Infinite(89)

Outside, the rain continued to fall, as heavily as it had since it began. I stood up from the desk and leaned against the window frame, watching the drops run down the glass. The city and the lake were hidden from view behind a gray curtain. Despite the raging storm, I felt restless inside. A compulsion or obsession in my mind drew me to leave this place, to drive away into the rain, to find something I’d lost. I was supposed to be somewhere else.

But where?

“There’s a flood.”

I heard a voice behind me and turned around. Tai stood in the doorway of my office, her clothes soaking wet. Her words made me shiver. “What?”

“Half the downtown streets are flooded. That’s why I’m so late.”

“That’s okay. No problem.”

“Good morning, by the way.”

“Yes, good morning.”

“How did yesterday go? You were going to try Eve Brier’s new therapy. What happened?”

Tai showed no reluctance about asking me to share intimate confidences. Once upon a time, I would have done that, but not anymore.

“It went fine.”

“That’s all? Just fine?”

“That’s all, Tai.”

“Oh. All right.”

I watched her hesitate, trying to understand why I was acting so distant. She took a step into the office, as if she were debating whether to come closer. Talk to me. Touch my shoulder. Tell me that if I needed anything, she was here for me. If I felt lonely, I could come by for a drink tonight and for anything else that might happen.

But she saw the dismissal in my face. I couldn’t hide it. When I looked at Tai now, I saw all my mistakes with her come to life. I knew what it was like to sleep with her and share a bed together. I’d seen a world where we were husband and wife, and it was one more bad choice. None of it was real to her, but it was real to me, and I couldn’t get past it.

“We should talk about the Seaton wedding,” she said, her voice turning cool.

“Let’s do it later, okay? I have to go out for a while.”

“Okay. Whatever you want.”

I turned away toward the window, shutting down our conversation. There was a long pause behind me, and then I heard her footsteps as she left.

As she did, a voice called from the doorway.

“Come find me. I’m still here.”

I spun around. “What did you say?”

Tai was halfway out the door, and she stopped. “I said, when you get back, come find me. I’ll be here.”

“Sure. I will.”

She gave me a confused look and walked away.

When she was gone, I wasted no time getting ready to leave. I couldn’t get away fast enough. I turned off the lights and closed the office door. My coat and umbrella were in my car in the garage, but I didn’t bother going to get them. I went to the lobby, ignoring the people who tried to talk to me. I had to get outside. I needed space, oxygen, light. I felt as if I were running out of breath, trapped underwater. A beast sat on my chest, weighing me down.

Tai was right about the streets. They were flooded. The rain on Michigan Avenue flowed six inches deep. Buses and cars plowed through the water, throwing up waves. My drenched clothes clung to my skin, and my hair was pasted down. I had to squint, because the wind drove the torrent hard into my face. Even the summer rain felt ice cold. I headed into the park, which I had virtually to myself, because everyone else was sheltered inside.

What was I doing here?

Where was I going? I didn’t know.

I made my way to the bench near the fountain where I’d met Eve Brier. Except I hadn’t met Eve here. Not really. Not in this world. I sat down and thought: Say the word. That was what she’d told me to do when we were together. Say the word. I said it out loud to the storm, as if I were somehow still locked away inside my head, a doll inside a doll inside a doll inside a doll.

“Infinite.”

I held my breath, hoping that my world would transform, but the rainy Chicago day went on exactly as before. Whatever had happened to me was over and done. Why couldn’t I accept the fact that this was the end of the road?

Why did I keep looking for something more?

I sat there in the park, a solitary man with the city all to himself. My city. Then I checked my watch, and I remembered with a curse: Edgar. He was waiting for me. Storms, blizzards, and tornadoes wouldn’t keep him from the Art Institute on Thursday. I got off the bench and walked past Buckingham Fountain, which jetted water into the air despite the water pelting it from the sky. I splashed along cobblestones, the city skyscrapers going in and out of low clouds ahead of me. Around me were flowers, trellises, and topiaries, all drowning in the storm.

When I got to the museum, I hurried up the steps past the stone lions. Inside, tourists escaping the rain crowded the lobby. The smell of wet people got in my nose like the wormy stench of the river. I climbed the grand staircase to the upper level and squeezed through the busy galleries. When I passed La Grande Jatte, I found myself looking for Dylan Moran in a leather jacket. I expected to see his face—my face—eyeing me with a steely blue gaze. I expected all the faces around me to become my face, as if I were back inside the portal.

Instead, it was an ordinary day at the museum.

I found Edgar in the wing where he always was. He wore a raincoat and a fedora that had to be decades old. From the back, he looked a little like the mystery man in Nighthawks, whose face you never saw. I navigated the crowd, and he shot me an impatient stare as I came up beside him.