Oh Pure and Radiant Heart, Lydia Millet [top romance novels .txt] 📗

—Yes I would.

—Could I bum one too? asked the teenage girl. —That was my last. I’m all out.

—Certainly, said Oppenheimer, flipping his case open. —May I ask how old you are?

—Fourteen, she said, and plucked two cigarettes out of the platinum.

In the distance Ann could hear a siren as Ben took her by the arm.

—Honey. Can we just move away from the doors here, please? Either the guy’s gonna come barging out or the cops will go barging in. You should move too, he told the teenager.

—He won’t hurt me. I know him from school.

—You know him?

—Yeah, he was always this big crackhead. He dropped out. But he asked me to do it with him one time. He was way old though and he had this real greasy long hair. But now he cut it.

Oppenheimer gazed at her, speechless, and then shook his head as he cupped his hand over his lighter to light her cigarette.

—And you’re fourteen, he repeated. —Should you even be smoking?

—So I got a deathwish. Shoot me.

They moved away from the doors, retreating toward their car. Ann was leaning against the side of it as the squad cars pulled up and four cops jumped out and went in with their guns up.

—They could get shot, said the teenager. —If cops get shot and don’t die? They have to go see a shrink or something. I saw it on Law & Order.

Bradley had ceded his hotel suite to his wife while he met with Szilard. It was already dark outside and the room was sepulchral and dim, lit by bedside lamps and candles and camp lanterns. The overhead was not on.

Ann and Dory sat in the corner quietly on folding chairs while the women filed in. They had promised they were there only as observers and would not interrupt the proceedings, and Dory had brought her camcorder. Ann thought she was paler than usual, flatter. But she lifted the camcorder dutifully and taped the women as they milled around eating shortbread cookies, drinking sugary lemonade from a plastic dispenser and waiting for the arrival of Oppenheimer.

Each woman had brought her own pillow to sit on, and Ann noticed that several were U-shaped.

—Hemorrhoid cushions? whispered Dory.

Oppenheimer was late.

—Would you like me to go check on him? Ann asked Mrs. Bradley finally.

—It doesn’t matter. I know he’s coming, said Mrs. Bradley, and held out the platter of cookies. —We can wait for as long as it takes.

It was almost nine when Oppenheimer stepped through the door, hat in his hand, trailing two Huts with their hands on their sidearms. One of the women crumpled onto the carpet as soon as she saw him, and Ann ran over to help her.

—Is she OK?

—She just fainted, said another woman quietly, staring past them at Oppenheimer, who was apologizing to Mrs. Bradley for the delay. —She is overcome.

The Huts stationed themselves in opposite corners, pulling chairs over to sit on and setting their rifles down across their laps. Standing under a camp lantern suspended from the ceiling Oppenheimer looked older than he had before. At the same time, as always, he looked like a child; his face was lined but his eyes were large. She thought of children with an aging disease. She had seen a documentary about these children, with deep wrinkled pouches under their large eyes.

Against the sliding door that led to the narrow balcony, two older women were holding hands and weeping as they gazed at him.

—I see it, I see it, said one of them, a black woman wearing a flowery dress. —Do you see it?

—I see it, said the other woman, and they both looked at him with tears streaking their cheeks, the white woman shaking her head.

—No involvement! said Dory to Ann. —You promised. Let them take care of her.

The woman who had fainted stirred and opened her eyes as Ann stood up.

—You’ll be OK, said Ann, trying to reassure, and moved back to her chair as the woman moved her head back and forth dizzily.

—I apologize for my lateness, he said to all of them, —I was held up. I plan to speak briefly on our proposal to slow the global proliferation of nuclear weapons and bring about their eventual elimination.

Ben left Larry and Tamika with a pizza box open on their bed and wandered out into the parking lot with his cell phone to call Fermi.

—Room 410, he said, and then waited for what seemed like a very long time.

—He’s not answering, sorry, said the switchboard operator when she came back on.

—Can you try the darkroom?

But Fermi was not in the darkroom either.

—This worries me, said Ben. —Is there someone I can talk to, a nurse or someone with oversight?

When the nurse came on she told him Fermi had the run of the grounds and had not been seen since three.

—You’re not worried? he asked.

—If he’s not in his room by curfew we will send staff to locate him. And if we do not, of course, we will notify you.

—When’s curfew?

—He has another two hours. As you know, we allow a lot of latitude here. The patients who choose to stay with us depend on that.

—Any idea where he could be?

—All these big white birds came down from the sky, she said. —I guess they’re flying south for the winter. He went out to see them.

—Big white birds? There?

—Beside the lake.

—What were they?

—I think he said cranes.

—There are no cranes in this part of the country.

—Oh.

—They could have been herons, maybe. If they had long thin legs?

—Oh, I didn’t actually see them myself.

—I thought you were saying—

—I just took his word for it. He described them to me.

—Yeah. It’s what he’s been saying since he got sick. All about these whooping cranes, these birds that are nearly extinct. He always thinks he sees them.

—I see.

The women started singing before Oppenheimer was even finished giving his speech. He paused to step out onto the balcony and smoke a cigarette and they joined hands