The City Below Read Online Free PDF Page B

were.
    He snapped his cigarette away, but instead of getting up to go, he reached into his pocket and pulled out another one. Didi held out her cigarette to him, and he leaned toward it to take a light. He cupped his hands around the tips. His hands shook slightly as the cigarettes touched, then flared.
    "Like dragonflies," she said.
    Terry wasn't sure what she meant He inhaled with an excessive show of pleasure, as she had, and he leaned back. He became aware of her legs, one crossed over the other, her knee peeking out from her skirt. She was wearing nylons. As he watched, she shifted her legs, turning toward him, nearly touching him. He had never noticed before the line a woman's calf muscle makes as it falls to the hollow of her ankle.
    She looked at his face and waited until he looked back. "Speaking of brothers, that was something, what yours did today."
    "What?"
    "You didn't hear?"
    "No."
    "Some Italians came into your grandfather's store. They wanted money—"
    "A robbery?" Terry's alarm brought him forward.
    "Not exactly. They said they wanted payments."
    "Protection?"
    "I guess so. Squire fooled them. Jackie said he made them think your grandfather was already paying it Jackie said they couldn't get out of there fast enough. Lucky for him. You should see his eye."
    Terry felt that he was supposed to be in two places at once: at the Bouquet, seeing this thing happen—what, Jackie getting slugged? Nick scoring somehow? Terry felt he should have been there stopping anything bad from happening—but also here. He was supposed to be here, with this girl whom he felt he was meeting for the first time. The scent of her perfume hit him only then; he'd never noticed her perfume before. He was aware of her chest, inside her father's shirt. He took in a glimpse of her tan blouse as if it were underwear.
    There was life in her legs as she uncrossed and crossed them again; the sound made him think of satin.
    Moments passed.
    Terry wanted to put his hand on Didi's knee, but she spoke before he could do so, not that he ever would have tried.
    "Your brother is special," she said. "Everybody says so."
    Terry leaned back and let his eyes follow the clouds. They were running across the sky like horses, and all he knew was that he wanted to be one of them. He said nothing. How could he?
    Alter a long time, Didi pinched the small butt to her lips like a truck driver. Then she flipped it away, somebody in a movie. She put both her arms behind her back, pressed them against the bench, swelling her breasts. On purpose? She said, "So are you."
    "What?"
    "Special."
    "Why do you say that?"
    "Because it's true. You're going to be a priest. That's special."
    "But I'm not," he whispered, not daring to look at her. Usually when he had this feeling he was in bed, crushing his pillow, raging. But now he was taut, his back straight, his hands on the cold wood by his thighs. Though a space of only inches separated them, it might as well have been the whole city.
    "You're not what?"
    "Not going to be a priest."
    He had never said it aloud before. Until now he had not understood that this was his problem. Where there was supposed to be faith—that cavity in his chest, his heart, his soul—was instead this feeling; this feeling of loss and longing was what he worshiped.
    "Why not?"
    He said simply and quickly, "Because I'm not worthy."
    It was the truth, but also it was miles from being the whole truth.
    "Have you told anyone?" she asked quietly.
    He shook his head.
    Having told you that, he thought, may I touch you now? An obvious deflection from what he'd just declared, his new longing for her. An instance of his unworthiness? If that's what it was, he did not care. The elements of her face were concentrated into the dark pupils of her eyes, which had locked on him. How could he ever have thought her un-beautiful?
    How many times had he peered at the backs of the heads of girls who did not know of his existence, thinking, Look at me! Turn in your