Upright Beasts Read Free Page B

were much shorter in my borough.
    I spent a lot of time traveling over and under water. There were many bridges and tunnels connecting my borough and the city. I didn’t like going through the tunnels. Sometimes the subway would stop deep underground, and I’d close my eyes and try to think of something other than water rushing in and drowning everyone in the car.
    I’d taken the blue bridge on the subway to get to work. After work, I walked back along the brown bridge. It was a nice day, and the bridge was crammed with people. There were lots of children throwing scraps of food over the railing and down into the water.
    About halfway across the bridge, I thought I saw the bald man, and I turned quickly and tried to duck. A biker was biking past me and shouted out, “You’re going to kill everyone!” He started wobbling but didn’t tip over. A few people yelled at the biker while he was yelling at me.
    I stayed crouching for a few moments. I could see the cars whizzing by beneath me through the slats. There were millions of people in the city, but you just never knew.
    I thought I saw the bald man again that evening. The man I saw was shouting in my direction from up the street, but he had a fedora pulled down low on his head, so I wasn’t sure.
    I stepped into a new cookie shop that had opened on my corner. Before that, it had been a macaron shop, and, when I had first moved in, a cupcake shop. But it had originally been a cookie shop. Things always came around like that in this part of the city.
    I was wrong about the man on the street. He must have been shouting at a cab. The bald man I’d been ducking was inside thecookie shop with a whole stack and a two-thirds empty glass of milk.
    â€œWow,” he said. He jumped out of his chair. “Now this is a coincidence. This has to mean something, right?”
    I thought about leaving, going to the brownie shop next door, but I didn’t want him to think he had that kind of power over me.
    He walked up beside me at the counter. “Hey buddy, I got an idea. Do you like ballgames?”
    The woman at the counter was asking for my order. Her eyeballs rolled in their sockets.
    â€œSure,” I said. “Everyone likes ballgames.”
    â€œLet’s go to the ballgame. You and me. Just two guys watching a ballgame. What’s wrong with that? I got an extra ticket.”
    I didn’t look at him, but I felt his hand on my shoulder. I could tell he was going to keep bothering me. He was like a stray mangy dog I’d unthinkingly fed scraps to.
    â€œJust this once,” I sighed. “One ballgame.”
    The man slapped his hands together and walked toward the door.
    â€œNot now. I want to finish my snack. I came here to have a snack,” I said.
    The man had the door open, and he started to close it. “We’ll miss the first inning,” he said. He looked surprisingly annoyed, but then he cheered up. “That’s okay. The team never gets going until the second or third. Okay. Yeah. I’ll be sitting over there until you’re done.”
    The man led me to a damp parking garage deep underground and unlocked the doors to a beige sedan. He looked at me and started to say something, but he stopped himself. He faced forward and turned on the ignition.
    â€œLet’s just take it slow. One day at a time,” he said.
    â€œSure, whatever you say.”
    We drove up the slanted cement. I stared ahead.
    â€œI only thought we could go to a nice ballgame. Do you like rock ’n’ roll? Let’s listen to some rock ’n’ roll.” At first we were still a few floors too far underground. Then the static broke into clear guitars as we drove onto the street.
    There were bits of trash all over the floor of the car, old snack wrappers and the like. “This is a pigsty. Do you live in here? How old is this car, anyway? It still has a tape player. They don’t even make tapes