years ago, the little cove where Tenderâs summer house stood. Could he see Tenderâs house. No, that was a roof he could not pick out. All the houses looked like heads buried in the sand. What is this compulsion to see a house, he thought. What he wanted to see, he felt instinctively, was Martha Groves staring up at him, giving a big wave.
They landed in St Johnâs at midday. He watched the woman heâd almost spent the night with as she strode quickly away to meet her husband who had the kids, still with their winterhoods up. No, he hadnât almost spent the night with herâheâd turned the corner on women. He was faithful, as this woman is. Iâm a changed man, he thought, and allowed the cab manager to shepherd him into an orange taxi that drove him downtown to John and Silviaâs where he was still renting that room but not for long.
18
He phoned Martha.
That house, he said. Letâs go look at it.
She couldnât that day as she had to be in town to finish up with a patient who had hip dysplasiaâshe was helping the man with his adductor squeeze. Henry waited for the weekend. He drove her down the shore to Renews and they spent the night in John and Silviaâs summer place. In separate beds. It was freezing. There was a darkness in some of Marthaâs silences, a realization that things could not go on between them because of what had already happened. It was almost misery, is what he saw in her. But there was something brand new too, like the swipe of window wipers refreshing the glass. Her eyes pushed away the darkness and she was with him again. He was ready to give over even though the idea of sleeping together seemed perverse. One thing had led to another which led to the beds and they were both relieved about the beds and their easy independent access to them. I want to be good, Henry said to his own stomach as he undressed and climbed into the sheets.
In the morning they walked over to the cemetery and visitedthe new grave. It looked ugly. Cold and wet and the snow didnât even cover things. The soil had settled and frozen and heaved up again. He was buried in there like an improvised device. They would have to groom it in the spring.
Then they visited Tenderâs house.
The doors were locked and Martha did not have a key. Henry sized up the interior the way Tender trained him to do reconnaissance. The house, from the outside, looked to have good bones. He stepped back and stared at the eaves and the corners of the house were plumb. He fell back into the snow and stared up at this thing that someone he had no connection to had built. The front and back porches, the sills were gone and the porches were falling away from the heart of the house. The electric service cut off. The doors and the porches made it easy to defend from the inside.
Tender wanted to do this place up.
He had ambitions, Henry said.
Iâve been inside.
Youâve walked through it.
I like it.
Henry turned around. To be next to John and Silvia, but I donât know.
He tried to touch her shoulder the way a friend would, a caring person. He thought of the woman on the plane. Someone not sexual. Martha was overwhelmed with what had occurred and what her life was now to become. She needed and enjoyed distraction. Henry tried his best. He was exercising new ways of arranging his limbs. It is possible to be someone else, or the portion of you that doesnât get exercised often. He thought too about that artist and how he should return to her and tell her thatthe way she was falling was not anything like how a soldierâs legs break from under him and soldiers rarely are killed in open fire. Soldiers are blown apart, their uniforms are shredded at the site of wear, and the stomachs are pierced, the neck ripped and the feet torn off as are the hands. What you find are torsos in full battle rattle and the torsos will collapse if run over, a body will dry out very quickly and turn
They landed in St Johnâs at midday. He watched the woman heâd almost spent the night with as she strode quickly away to meet her husband who had the kids, still with their winterhoods up. No, he hadnât almost spent the night with herâheâd turned the corner on women. He was faithful, as this woman is. Iâm a changed man, he thought, and allowed the cab manager to shepherd him into an orange taxi that drove him downtown to John and Silviaâs where he was still renting that room but not for long.
18
He phoned Martha.
That house, he said. Letâs go look at it.
She couldnât that day as she had to be in town to finish up with a patient who had hip dysplasiaâshe was helping the man with his adductor squeeze. Henry waited for the weekend. He drove her down the shore to Renews and they spent the night in John and Silviaâs summer place. In separate beds. It was freezing. There was a darkness in some of Marthaâs silences, a realization that things could not go on between them because of what had already happened. It was almost misery, is what he saw in her. But there was something brand new too, like the swipe of window wipers refreshing the glass. Her eyes pushed away the darkness and she was with him again. He was ready to give over even though the idea of sleeping together seemed perverse. One thing had led to another which led to the beds and they were both relieved about the beds and their easy independent access to them. I want to be good, Henry said to his own stomach as he undressed and climbed into the sheets.
In the morning they walked over to the cemetery and visitedthe new grave. It looked ugly. Cold and wet and the snow didnât even cover things. The soil had settled and frozen and heaved up again. He was buried in there like an improvised device. They would have to groom it in the spring.
Then they visited Tenderâs house.
The doors were locked and Martha did not have a key. Henry sized up the interior the way Tender trained him to do reconnaissance. The house, from the outside, looked to have good bones. He stepped back and stared at the eaves and the corners of the house were plumb. He fell back into the snow and stared up at this thing that someone he had no connection to had built. The front and back porches, the sills were gone and the porches were falling away from the heart of the house. The electric service cut off. The doors and the porches made it easy to defend from the inside.
Tender wanted to do this place up.
He had ambitions, Henry said.
Iâve been inside.
Youâve walked through it.
I like it.
Henry turned around. To be next to John and Silvia, but I donât know.
He tried to touch her shoulder the way a friend would, a caring person. He thought of the woman on the plane. Someone not sexual. Martha was overwhelmed with what had occurred and what her life was now to become. She needed and enjoyed distraction. Henry tried his best. He was exercising new ways of arranging his limbs. It is possible to be someone else, or the portion of you that doesnât get exercised often. He thought too about that artist and how he should return to her and tell her thatthe way she was falling was not anything like how a soldierâs legs break from under him and soldiers rarely are killed in open fire. Soldiers are blown apart, their uniforms are shredded at the site of wear, and the stomachs are pierced, the neck ripped and the feet torn off as are the hands. What you find are torsos in full battle rattle and the torsos will collapse if run over, a body will dry out very quickly and turn
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