Black Sunday Read Online Free PDF Page A

against the wall. He wanted to fight. Margaret came over him in a rush, and he could smell her and feel her. Talking about it over a plywood desk. He had to think about something. The teapot whistle. Not that, for God's sake. Now he had a cold ache in his colon and he reached for a Lomotil tablet. Too late for Lomotil. He would have to find a restroom. Quick. Now he walked back to the waiting room, the dead air like cobwebs on his face. He was pale and sweat stood out on his forehead as he entered the small restroom. The single stall was occupied and another man was waiting outside it. Lander turned and walked back through the waiting room. Spastic colon, his medical profile said. No medication prescribed. He had found Lomotil for himself.
    Why didn't I take some before?
    The man with the moving eyes tracked Lander as far as he could without turning his head. The pain in Lander's bowels was coming in waves now, making goosebumps on his arms, and he was gagging.
    The fat janitor fumbled through his keys and let Lander into the employee's washroom. Waiting outside, the janitor could not hear the unpleasant sounds. At last, Lander turned his face up to the Celotex ceiling. Retching had made his eyes water and the tears ran down his face.
    For a second he was squatting beside the path with the guards watching on the forced march to Hanoi.
    It was the same, the same. The teapot whistle came.
    "Cocksuckers," Lander croaked. "Cocksuckers." He wiped his face with his ugly hand.
    __________
     
    Dahlia, who had had a busy day with Lander's credit cards, was on the platform when he got off the commuter train. She saw him ease down off the step and knew he was trying not to joggle his insides.
    She filled a paper cup with water from the fountain and took a small bottle from her purse. The water turned milky as she poured in the paregoric.
    He did not see her until she was beside him, offering the cup.
    It tasted like bitter licorice and left a faint numbness in his lips and tongue. Before they reached the car, the opium was soothing the ache and in five minutes it was gone. When they reached the house, he fell into bed and slept for three hours.
    __________
     
    Lander woke confused and unnaturally alert. His defenses were working, and his mind recoiled from painful images with the speed of a pinball. His thoughts rolled over the safe, painted images between the buzzers and the bells. He had not blown it today, he could rest on that.
    The teapot---his neck tightened. He seemed to itch somewhere between his shoulders and his cortex in a place he could not reach. His feet would not keep still.
    The house was completely dark, its ghosts rust beyond the firelight of his will. Then, from the bed, he saw a flickering light coming up the stairs. Dahlia was carrying a candle, her shadow huge on the wall. She wore a dark floor-length robe that covered her completely and her bare feet made no sound. Now she was standing by him, the candlelight a pinpoint in her great, dark eyes. She held out her hand.
    "Come, Michael. Come with me."
    Slowly backing down the dark hall, she led him, looking into his face. Her black hair down over her shoulders. Backing, feet peeping white from under the hem. Back to what had been the playroom, empty these seven months. Now in the candlelight Lander could see that a huge bed waited at the end of the room and heavy drapes covered the walls. Incense touched his face and the small blue flame of a spirit lamp flickered on a table near the bed. It was no longer the room where Margaret had---no, no, no.
    Dahlia put her candle beside the lamp and with a feather touch removed Lander's pajama top. She undid the drawstring and knelt to slip the trousers off his feet, her hair brushing against his thigh. "You were so strong today." She gently pressed him back upon the bed. The silk beneath him was cool and the air was a cool ache upon his genitals.
    He lay watching her as she lit two tapers in holders on the walls. She passed