598
SUSAN SONTAG
gown, Utterson emerges into the corridor and shouts at one of the pupils to
go outside and rake the leaves. Then Jekyll puts his flannel pants and cor–
duroy jacket back on, goes down the back stairs, through the kitchen (where
Mrs. Hyde is squatting before the TV, set at Channel Three, the War Chan–
nel), and into the living room.Hyde is kneeling in the corner, fixing a bicycle.
It seems strange to think of Hyde having a bike and not his lethal Harley–
Davidson.
"Awake long?"
Hyde looks up and grunts. A different creature from last night: clear–
eyed, humanoid, more brutal, more youthful, more frightening. He scratches
his bald spot with a screwdriver.
"It's a beautiful day, ain't it?" Jekyll continues.
"Don't patronize me, pal," Hyde says in a menacing tone.
"If
1 want to 1
can talk as good as you college boys any day." He turns back to the bike and
does something with the pliers.
Jekyll pauses indecisively, then takes a step in Hyde's direction."What's
the Sunday train schedule?"
"Want to leave, huh?" Hyde doesn't look up.
"rye got to get back by dinner time."
Hyde slams the pliers down on the floor and puts his hands on his
razor-like hips. "You mean we're not going to elope and live happily ever
after, robbing banks together like Bonnie and Clyde?" Hyde pushes his voice
up to a falsetto.
"That's right," Jekyll says. "So what about the trains?"
"There's a local at 3 :40 that'll get hubby back home just in time."
Jekyll turns away, in irritation.
"No, waitl " croaks Hyde, standing up and hopping over his tool kit and
the bicycle chain. "I've been thinking about our rap last night. . . ."
Jekyll turns back.
"Listen, 1 figured it out. You don't need me. Do it on your own."
"Meaning what?" says Jekyll.
"Do somethingl Violent." Hyde hisses. "Rob a blind newsie. Molest a
child. Mug a fag. Strangle Utterson. Put-" Hyde stops, seeing Jekyll's face
blanch, and slaps his stringy thighs. "I got you there, didn't I?" he jeers.
"Wow, that horny old geezer really has you by the balls, don't he? You should
take what he's got that's good for you and run with it. Like me." As if to illus–
trate what he is saying, Hyde is hopping spastically around the room on one
foot.
.
"Hey, man, didn't you ever commit a crime?"
Jekyll doesn't answer. He is thinking of all the imaginary crimes he has
committed, and of all the real crimes he has never imagined.
If
only he had
the force, not the physical but the moral force, just to place his hands on
