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I smiled sweetly at his embarressment, beginning to walk again, kicking up golden leaves. I heard him scuffling leaves behind me. "And what was the point of this again?"
Forget it!" Sam said. "Do you you like this place or not?"
I stoped in my tracks, spinning to face him. "Hey." I pointed at him; he raised his eyebrows and stopped in his tracks. "You didn't think Jack would be here at all, did you?"
His thick black eyebrows went up even farther.
Did you evan intend to look for him at all?"
He held his hands up as if a surrender. "What do you want me to say?"
You were trying to see if I would reconize it, wern't you?" I took anouther step, colsing the distance between us. I could feel the heat of his body, even without touching him, in the increasing cold of the day. "YOU told me about this wood somehow. How did you show it to me?"
I keep trying to tell you. You wont listen. Because you're stubbon. It's how we speek- it's the only words we have. Just pictures. Just simple little picters. You HAVE changed Grace. Just not your skin. I want you to believe me." His hands were still raise, but he was starting to grin at me in the failing light.
So you brought me here to see this." I stepped forward again, and he stepped back.
Do you like it?"
Under false pretence." Anouther step forward; anouther back. The grine widened
So do you like it?"
When you knew we wouldn't come across anybody else."
His teeth flashed in his grin. "Do you like it?"
I punched my hands into his chest. "You know I love it. You knew I would." I went to punch him, and he grabed my wrists. For a moment we stood there like that, him looking down at me with a grin half-caught on his face, and me lookingup at him: Still Life with Boy and Girl. It would've been the perfect moment to kiss me, but he didn't. He just looked at me and looked at me, and by the time I relizeed I could just as easily kiss him, I noticed that his grin was slipping away.
Sam slowly lowered my wrists and relesed them. "I'm glad." he said very quietly.
My arms still hung by my sides, right where Sam had put them. I frowned at him. "You were supposed to kiss me."
I thought about it."
I just kept looking at the soft, sad shape of his lips, looking just like his voice sounded. I was probably staring, but I couldn't stop thinking about how much I wanted him to kiss me and how stupide it was to want it so badly. "Why don't you?"
He leaned over and gave mr the lightest of kisses. His lips, cool and dry, ever so polite and incredibly maddening. "I have to get inside soon," he whispered "It's getting cold” If I had a camera," I said, "I'd take a picture of you every day. That way I'd remember how you looked every single day of your life."
"I look exactly the same."
"No, you don't. You're changing all the time. Every day a tiny bit. If I could, I'd keep a record of it all."
"If you're so smart, how did I change today?"
"You got a fraction of a millimeter taller, for one thing. Your hair grew a fraction of a millimeter longer. And your breasts grew a fraction of a—"
"They did not!"
"Yes, they did."
"Did NOT."
"Did too."
"What else, you big pig?"
"You got a little happier and also a little sadder."
"Meaning they cancel out each other, leaving me exactly the same."
"Not at all. The fact that you got a little happier today doesn't change the fact that you also become a little sadder. Every day you become a little more of both, which means that right now, at this exact moment, you're the happiest and the saddest you've ever been in your whole life."
"How do you know?"
"Think about it. Have you ever been happier or sadder than right now, lying here in this grass?"
"I guess not. No."
"And have you ever been sadder?"
"No."
"It isn't like that for everyone, you know. Some people[...]"
"What about you? Are you the happiest and saddest right now that you've ever
been?"
"Of course I am."
"Why?"I recall certain moments, let us call them icebergs in paradise, when after having had my fill of her –after fabulous, insane exertions that left me limp and azure-barred–I would gather her in my arms with, at last, a mute moan of human tenderness (her skin glistening in the neon light coming from the paved court through the slits in the blind, her soot-black lashes matted, her grave gray eyes more vacant than ever–for all the world a little patient still in the confusion of a drug after a major operation)–and the tenderness would deepen to shame and despair, and I would lull and rock my lone light Lolita in my marble arms, and moan in her warm hair, and caress her at random and mutely ask her blessing, and at the peak of this human agonized selfless tenderness (with my soul actually hanging around her naked body and ready to repent), all at once, ironically, horribly, lust would swell again–and 'oh, no,' Lolita would say with a sigh to heaven, and the next moment the tenderness and the azure–all would be shattered.”
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