dclegg.purity-第8部分

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　〃You　ever　up　for　tennis？〃　Jimmy　asked。
　〃Not　really。〃
　〃I　can　teach　you　if　you　like。　It　would　be　fun　to　play　a　doubles　match　one　day。　Early；　before　it's　too　hot。　You；　me；　Jenna；　and　maybe　you　could　find　a　friend　to　bring。　We　could　have　a　good　match。　It's　always　fun　to　play　doubles；〃
　Jimmy　said。　Owen　noticed　the　bination　of　arrogance　and　nonchalance；　as　if　none　of　this　mattered。　Even　this　small　talk　was　something　to　fill　some　empty　space。　Jimmy　probably　screwed　Jenna　on　a　nightly　basis。　But　he　never　thought　about　Owen；　or　Owen　and　Jenna。　He　probably　lived　in　the　moment。
　pletely。
　〃Saturday　should　be　fun；〃　Jimmy　said；　wiping　the　last　of　the　spray　from　his　shoulders　as　he　pushed　his　feet　into　the　cheapest　sneakers　that　Owen　had　ever　seen。　〃You　bringing　a　date？〃
　Owen　glanced　up。　〃Her　birthday？〃
　〃Yeah；　you　know；　the　whole　crowd's　ing　from　the　Cape；　and　then　we'll　just　do　tequila　shots　til　dawn。　You　got　a　girl　off…island？〃
　Owen　began　to　lie；　just　to　fill　that　emptiness　between　them。　Yes；　he　had　a　girl。　Yes；　he　was　excited　about　Jenna's　birthday　party；　even　though　he　had　not　been　invited　to　it。　Yes；　he　was　considering　his　options　as　to　which　colleges　he　was　looking　into　…　Middlebury　looked　promising；　he　didn't　think　he　had　quite　the　grades　for　Harvard；　but　his　uncle　had　been　a　Dean　at　Middlebury；　and　yes；　they　could　all　go　skiing　in　the　winter　up　there　in　some　distant　holiday。
　The　whole　time；　Jimmy　reached　into　his　shaving　kit；　went　over　to　shave　at　the　mirror；　and　then　applied　some　kind　of　lotion　to　his　face。　He　finished　it　off　with　a　spritz　of　the　most　obnoxious　cologne　that　Owen　had　ever　smelled。　While　they　small…talked　it；　Owen　knew；　standing　there　in　the　diminishing　steam　of　the　changing　room；　he　knew。
　Owen　knew　just　by　standing　there　with　Jimmy　in　the　shimmering　mist。
　Jimmy　had　a　weakness。
　He　began　spending　time；　after　that；　thinking　about　that　weakness。
　Thinking　about　how　he　could　get　Jenna　back。
　3
　Owen's　shift　at　the　Salty　Dog　began　at　three　and　lasted　until　eleven；　six　days　a　week。　He　emerged　sweaty　and　stinking　of　grease；　because　half　his　job　was　cleaning　out　the　fryers　and　grease　pits　at　the　end　of　the　night；　and　when　he　got　off　shift　in　early　July　…　it　was　nearly　two　a。m。　…　he　went　down　to　the　jetty　to　stare　out　at　the　early　morning　mist　of　the　Sound；　smoke　some　cigarettes；　and　chill。
　He　didn't　turn　around　when　he　heard　the　footsteps　ing　up　behind　him。
　〃Mooncalf。〃
　〃Hey　Jimmy。〃
　〃Got　a　cig？〃
　〃Take　one；〃　Owen　tossed　a　cigarette　back。
　〃Thanks。　I　guess　you　want　to　be　alone。〃
　〃Didn't　know　you　smoked。〃
　〃I　don't。　Not　when　anyone　looks；　anyway。〃
　〃That's　nice。　Anything　else　you　do　when　no　one's　looking？〃
　〃If　I　told；　you'd　know　my　secrets。〃
　〃How's　Jenna？〃
　〃She's　okay。　She　fell　asleep　early。　I　just　needed　to　wander　a　little。　How's　the　job？〃
　〃Good。　You　can　smell　it　on　me。　You　wander　late。　It's　almost　morning。〃
　〃In　Manhattan；　I　wander　at　all　hours。　I　like　this　time　of　night。　I　kind　of　miss　work。　I　used　to　work　summers　in　one　of　my　dad's　stores。　It　was　fun　sometimes。〃
　〃Seems　like　more　fun　to　run　around　the　island　all　summer。　Like　you　two。〃
　〃It　gets　old。　I　take　that　back。　Yeah；　it's　fun。　I　guess　you　want　to　be　left　alone。〃
　〃You　guessed　right；〃　Owen　said；　cricking　his　neck　to　the　left　a　bit。
　〃Your　neck　hurt？〃
　〃It　gets　stiff。　Leaning　over　a　mop　half　the　time。　On　my　knees　cleaning　up　all　kinds　of　shit。〃
　〃Here；〃　Jimmy　said；　and　Owen　felt　hands　at　the　back　of　his　neck；　gently　massaging。　〃Better？〃
　Owen　let　him　continue。　〃This　fog　depresses　me。〃
　〃I　think　it's　peaceful。〃
　〃You　would。〃
　〃Mooncalf；　you　hate　me；　don't　you？〃
　〃Not　really。〃
　〃How　does　this　feel？〃　Jimmy　pressed　his　thumbs　into　Owen's　shoulders。
　〃Oh　yeah；〃　Owen　said。　〃Right　there。〃
　4
　Before　dawn；　he　had　gone　to　the　pond。　He　knelt　down　beside　it；　and　reached　down　among　the　algae　and　slimy　rocks　until　he　found　it。
　He　drew　the　statue　up；　and　set　it　down　on　the　wet　grass。
　〃I　guess　you're　just　made　up；〃　he　said　aloud。　〃I　guess　I'm　just　a　screwed　up　guy　who　made　you　up。　Maybe　when　I　was　twelve　I　was　warped。　But　you're　just　some　cheap　souvenir　someone　lost。　No　one　believes　in　gods。〃
　But　still；　the　itchy　thought　touched　him　somewhere　between　his　eyes　and　scalp　…　he　could　practically　feel　the　fire　crawling　on　him。
　But　if　you're　not。
　If　you're　real。
　I'll　do　what　needs　to　be　done。
　5
　Mrs。　M；　in　her　own　words：
　Here's　what　I　thought　of　it　all：　my　daughter　Jenna　had　been　trouble　from　the　day　she　was　born。　She　was　pretty　and　plain　at　the　same　time；　and　I　say　that　as　a　loving　mother。　She　inherited　her　father's　face；　not　much　of　mine；　although　I　guess　she　got　my　eyes。　Lucky　her　…　my　least　favorite　feature　since　my　own　mother　always　told　me　I　had　sad　eyes。　When　Jenna　was　four　years　old；　she　told　me　that　no　man　was　going　to　do　to　her　what　her　Daddy　did　to　me。
　Definitely　wise　beyond　her　years；　but　just　not　special　enough　to　handle　what　life　would　deliver　to　her；　that's　for　damn　sure。
　It　was　her　trust　fund。　It　made　her　trouble。
　Look；　there's　something　that　everyone　pussyfoots　around　but　no　one　ever　talks　about。　That's　money。　Pure　and　simple。　Money。　When　a　girl　has　some；　she　can　be　elevated　to　the　status　of　goddess。　The　most　ordinary　…　even　homely　…　creature　can　bee　ravishing　with　just　a　portfolio　or　a　trust　fund。
　That　island　…　in　summer　…　is　full　of　trust　fund　widows　who　should　by　all　rights　be　considered　blemishes；　but　instead　are　constantly　sought　out　for　parties　and　gatherings　and　literary　events。　For　Jenna；　there's　always　been　money。　And　I've　watched　it　feed　her　in　a　way　that　can't　be　healthy；　but　what　could　I　do？
　She　has　access　to　money。　Lots　of　money。　Money　clothes　her。
　She　was　ruined　because　of　it；　basically。　She　could　never　learn　how　to　survive。　She　could　never　learn　how　to　rely　on　herself　and　her　own　character　to　get　through　a　difficult　or　challenging　situation。
　She　could　always　buy　her　way　out　of　things。
　This　isn't　true　of　me。　I　was　raised　solidly　middle…class。　My　father　had　died　when　I　was　six；　and　my　mother　didn't　have　too　many　options；　not　back　then。　In　many　ways；　I　feel　for　Owen　because　of　this。　His　life　is　a　lot　like　mine　was　as　a　child。　Yes；　there　was　some　inheritance　later　for　me；　but　when　you　spend　most　of　your　childhood　wanting　things　you　never　really　get　over　it。
　And　money　bees　a　prison；　too。　When　you　know　what　it's　like　to　live　without　it；　and　when　it's　within　your　grasp；　then　you　know　what　it's　like　to　not　have　it。
　So；　you　cling　to　it。　Pure　and　simple。　You　hang　on　for　dear　life。
　I　suppose　people　will　say　things　about　my　marriage　to　Frank　that　reflect　this；　but　my　marriage　is　a　different　kettle　of　fish。　We've　got　our　way　of　living；　and　yes；　you　can　assail　it　all　you　want；　but　it　works　for　us　nine　times　out　of　ten；　and　those　times　when　it　doesn't　quite　work；　well；　we　have　places　to　go　where　he　can　live　his　life　and　I　can　live　mine；　and　the　breather　is　well…needed。　On　both　our　parts。
　I'm　not　the　easiest　woman　in　the　world　to　live　with。
　And　he's　no　saint。
　I　sat　down　with　my　little　girl　when　she　was　just　learning　about　sex；　and　I　told　her　that　men　have　different　ways　of　dealing　with　love；　and　usually　it's　through　the　one　part　of　their　body　that　seems　to　cause　others　the　most　damage。
　〃But　it's　just　his　body；〃　I　told　her。　She　cried　over　all　of　this。　She　cried　when　she　found　out　her　father　had　another　woman。　A　mistress。　But　you　have　to　cry　at　first；　don't　you？　To　get　all　those　little　fairy　tales　out　of　your　head　about　how　life　gets　lived；　about　how　there　are　a　few　good　men；　how　some　men　don't　cheat。
　And　it's　not　true。　All　men　cheat；　and　all　women　marry　cheaters；　and　to　not　look　at　that　square　in　the　face　is　like　not　looking　at　the　good　side　of　marriage；　too。
　So　she　cried　off　and　on　for　a　few　years；　and　I　held　her　sometimes；　I　was　cold　to　her　at　times　…　I　knew　she　needed　to　work　this　idea　out　in　her　mind。
　When　she　fell　in　love　for　the　first　time；　she　told　me　that　she　was　grateful　for　what　she'd　had　to　go　through　with　her　father。　〃I　don't　know　why　men　do　what　they　do；〃　she　told　me。
　〃If　you　did；　you'd　have　solved　the　greatest　mystery　of　life；〃　I　said　to　her。
　Or　something　like　that。
　But　for　m