The Passenger (The Passenger, #1)(76)

I dont know.

Sheddan pulled at his cigar. He shook his head. Not even all that sexy a woman. Goodlooking but in an odd way. Incisors like a Jurassic cat. A man shouldnt ignore a thing like that.

Pleistocene.

What?

Pleistocene. Cat.

Yes, well. Find me something that alliterates.

He held up the bottom of his glass in his fingers and rotated it slowly. The icecubes held true north. The sweeter the more lethal, Squire. Oh you do occasionally find one who flies her true colors. It’s even refreshing in a way. A bitch to the teeth, fair field and no favor. Dried scrotums strung on a cord hanging from the footboard. But these other ones. The shy smile and the downturned eyes. Jesus. Spare me.

What has happened to our cavalier, John? This is a grim portrait.

I told you. I’m not in a good mood. Still at heart I know there’s more wisdom in sorrow than in joy. Maybe you can see why I resent being called a cynic.

Tell me.

It doesnt fit the case. What’s the adjective most commonly attached to cynicism?

I dont know. Cheap?

Yes. And it’s not. It’s not even cynicism and it damned sure isnt cheap. Well, piss on it. Anyway, you can complain bitterly about the fair sex and still maintain a grudging admiration. I’d even make the claim that if you’ve never contemplated killing a woman you’ve probably never been in love. What are you doing for the rest of the evening?

I dont know. Why?

I thought we might dismember a brace of crustaceans. Wash them down with a chilled Montrachet.

While discussing the verities.

While.

I think I’ll take a pass.

I’ve some fresh plastic to cover the tab.

Kind of you. But I’m tired and you’re out of sorts.

As you like, Squire. Although a good meal does do wonders for a man’s disposition.

I’m amazed at your freedom of movement. Arent you supposed to report to a parole officer from time to time?

I’m working on that.

Is Judy helping you?

No. I had to let her go.

You had to let her go?

Yes.

You fired her?

Yes.

But she was working for you pro bono.

God, Squire. Is that supposed to provide some sort of warranty against dismissal? I’ve had to take matters into my own hands.

What, you’re going to defend yourself?

I suppose you could put it like that. I’m paying off the judge. Interesting thing is that they’re letting me do it on the installment plan. Courtesy of the bagman, of course. His Honor gets his up front. I like the simplicity of it. I’ve never understood why justice wasnt supposed to be for sale. Perhaps including a reasonable credit plan. What’s so special about justice?

Now you are being cynical.

Not a bit of it.

You think I’m naive.

I dont think you’re naive. You are naive. My understanding of it is not what makes it so. Why dont you have a coffee?

All right.

Sheddan ordered a coffee and a fresh gin and tonic. The waiter nodded and moved away.

You think she’s flown the coop for good?

Tulsa.

Yes.

Probably more good than ill. Quién sabe. I asked a woman to marry me one time. In a restaurant.

And?

And she picked up her purse and left.

That was it?

That was it.

That’s a strange story.

I thought so. An evening like that will unstructure you.

Unstructure?

Yes.

Were you serious?

About the proposal?

Yes.

Yes. Of course.

How long had you known her?

I dont know. Two. Three days.

You’re joking.

I dont know, Squire. Maybe a year.

Did you think she would say yes?

I did. More fool.

Did I know her?

No. This was in California. You were in Europe.

I suppose you suddenly saw in her a wisdom you had not heretofore suspected.

Cruel, Squire. But a certain truth there. I realized that while she found me entertaining she had other plans for life.

Did you ever hear what became of her?

Yes. She’s a cardiac surgeon at Johns Hopkins.

You’re serious.

Completely.

Interesting.

The waiter came with their drinks. Here we are, said John. Your health.

And yours.

We dont move through the days, Squire. They move through us. Until the last cruel crank of the ratchet.

I’m not sure I see the distinction.

It’s just that the passing of time is irrevocably the passing of you. And then nothing. I suppose it should be a comfort to understand that one cannot be dead forever where there’s no forever to be dead in. Well. I see your look. I know that you see me enfettered in some cognitive morass and I’m sure that you would contend it to be the ultimate solipsism to believe that the world ceases when you do. But I’ve no other way to look at it.

It’s just that I’m not sure how it would change anything.

I know. But I can hear the dice clattering as well as the next chap.

Ultimately there is nothing to know and no one to know it.

Ultimately. Yes.

Are you slipping away from us, John?

Sheddan smiled. He sipped his drink. I dont think so. Even if all news of the world was a lie it would not then follow that there is some counterfactual truth for it to be a lie about.