THALIA SELZ
with whipped cream, malt-balls from the m<?vies, supper's lamb
chop, even the salted peanuts I'd nibbled after school.
Then I went to bed and cried for a long time.
Eventually I heard Joshua trudge upstairs. He went
into
the
parlor, opened the coat closet door, shut it again, and came back,
poking his head in at my door.
"Daphne?"
I considered a moment and then murmured, "Mm-m-"
"I'm going out for a breath of air. Your folks should be home
soon. You scared to stay alone?"
"No." This was a lie.
"I won't go far."
"OK."
"Goodnight, Betty Boop."
Now
is
the time. Now-now! Call
him
in before he gets
to
the kitchen, before his step crosses the threshold, before he shuts
the back door. Sit him on the foot of your bed. Tell him every–
thing in a rush, no matter how it sounds. He. is your Joshua
and
he is in danger.
Instead I sulked silently, listening to his steps crunch down
the cinder drive, because in my hideous self-consciousness I was
afraid I smelled sour from the vomit and because I was even
more afraid of his disbelief. He was crazy-and he was crazy about
that piece of fake e.xoticism, Vasiliki; he
woul~n't
believe me.
He
would think I was mean and jealous and he would never call
me "Betty Boop" again.
In addition, there lingered a fantastic apprehension at the
back of my memory. Maybe Vasiliki was right. We knew very
little about him, after all. He had said
for a breath of air,
but what
if he meant something else? I shivered and wriggled farther under
the covers.
Some time later my parents came home. They were
arguing
as they walked up the drive, and I heard them step into the
base–
ment, probably just for a look, and then come upstairs,
still
arguing. Briefly they were silent while my' mother trotted
into
the
parlor and quickly returned toward the kitchen, gently
closing
Jason's door and mine on the way.
I knew they wanted to be alone to argue so I did not summon
