I want things right, and I want them back to where they were. I'm going to have to buck up and do what it takes to stay at the Chronicle , even if it means having a smile on my face when Rollie asks me to rewrite the school lunch menus for the week.”
I turned to her and said, ''And you want things back to where they were with us, before June."
She nodded. "For now, Lewis. For now. Give me some time to get things back and we'll see. But in the meantime, well, I'm going to consider your house a dangerous place to be. For a while, other neutral spots are okay, and I hope you understand, Lewis. It just has to be this way."
I didn’t want to get into a fight or a quarrel or a discussion that was laden with words such as "commitments" or "feelings" or whatever, so instead I touched her hand again and I said, "You should probably get back in, do that story about the liquor store robbery, Paula. Rollie's no doubt wondering if any of his favorite brands were taken."
I was rewarded with a smile and she said, "You're probably right.'
"I am right. And I'm sorry about shutting your terminal off.”
She shrugged. "That's all right. I was only into the second sentence." She got up, started to turn and said quietly, ''And I'm sorry I didn't visit you, Lewis. As mad as I was, I should have visited you when you were sick."
As she started to walk across the closely trimmed grass, I called out to her. She turned and I said, "I read your story the other day, about the diver. You know, there's not one mention in there about how his body was recovered."
"Yeah, I know," she said, her hands in the front pockets of short denim skirt. "I wrote it that way on purpose."
"Thanks," I said. "I like my privacy."
"So I've noticed." She smiled and went back to her office. I sat on the park bench and looked over at the gray Chevrolet with the woman and three or four screaming kids. I guessed I was doing better than most. I sat out in the sun, not feeling particularly or sad, just feeling all right, in knowing what was going on. A holdover from my old job. I hated secrets. And I remembered what I had learned down in the basement of the Chronicle , and I whispered, "Felix, I got you."
But I was in no hurry to move. I liked the feeling of the sun on my face, though I had one more place to visit before the day was over.
Chapter Six
In New Hampshire there are only a handful of communities large enough to be called cities, which is nice if you like to live in a state that's holding on-hand and fist-to its rural traditions and backgrounds, but which isn't so nice if you like to live in a state that's on the cutting edge. Which isn't to say that New Hampshire relies on horses to deliver its rural mail or doesn't have its share of the latest high-tech industries: it's just that some of our newest immigrants get a shock when they arrive here and find out that in many towns the agricultural fair is the biggest cultural event of the year. These people do one of two things: they move back to where they came from, or they move to one of the few cities in the state and try to adjust the best way they know how.
New Hampshire's largest city is Manchester, which was named --- like so many of the places in the state --- after a town in Old England. To get to Manchester from Tyler takes about an hour, going west on Route 51, which then transforms itself into Route 101 just outside of Exonia, the county seat. The road is two-lane for most of the way and is quite dangerous, with accidents on it every week and a fatality or two at least once a month. The road is twisting and the speed limit is fifty miles per hour and almost everyone traveling on the road exceeds the limit by about ten miles.
Manchester was built up around the banks of the Merrimack River,
“I know," she said, moving her hand to the safety of her lap. ''And I also know that I want things right, and I want them back to where they were. I'm going to have to buck up and do what it takes to stay at the Chronicle , even if it means having a smile on my face when Rollie asks me to rewrite the school lunch menus for the week.”
I turned to her and said, ''And you want things back to where they were with us, before June."
She nodded. "For now, Lewis. For now. Give me some time to get things back and we'll see. But in the meantime, well, I'm going to consider your house a dangerous place to be. For a while, other neutral spots are okay, and I hope you understand, Lewis. It just has to be this way."
I didn’t want to get into a fight or a quarrel or a discussion that was laden with words such as "commitments" or "feelings" or whatever, so instead I touched her hand again and I said, "You should probably get back in, do that story about the liquor store robbery, Paula. Rollie's no doubt wondering if any of his favorite brands were taken."
I was rewarded with a smile and she said, "You're probably right.'
"I am right. And I'm sorry about shutting your terminal off.”
She shrugged. "That's all right. I was only into the second sentence." She got up, started to turn and said quietly, ''And I'm sorry I didn't visit you, Lewis. As mad as I was, I should have visited you when you were sick."
As she started to walk across the closely trimmed grass, I called out to her. She turned and I said, "I read your story the other day, about the diver. You know, there's not one mention in there about how his body was recovered."
"Yeah, I know," she said, her hands in the front pockets of short denim skirt. "I wrote it that way on purpose."
"Thanks," I said. "I like my privacy."
"So I've noticed." She smiled and went back to her office. I sat on the park bench and looked over at the gray Chevrolet with the woman and three or four screaming kids. I guessed I was doing better than most. I sat out in the sun, not feeling particularly or sad, just feeling all right, in knowing what was going on. A holdover from my old job. I hated secrets. And I remembered what I had learned down in the basement of the Chronicle , and I whispered, "Felix, I got you."
But I was in no hurry to move. I liked the feeling of the sun on my face, though I had one more place to visit before the day was over.
Chapter Six
In New Hampshire there are only a handful of communities large enough to be called cities, which is nice if you like to live in a state that's holding on-hand and fist-to its rural traditions and backgrounds, but which isn't so nice if you like to live in a state that's on the cutting edge. Which isn't to say that New Hampshire relies on horses to deliver its rural mail or doesn't have its share of the latest high-tech industries: it's just that some of our newest immigrants get a shock when they arrive here and find out that in many towns the agricultural fair is the biggest cultural event of the year. These people do one of two things: they move back to where they came from, or they move to one of the few cities in the state and try to adjust the best way they know how.
New Hampshire's largest city is Manchester, which was named --- like so many of the places in the state --- after a town in Old England. To get to Manchester from Tyler takes about an hour, going west on Route 51, which then transforms itself into Route 101 just outside of Exonia, the county seat. The road is two-lane for most of the way and is quite dangerous, with accidents on it every week and a fatality or two at least once a month. The road is twisting and the speed limit is fifty miles per hour and almost everyone traveling on the road exceeds the limit by about ten miles.
Manchester was built up around the banks of the Merrimack River,
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