Chapter 14 Everything is glued to him

She came to Milan for Christmas and wanted to know about her childhood. Tell me, she said.Tell me what I was like back then.She sipped her liqueur and watched him intently, waiting. She was a sleek, slender, attractive girl who was impeccable from head to toe. That was a long time ago.That was twenty years ago, he said. You can remember, she said.Tell me. What do you want to hear?he asked.What else can I tell you?I can tell you something about when you were a baby.It's about you, he said.But it doesn't matter. Tell me, she said.But pour us another glass of wine first, so we don't have to stop halfway later.

He came back from the kitchen with the wine, sat down in a chair, and began talking. The eighteen-year-old boy married his seventeen-year-old girlfriend when they were children themselves, but they loved each other to death.Before long, they had a daughter. The baby was born in a cold snap in late November, just in time for the peak waterfowl season in the area.Boys love to hunt, you know, that's part of the story. Boy and girl, now husband and wife, father and mother, live in a three-bedroom apartment below a dentist's office.They clean the upstairs clinic every night in exchange for rent and utility bills.In summer they have to maintain the lawn and flowers, and in winter the boys have to shovel the snow off the aisles and sprinkle coarse salt on the road.Are you still listening to me?Did you hear something?

I'm listening, she said. That's good, he said.One day the dentist noticed they were writing letters on his special paper.But that's another story. He got up from his chair and looked out of the window for a moment.He looked at the slate roof and the snow that kept falling on it. Just tell the story, she said. The two children are very much in love.In addition, they both have great ambitions and are wild visionaries.They are always talking about things to do and places to go. Boy and girl sleep in bedroom, baby sleeps in crib in living room.Let's say the baby was about three months old at the time and had just started sleeping through the night.

One Saturday night, the boy stayed in the dentist's office after finishing his upstairs work and called his dad's old hunting friend. Carl, he said when the man picked up the phone, believe it or not, I'm a father now. Congratulations, Carl said.How is the wife? She's fine, Carl.Everyone is good. That's good, Carl said.I'm so happy for you.If you're calling about hunting, listen to me.Flocks of wild geese are flying here.In all my years of hunting I have never seen so many.I hit five today.I will go there tomorrow morning, if you want to go, you can go together.

I'm going, said the boy. The boy hung up the phone and went downstairs to tell the girl.She watched him tidy up his things.Hunting clothing, bullet pouches, boots, socks, hunting caps, long underwear and shotguns. When will you come back?the girl asked. About noon, the boy said.But it might be six o'clock.Is that too late? It's all right, she said.The kids and I are fine.You go ahead and have fun.When you get back, we'll dress up the baby and go to Sally's. Sounds like a good idea, the boy said. Sally is the girl's older sister.Looks very attractive.I don't know if you've seen a picture of her.The boy is a little bit in love with Sally, just as he is a little bit in love with Bessie, the girl's other sister.Boys used to say to girls, if we hadn't married, I would have gone after Sally.

What about Bessie?the girl had asked.I hate to admit it, but I really think she looks better than Sally and I.how is she? Bessie too, said the boy. After dinner, he turned up the fire and helped her bath the baby.He was again amazed at the baby's appearance, which had half his features and half a girl's.He powdered the little body and sprinkled some powder between his fingers and toes. After pouring the bathwater into the shower, he went upstairs to check the weather.It was cold outside.What had once been a lawn looked like a canvas, stiff and gray under the streetlights. Snow piled up on both sides of the aisle.A car drove by and he heard the sound of tires pressing against the sand.He imagined tomorrow, geese circling above his head, gun butts hitting his shoulder.

Then he locked the door and went downstairs. In bed they tried to read something, but they both fell asleep, her first, with the magazine in her hands under the covers. He was awakened by the cry of the child. The lights outside were on.The girl stood by the crib, shaking the baby in her arms.She put the baby down, turned off the light, and went back to bed. He heard the baby cry.This time the girl didn't move.The baby cried fitfully for a while, then stopped.The boy listened for a while, then dozed off again.But the baby's crying woke him up again.The living room was brightly lit.He sat up and turned on the lamp.

I don't know what's going on,' said the girl, walking up and down with the baby in her arms.I have changed her diaper and fed her again.But she kept crying.She kept crying.I'm exhausted and really worried she's going to fall off my hands. You come to bed, the boy said.I hold her for a while. He got up and took the baby, and the girl went back to bed and lay down. Rock her a little longer, the girl said from the bedroom.Maybe she fell asleep. Boy with baby sitting on sofa.He nudged her gently on his knee until she closed her eyes.His own eyes were nearly closed.He stood up carefully and put the baby in the crib.

It was a quarter to four and he still had forty-five minutes of sleep.He climbed into bed and fell asleep.But after a few minutes, the baby started crying again.This time, both of them got up. The boy did something terrible.He cursed. For heaven's sake, what's wrong with you?the girl said to him.Maybe she's sick.Maybe we shouldn't give her a bath. The boy picked up the baby.The baby kicked and laughed. You see, said the boy, I really don't think there is anything wrong with her. How did you know?the girl said.Come here and give her to me.I know I should give her some medicine, but I don't know what to take.

The girl put the baby down again.Both the boy and the girl looked at the baby, and the baby began to cry again. The girl held the baby, baby, baby, and she had tears in her eyes as she spoke. It's possible she has an upset stomach, the boy said. The girl ignored him.She kept rocking the baby in her arms, not paying any attention to the boy's presence. The boy waited for a while.He went to the kitchen to boil water for coffee.He layered woolen underwear over shorts and a T-shirt, then a coat. What are you doing?the girl said. Go hunting, he said. I don't think you should go, she said.I don't want to leave her alone like this.

Carl planned me, the boy said, we planned. I don't care what you and Carl have planned, she said.I don't care about Carl at all.I don't even know this guy. You met Carl in the past, you knew him, the boy said.What do you mean you don't know him? That's not the point, you know that, the girl said. What is the key?said the boy.The point is that we plan. the girl said.I am your wife.This is your child.Is she sick or something.you look at her.Otherwise why is she crying? I know you are my wife, said the boy. The girl began to cry.She put the baby back in the crib, but the baby cried again.The girl wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her pajamas and picked her up again. The boy ties up his shoes and puts on a shirt, sweater and coat.The kettle on the kitchen stove screeched. You have to make a choice, the girl said.Carl is still us.I was serious. what do you mean?said the boy. You heard me, the girl replied.If you want a home, you have to make a choice. They stared at each other for a while.The boy took his hunting gear and went out.He started the car, walked around to the window, and scraped the ice as if he was doing something very difficult. He turned off the engine and sat in it for a while.He got out of the car and went back to the house. The light was on in the living room, but the girl was asleep in the bed, with the child asleep beside her. The boy took off his boots and *other clothes.He sat on the sofa in his socks and long underwear, reading the Sunday paper. The girl and child continued to sleep.After a while the boy went to the kitchen and started frying bacon. The girl came out in her nightgown and put her arms around the boy. hi, said the boy. I'm sorry, the girl said. Nothing, the boy said. I don't want to be so fierce. I was wrong, he said. You sit down, the girl said.How about waffles with fried bacon? Very nice, said the boy. She took the bacon out of the frying pan and prepared it for the pancakes.He sat at the table and watched her work in the kitchen. She put a plate in front of him with bacon and a waffle.He buttered it and poured syrup on it.But when cutting the pie, he knocked the plate over onto his lap. what the hell, he said, jumping up from the table If you could see yourself, the girl said. The boy looked down at himself and saw everything stuck to his underwear. I'm starving, he said, shaking his head. You're starving, she said, laughing. He took off the woolen underwear and threw it at the bathroom door.Then he opened his arms and she slipped in. We don't fight anymore, she said. The boy said, no more. He rose from his chair and filled their glasses. It's over, he said, the story's over.I admit it's not much of a story. It's funny, she said. He shrugged and went to the window with his drink.It was already dark, but the snow was still falling. Things are changing, he said.I don't know how they changed.But it is always unconsciously, and it does not change according to your wishes. Yes, that's true, but—but she just started and didn't go on. She dropped the subject.In the reflection of the window, he could see that she was thinking about her nails.She looked up a moment later and asked cheerfully if he planned to show her the city at all. He said put on your boots and let's go. But he still stayed by the window, recalling that period of life.They used to laugh.They'd cuddled up and laughed until they were in tears, and everything else—the cold weather and where he was going—was out of his mind, at least not yet.