Saint Peter’s Wolf Read Online Free PDF Page B

empty barrel. That’s what I was to them, I realized. I was adult and foreign, part of a world they could not imagine and did not want to.
    It came back to me for a moment, how fine it was to play as they were playing. I ached to join them. It would be so easy to stride forward and kick the ball high into the air. Do it, I ordered myself. You can still play.
    I gazed down at the keys in my hand, at my leather-soled oxfords, my charcoal gray suit. I did not want to leave the field, but I forced myself to turn, and slowly found my way back to the car.
    Cherry was in the kitchen. I knew what was going to happen as soon as I saw her. She leaned against the kitchen sink, a coffee cup in her hand. She did not greet me, and I said nothing to her except to mention that traffic had not been bad, and that Carliss had made it to school with plenty of time to spare.
    Small talk, I said, feeling small as I made it.
    Her silence was fire. At last she spoke. “This is it.”
    She waited, and I was afraid to make a sound.
    â€œYou can guess what I have to say,” she said sadly.
    â€œI’m not good at guessing,” I said. You do not, I told myself, want to hear this. But it was time. I poured myself some coffee. Her tone told me more than any language ever could articulate.
    I had been forestalling this conversation for too long, yet even now I turned away from her so I did not have to face her, and when I glanced down at my hands the coffee was shivering in its cup.
    â€œI admire you, Ben. You’re wise. Sensitive.”
    Coffee danced in the cup, and I had to set the cup down firmly on the counter and grip the edge of the counter hard, leaning against it, bracing myself for what was to come.
    â€œI can’t say it, but I have to say it.”
    She was waiting for me to permit her to continue. I must have nodded, or indicated by a slight change in posture that I was ready to hear whatever she had to tell.
    â€œI’ve been having an affair,” she said, her voice hoarse. “I love someone else, Ben. I can’t help myself. I hope you can forgive me. I’ve made up my mind to leave you.”
    She said this in a rush, a speech which she had to deliver before she faltered, her sentences choppy, abrupt.
    I closed my eyes. And knew. I saw everything, and put my hands to my head and dug my fingers into my hair.
    No! This can’t be true, I told myself, all the while I knew it was. Don’t buckle, I commanded myself. Stay steady. I was shivering, still, but a stunned calm came over me. Whatever happens, I knew I must not lose my temper. It was important to not say or do anything I might regret. I took a deep breath, and I let my hands drop to my side.
    Betrayal. Raw, ugly cheating had ruptured my home. My life. But I had seen it coming, and in my desire to avoid the sweaty honesty the truth required I had waited too long. I tried to speak, and could barely move my lips. I tried again. “It’s Orr,” I said.
    I heard her answer before she uttered it, and it reverberated after she had spoken. “Yes.”
    I struck the counter, once, with my fist, and a wine glass hidden in a cupboard sang, a high, crystal keen. Even now I must not say anything or do anything ugly. It was too late. Take this blow with dignity, I told myself. Stay steady.
    Aplomb. That’s what was needed. It was hard, shuddering as I was, struggling to control myself. I put my hand on her shoulder, and found myself wanting to comfort her as I had comforted Carliss the night before.
    But this was not a dream. I coughed, and shook myself, struggling to maintain some degree of composure, while what I really wanted to do was break up furniture, hurl crockery, and wail.
    And worse. I wanted to do really terrible things, and it was this flicker of violence that made me turn away, afraid of my own passions. I was furious. I was anguished beyond words.
    I coughed. “Thank you,” I said at last, my voice nearly