The Animal Hour Read Online Free PDF

at her elbow. “Hey,” he said, “this is ridiculous. Why don’t you just shoot him?”
    Startled, she swung around to face him. “What do you mean, shoot him? I’m not just going to shoot him, how can I …?”
    She stopped. No one was there. No one was standing there at all. There was only the file cabinet in the corner. The open window. The ledge out over Warren Street. The faint plash of traffic. The faint clatter of falling leaves in the park on Broadway. And no one …
    Nancy stood where she was. For a long, long moment, she just stood: half turned; her mouth open. She stared at the file cabinet, at the window. Her eyes darted from one to the other, and to the wall, and to the floor, trying to find someone, anyone, anything , that might have just spoken to her.
    A voice? The thought blinked in her mind like neon as she stared. A voice telling me to shoot him? Did I hear that? Oh shit. Oh, that is not good. That is not a good thing at all.
    â€œMartha,” Goldstein said. She heard him speaking to the secretary in slow, authoritative tones. “Martha, I want you to call the police. From my office. Right now. Right away.”
    â€œRight.”
    Slowly—still staring, still wide-eyed—Nancy (She was Nancy, damn it. Wasn’t she?) turned to face them again. Goldstein was closer to her now. Creeping up on the near side of her well-groomed desk. Albert was coming around the far side, edging toward her. There were more people in the doorway too and some out in the corridor, a whole audience of them. And there was Martha in her red dress. She was just turning to push her way into the crowd. Just tearing her fearful gaze away from Nancy and turning to push her way to the phone in Goldstein’s office. To call the police.
    â€œThat—That won’t be necessary,” Nancy heard herself whisper. She could barely squeeze the words out past the stricture in her throat. Her head had begun to throb again. All her thoughts seemed to have dissolved into a thick mist that hung over her mind, over everything. She swallowed hard, but her throat was dry. Her lips were dry and stiff. “That’s not necessary,” she said, a little louder.
    Martha paused. She glanced doubtfully at Mr. Goldstein.
    â€œI’ll … I’ll just go,” Nancy said quickly. She had to get out. She had to get some air, clear her thoughts. What the hell … What the hell …? “I’ll just … I’ll go, okay? Just let me go.” Shoot him?
    Goldstein lifted a hand toward her. “Are you sure you don’t want us to call someone for you? I think you could use some help, Miss.”
    Shoot him? “No, no, I’m …” She bit her lip, fighting back the tears. “I’m fine,” she said. She could not look at him. She looked at the desktop in front of her. She could not look at any of them, could not meet their eyes. “I’m just not feeling very well right now, I’m … I’m sorry. I … I don’t feel well.”
    They were all looking at her. She knew they were all looking, staring at her. She felt naked in front of them. God! she thought. God, I mean … I mean: God! She reached out quickly, snatched her purse off the desktop. She clutched it to her chest as if for protection. “I’m just not feeling very well,” she said. “I’ll just go. That’s all. Please.”
    She scuttled forward quickly. The crowd parted in front of her. Hell, they jumped out of her way, jumped to either side. They couldn’t leave the path clear fast enough. She hurried through them. She was vaguely aware that Goldstein was following her. That he and Albert had come around just behind her, on either side of her. They flanked her as she hurried out of the office. They escorted her down the corridor. Past the dingy offices behind their glass partitions. Past the photo of Fernando framed by the city. Out