The Free (P.S.) Read Online Free

prostitute.”
    “Isn’t New York cold this time of year?” she said in the low voice. “Maybe you should wait until it’s spring.”
    “Spring, you think?”
    “Yeah, spring’s a good time to walk the streets.”
    “Thanks for the advice, Dad. You really are something. You’re always such a help.”
    “That’s why I’m here,” she said in the man’s voice and hit the table.
    Her father stopped eating and looked at her. “Okay, I’m sorry.”
    “You’re an asshole.”
    “I didn’t mean to be an asshole.”
    “When you’re an asshole, you’re an asshole. It doesn’t matter if you want to be or not. You just are. The trick is not to be.”
    He pushed the bowl away. “Okay, I’m sorry.”
    “It’s alright,” she said and sighed. “I guess I’m just in a bad mood. You done?”
    “I’ll finish the rest later.”
    “What about the lettuce? You’ve only had one bite.”
    “I hate vegetables.”
    “I don’t think you can consider iceberg lettuce much of a vegetable.”
    “You know what I mean.”
    “So you’re finished?”
    He nodded and she took the dishes from the table and set them in the sink. “Now put on your shoes and let’s go for a walk. I only have an hour before I have to go to work.”
    “Can I bring my cigarettes?”
    “Yeah,” she said. “I started again, so you’re off the hook.”

4
    Leroy Kervin woke up to the sound of the TV. There was a Western on; a kid was AWOL from the cavalry and was killing Indians. A man with one leg was trying to stop him, but he was having a hard time. He watched the show for a moment then fell back to sleep. The next time he woke it was to the sound of crying. He opened his eyes to see a brown-haired nurse in the corner of the room. She stared out the window into the parking lot. It was night and the main room lights were off. He could hear her sobs and could see her wiping her tears while she looked at her wristwatch. He heard a voice from the hallway call, “Pauline.” The brown-haired nursed replied that she would just be a minute and again looked at her watch. He tried to keep his eyes open, but couldn’t.
    When he opened them the next time it was daylight. He could see the sun from the window and could hear people talking. He saw an old man using a walker go down the hallway and nurses walking past. He could remember that a nurse named Pauline had been in the room crying the last time he was awake. He could remember that a Western was on TV. He still had his memory; he still had clarity. Nothing made sense anymore. He tried to move his hand to hit the call button to let them know the pain he was in, but his fingers wouldn’t move. Everything felt as heavy as concrete. And then the pain worsened. He tried to speak, to scream for help, but nothing would come out. His mind became hysterical while his body lay lifeless.
    His thoughts grew darker. It would be more hospitals, and this time it was his fault. He’d failed; he was to blame. It would be this room and then another and then another and then finally, if he were lucky, he’d be back where he started: at the group home in the suburbs, stuck away forever.
    The pain seemed to stop time. Had he been waiting like this for minutes or hours or days or weeks? It was too much to take and he was so tired of being in pain. He decided then that he would give up, that he would run his mind as far away as he could. He would lose himself inside himself. He would disappear from the world.
     
    It was early morning as he walked down the crowded city street. It was cold and most of the people wore green-and-gray military uniforms. There were hundreds of them passing by in all directions. Leroy looked out to the sea and military ships filled the bay, and on the streets black-and-green military vehicles lined the curbs. He was dressed in his uncle’s Pendleton wool coat as he walked to the National Guard recruiting office. As he drew closer, he saw a woman in a blue parka knocking on the front