“I thought that… maybe I could come over.”
“You can’t come to the house.”
“Because Rich kicked me out.”
“It doesn’t matter, he’s made up his mind. Its good to hear from you, Bluebird,” he replied flatly, unsure if he even believed his own words.
“Wait, what happened? Are you OK?”
“I am doing the same as I always am.”
“Where are you?”
“Andy’s place. For now.”
“Andy? Isn’t he that guy from work, the bald one?”
“He’s a junkie.”
“Used to be. He’s a good man.”
“Aren’t you worried?”
“What happened, Harmon, why would he do this.”
“I wouldn’t give him a cigarette because he wanted me to admit that everyone was a liar. But I’m not. He didn’t believe me. Became prickly about it. So did I. That’s it.”
“But you were going to start a band and…”
“Nothing I can do. I tried talking to him. No use. Some people, no matter what’s done for them, will never reciprocate, will never take the full measure of their relationships until long after they’ve turned to dust.”
He was talking about her as much as Sprawls but he restrained himself from making the fact explicit. She might not come over then.
After a beat the woman responded, her voice shaking a little.
“I think you’re right about that.”
“You know where Andy lives?”
He gave her the directions and they set a time and then she said she had to go but would call later, when she was on her way. He hung up and wondered what he would say to her. What could he say, knowing of her perfidy?
There had been too many words already.
The time had come for acts.