The Throwback Special Read Online Free Page A

conversation-slaying remark was instead, he now understood by the look on George’s face in the mirror, a generous and provocative strand in the complex braid of their constitutionally protected discourse. Andy could feel George’s excitement emanating wetly from the backseat.
    “I just read a fascinating study,” George said, with the methodical force of a snowplow.
    “George,” Andy said.
    “This lead researcher from the University of Illinois devised an ingenious study. What he did was—”
    “George, are you married?”
    “What?”
    “Are you married?”
    “Yes, by common law.”
    “Well, okay,” Andy said. “I was married, see, and now I’m getting a divorce.”
    George made an extended sympathetic noise in the backseat. In the mirror Andy could see George wincing. “Andy, I’m really sorry to hear that.”
    “Yeah, well.”
    “Hey, man,” George said, leaning forward and reaching his hands around the driver’s seat. His left wrist got tangled momentarily in the seat belt, but eventually he was able to grip the tops of Andy’s arms, and squeeze. Even if Andy had wanted to free himself from George’s grip, he wasn’t sure he could have. He could feel George’s knees in the small of his back. He risked a glance, but George had the crown of his head resting on the back of Andy’s seat, and he was no longer visible in the mirror. “Come here, man,” George said.
    “I’m here,” Andy whispered.
    “Tell me what happened.”
    This was a good configuration for Andy. This could work. As long as the windows remained fogged, as long as the rain made that sound on the thin roof of the car, as long as George’s face was invisible in the mirror, as long as George gripped the tops of his arms and did not try to rub his shoulders, Andy felt that he could talk.
    “One night last February—it was February twenty-third—we had dinner with some friends. There were two other couples there. We were having drinks before dinner. There was one of those uncomfortable lulls in the conversation, so I began to speak, just to end the silence. Another woman began speaking, too, at the same time, but then she laughed and said for me to please go ahead. Iwent ahead, George. I think about that now. I kept talking. I said that I had heard an interesting story on NPR. It was about these dinosaurs called oviraptors. The name means ‘egg thief’ or something.”
    “Yes,” George said slowly. “Egg seizer.”
    “The scientist who discovered and named the oviraptor had found its bones on top of a nest of eggs. He surmised that the dinosaur was snatching these eggs, raiding the nest for food. But now scientists are taking another look at these creatures, and they think maybe this male oviraptor was not stealing the eggs, but maybe he was guarding them, being a good dad. Maybe he was taking care of the nest. And all this time, you know, he’s been getting a bad rap.
    “The other couples nodded and seemed interested. Not interested, maybe, but tolerant, and relieved at least that someone was speaking. Squeeze harder. But my wife was not happy at all. Julie. Her eyes kind of flashed, and she was just grinding cashews in her teeth, just grinding them to dust. She was drunk when we came. I was, too, I guess. She stands up, George. She stands up, puts her empty glass on the mantel, and says to the group that she had also heard an interesting story on NPR.”
    “Oh, no,” George said softly into the fabric of Andy’s seat.
    “Yes, that’s right. She said it was fascinating . It was a follow-up story, she said, about a recent ice storm in the Northeast. And they interviewed a tree expert who said that some of these big old trees—these majestic oaks andelms and pines—these trees, the expert said, could sometimes have up to fifty thousand pounds of ice in them. Fifty thousand. She kept repeating that number. Fifty thousand. And she kind of pursed her lips the way she does, and she tucked her hair behind her ear, and