110
PHILIP L. GREENE
Chinese robe and big, furry slippers. He offered Rollie a glass of
port
and set out on a Delft dish some Huntley and Palmer biscuits.
"My aunt sends me a package every year from London. Like
Girl Scout cookies," he said, taking a
chair
opposite the couch Rollie
had slumped in. Malcolm crossed his legs and pulled the silky robe
over
his
knees. His hairless calves stuck out from beneath the robe.
"I would like to try your bar
bells,"
Rollie said.
"Bar bells?"
"Your weights. You use weights, don't you?" Rollie's voice
cracked. He sipped some wine and twisted the stem of the glass in
his
fingers.
i
Malcolm crossed his legs and smoothed the robe again. "I have
an exercise bicycle in the cellar. You are welcome to it."
"Is that what you use? Let me
ask
you something. Do you be–
lieve
m
original sin? I'm sure you think about things like that. The
redemptive theory. How do you buy back what you have lost? How
does one redeem oneself?"
"You could save enough S
&
H Green Stamps. I'd say I'm
worth about one and a half
books."
"Do you keep oil? I might like to try the oil."
"What oil?" Malcolm's tone was pitched a bit higher.
"Body oil. Mter the weights."
"What are you after?" Malcolm was tense, hostile. His white,
beardless face showed patches of red under the cheekbones.
"What I'm after. What I'm after." Rollie shrugged and drained
his
glass. "I'll confess. I'm after the Redemptive Principle. Man is
alone confronting the void. No original
sin.
Martin Buber says ...
Never mind. The agony of self knowledge. Who are you? Who
speaks for man?" He paused and turned on Malcolm. "Where do
you keep your weights?"
"I'm really very tired."
"Here's something to perk you up." Rollie opened
his
briefcase
and took out Malcolm's envelope. He untied the string and shook
the photographs out on the couch. "Pretty men," he said, trying on
the porter's smile.
Malcolm
stood
over the pictures, rubbing
his
sweating palms.
The big, furry slippers held up pelican ankles. He picked up one
of
the photographs with listless fingers.
"I'm all alone in
this
thing," Rollie went on. "Everywhere I go
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