Sun and Shadow Read Online Free Page B

another flight before he could lower his handicap on the Costa del Sol.

4
    He had locked the apartment door behind him when he came in. Or left the others in the room and did it later, before they’d started, he wasn’t sure. Anybody trying to get out would lose a few valuable seconds.
    He had eaten, he couldn’t remember what. He hadn’t thought about what he was putting into his mouth. She had laughed, once or twice. He, the other one, hadn’t. As if he sensed it ...
    As if he knew who he was. Why he was there.
    Here I am, he thought, sitting. Now I’m speaking. I’m saying words that don’t mean a thing. I don’t know if they’re listening either.
    He could hear the music inside his head. It started soft, got louder, then faded away, got louder again, then softer. It was like being at home, listening, or in the car, but he rarely did it in the car. He didn’t want to drive into a tunnel wall.
    He was listening, that was before it started. Or maybe it started with him listening. He had tried to avoid listening and that had worked for a while but now it was impossible. And it didn’t matter now, now that he was sitting here. He looked around the kitchen. They’d asked if he wanted to sit in the kitchen and he’d shrugged. Then we’ll move into the living room later, she’d said in a tone of voice that had made him feel cold inside his head as the music got first louder, then softer. He wondered if they saw that, if they’d eventually get around to hearing it, the very moment before it happened.
    The guitars were screeching inside his head. The vocals screeched, rattled, hissed through the music that wouldn’t leave his head: lying in the black field, memories start to move into my mind, visions of the red room, my bloodied face, her bloodied head.
    Visions of the red room. He closed his eyes. He grew more excited. She noticed that and smiled. She had no idea. The man seemed to be fidgeting but gradually started to fade away, to turn into a shadow. When he looked at her she too started turning into a shadow. It was time.
    She spoke.
    “What?”
    “Hello! Anybody home?”
    “What ... yes ...”
    “You look miles away”
    “No ... I’m here.”
    “You were moving your head as if you were listening to something. Inside your head.”
    “Yes.”
    “Can we listen too?” she said with a grin. The other man didn’t laugh. He looked straight at him, as if he could see them sitting there, playing inside his head. “What’s it sound like?” she asked, getting up and walking around to him and leaning against his ear. He could feel her weight and the strong smell of alcohol on her breath. They’d been drinking before he arrived. He hadn’t touched a drop. Not then and not now. “I can’t hear anything,” she said, leaning more heavily against him; then she kissed him. He could feel her inside his mouth. He didn’t move. “What’s the matter with you?” she said. “Aren’t you feeling excited ?” She turned to the other man. “He doesn’t seem to be very excited. I thought he was a swinger.”
    The other man said nothing. He was still scrutinizing him. Maybe it didn’t mean anything.
    She left the kitchen. When she returned there was music coming from another room. He didn’t want to look at her. He could see a bit of her exposed skin.
    “What do you think of that?” she asked.
    “Eh? What?”
    “The music,” she said. “The music! I thought we could all listen to something!”
    He tried to listen but no sound could penetrate the metal screeching inside his head.
    She shouted something, started wiggling in a sort of dance.
    She dragged the other man to his feet, kissed him. Glanced over toward him. She started unbuttoning the other man’s shirt and put his hand on her left breast. Moved in time with the music. Laughed again.
    “Elton John!” she yelled. “It’s swinging!”
    He suddenly felt sick and at the same time extremely aroused. They were both looking at him. The other man