The Angry Dream Read Free Page A

feet.
    “Shut up, Noraine!”
    My voice echoed and mingled with her laughter.
    “I heard you were here, Al. It’s about time, too.”
    I went into the living room, feeling crazy as hell, with a wild undercurrent of disbelief. If I’d stood there another moment, I would have struck her. I went over to a straight chair by the fieldstone fireplace and sat down. I shined the light on the floor and the hound came over and sniffed at the trembling bright white circle of light.
    “Say
something
, Al. Can’t you ask me how come I’m here?” She laughed and I felt sick. The hound went out onto the front porch and I heard him ramming through the side yard.
    “Al?”
    “All right.”
    “They said you were back. It’s all over town, like a brush fire.”
    “Shut up!”
    I looked at her and she was smiling at me with that same old smile.
    “Let’s get out of here, Al. It’s creepy. Dirty, too.”
    “How did you get here?”
    “On a bus.”
    “When?”
    “Two weeks ago. I’m staying at White’s boarding house, just off Main Street.” She came over to me and tapped my shoulder. I could smell the clean perfume and the touch of her hand was very familiar.
    “Why, Noraine—
why?”
    “You know the answer to that. To wait for you. I lost you—and then I remembered all those times when you were drinking. How you’d talk about this place, and I knew you had to come here. You couldn’t help it. So I came.” She hesitated, her tone softening. “I’d almost given up—it’s been a long time, Al.”
    I listened to her breathing and sensed her impatience.
    “Come on,” she said. “Let’s go to my place.”
    She was hoping.
    “We’re not going anywhere together, Noraine. You should know that by now.”
    She did not speak. I glanced at her again. The fine thick hair and the nose like a gentle ski-slide and the watchful eyes. The long, shapely body under a dark floppy coat. The collar was buttoned high up under her chin and she stood there on one high-heeled foot, rubbing the calf of her leg with the other foot. She looked cold. I hoped she was freezing.
    “I’ve met the Gunthers,” she said, and there was a light lilt to her voice, the gentle warning. “Sam Gunther, and his son, Weyman. A real character, that Weyman—writes sermons for the preacher, twenty dollars apiece.”
    “That so?”
    “Yes. Weyman frightens me, sort of. They seem to have lots of money, the Gunthers. Sam’s really quite a guy. Then there’s the daughter, you know. Lois?”
    “Lois.”
    “I walk with Lois almost every day.”
    “I see.”
    “Al,” she said, “I’m not going to leave you alone, understand? We’re going to be right again. We’re together again, and that’s that.”
    I stood up slowly, watching her.
    “Al, this town’s scared about your coming like this. They hate you—they really hate you.” She shook her head slightly, her tone serious. “Al, why did you come back here—why?”
    “I can’t tell you that,” I said, and for a moment she was the Noraine that had meant so much to me, lonely and pursued in the midst of her own pursuing. “I only know I had to come back.”

TWO
    The house creaked and now rain fell outside in the deep grass. She did not move; her lips were slightly parted, hair thickly curling along her cheeks, her body hunched under the coat.
    She looked down, sighed deeply, turned away, then stood there with her back turned. I held the beam of the flashlight on the floor and reflected light paled the room, the old furniture, the fallen draperies.
    “Noraine,” I said, “go away. Go to a place where people know you and settle down.”
    “Where are you going to stay?” she asked.
    “Right here.”
    She turned and looked at me. “What about us?”
    I just looked at her.
    “Al—you don’t belong here. Don’t you know that?”
    “No.”
    “You’re crowding something that doesn’t exist,” she said. “You’re pushing too hard—you always did.”
    “Will you leave me