Soon it became a regular event in Mort's life that Marah would drop by and
see him around three-thirty every day, as soon as school was over. On
Saturday and Sunday she arrived a little earlier, maybe just after lunch.
The dream didn't come back, and soon her visit became the highlight of his
day, the point around which he structured his other activities. As a new
week began and the days wore on, she began staying a little later each
time, being a little more reluctant to leave, kissing him a little longer
when she said good-bye.
On Friday, at four o'clock, she still hadn't come.
Mort found himself worried, concerned that something might have happened to her, or worse, that she might have decided not to come of her own free will. He wasn't sure which he would rather have be true. The realization that he'd rather have her get hurt than willingly stay away from him made him ashamed, so he resolved to put the whole affair out of his mind. Maybe he would do some work.
He had been staring at a blank screen, pouring the slinky between his hands, for about an hour when the knock came.
He pushed back his chair immediately and went down the stairs two at a time. When he opened the door she was there, smiling as always, but she was unusually beautiful—"even for her," Mort thought. She was wearing a medi-length shiny black skirt and a flowing sheer blouse, embroidered with gold thread. Her midnight black hair shone with the moon's natural highlights. She was wearing a nude-toned but shimmering lip gloss, and dark green eyeshadow gave her a sultry look, even though she looked as sweet as always.
Mort half-smiled, bemused. "You look... nice."
"Thank you."
"You look stunning."
"Thank you," she repeated, her eyes sparkling.
"May I inquire as to the occasion?"
She grinned a little mischievously and took both his hands, stepping closer to him. "We're going out. There's this new show at the theater, I thought you might like it. Supposedly it's brilliantly written."
He cupped her face in his hands, the way he always did. His hands fit there naturally now. "You know I never go into town."
"I know. No time like the present."
He found himself a little annoyed at how light she made of it. "Don't feel like you have to save me from being hated and misunderstood by the ignorant townspeople, alright? I can deal with it"
She stepped past him into the room; he shut the door and turned to face her again. "That's not what I'm doing. I know you can take care of yourself."
"Well, what are you doing?" he asked, a little exasperated.
"I'm going to see a show!" She broke out into a smile again, excitement still glowing in her eyes. She did a little spin that made Mort want to cry and laugh and kiss her until he couldn't breathe. "I want to see this show. I thought you might want to see it too. It'll be fun."
He scratched the back of his neck, began walking toward her. "Marah..."
"Don't get that all-understanding look," she said, laughing. Then she stopped and stared deep into his eyes, dead serious. "I'm not naïve enough to think that I can solve all your problems, I know that if people see us together they'll alienate me rather than accept you. But I don't care. That's their problem. I just don't want to have a secret life. I don't want to have to sneak around, I'm sick of hiding. I'm not ashamed of us."
He shook his head slowly. "They won't just alienate you. They might hurt you. They will hurt you."
"If that happens, I'd rather it happen sooner than later. It'll be all the more dangerous when it does come out, if people feel I've been two-timing them all this time."
"You've thought about this."
"If we keep this secret, people will find out eventually anyway, and they'll feel betrayed and threatened that I've been teaching their children while dating a murderer on the side. And they'll come after both of us. If we make it known now, at least they can't say we're liars."
He sighed and took her hand. "You're right. I think I've known that all along." He twirled her once, and grinned again. "Well, at least I get to show you off."
She rolled her eyes teasingly and they walked out the door, feeling invincible.
They got out of the car in front of the theater, and immediately felt eyes on them, darting hisses of whispers behind their backs and even directly in front of them. Marah drew resolutely closer to Mort, taking his hand. He was surprised and, for a split second, even reluctant to take it. Forget all this logic, this reasoning about better sooner than later. He just wanted to protect her as long as possible from this.
But her hand was there, soft and warm, and after a moment he tightened his grip around hers. They were going to face this together. They walked into the theater, sat down. No one sat around them, even though the theater was packed almost to capacity.
"Great view," said Mort sardonically. She sidled up next to him and smiled. He felt the knot of tension in his chest loosen slightly, and put his arm around her.
The show began, and Mort had to admit that, when he could actually bring himself to focus on it, it was indeed very well-written. At some point, Marah turned her face to him and smiled, a half-incredulous smile, as if she were saying, we're actually here, can you believe it? He bent down and kissed her, and immediately they could hear intense whispering sweeping through the rows behind them. It appeared that more people were watching them tonight than the show.
They walked out and pretended to stroll nonchalantly down the street, not averting their gaze from the people who glared angrily at their daring, but not acknowledging them either.
"Ms. Caraway!" Marah turned at the sound of her name; a little girl was racing toward her, with a big smile on her face. She recognized Kasey, a girl in her class. "Hi!" she said breathlessly as she rushed up. "Guess what? I—"
Marah had barely had time to return the smile when a middle-aged woman rushed up, looking angry and frightened, as if Mort and Marah were planning on kidnapping Kasey for some bizarre sacrificial rite.
"Hello, you must be Mr. Anderson," Marah began to say, with little pretense of being happy to see her, but determined to be civil.
"Kasey," he said urgently under his breath, ignoring Mort and Marah completely, "go back to Mommy and Luke. Now."
Kasey looked bewildered. "But I wanted to tell Ms. Ca—"
"Now. You heard me."
Kasey went, looking back over her shoulder curiously. Mort and Marah were left with a very angry Mr. Anderson.
"I don't know what you're trying to pull," he began, advancing on Marah, his eyes sparking dangerously. Mort stepped forward, pulling Marah slightly behind him.
"We didn't call your daughter over, she just wanted to tell her teacher something. If you've got a problem with that, why don't you go and keep an eye on her instead of trying to pick a fight?" Mr. Anderson's eyes widened slightly at the sound of Mort's voice, and he looked him up and down, sizing him up. Marah stepped forward and spoke again.
"Mr. Anderson," she said firmly, "I believe Kasey's waiting for you."
The man breathed heavily through his nose for a few seconds, like a bull about to charge. The he turned abruptly and left Mort and Marah alone, standing there, attracting the sideways stares of everyone on the block.
"Dinner?" said Mort in a low voice, raising his eyebrows.
Marah shook her head. Enough was enough. "Your place?"
"Let's go." They walked to his car, wondering whether they had won or lost. But once they had gotten in and driven in silence for a minute or so, Marah began laughing. First just a sharp exhalation, then a giggle, then real laughter overflowing with mirth. Mort looked at her, concerned.
"What?"
"People can be so...stupid..." she said, between laughs. "Did you see Mr. Anderson's face..."
After a moment Mort joined her, their laughter ringing inside the metal walls of his car. When they pulled into his driveway, they both stopped suddenly and looked at each other, serious again. They didn't know what would happen tomorrow, whether they could even see each other again without it being dangerous. The people would be keeping track of both of them now.
Marah reached up and touched his cheek. "We did it." There was a trace of sadness in her voice, but her eyes shone nevertheless. "We won."
They pretended things were normal the rest of the night, as they ate and talked. When she finally made to leave, he got up too. "I'll take you home." So far she had always gone by herself, since they hadn't wanted people to recognize his car dropping her off. But now...
"Thanks."
He even walked her to her door and kissed her good-night.
On Friday, at four o'clock, she still hadn't come.
Mort found himself worried, concerned that something might have happened to her, or worse, that she might have decided not to come of her own free will. He wasn't sure which he would rather have be true. The realization that he'd rather have her get hurt than willingly stay away from him made him ashamed, so he resolved to put the whole affair out of his mind. Maybe he would do some work.
He had been staring at a blank screen, pouring the slinky between his hands, for about an hour when the knock came.
He pushed back his chair immediately and went down the stairs two at a time. When he opened the door she was there, smiling as always, but she was unusually beautiful—"even for her," Mort thought. She was wearing a medi-length shiny black skirt and a flowing sheer blouse, embroidered with gold thread. Her midnight black hair shone with the moon's natural highlights. She was wearing a nude-toned but shimmering lip gloss, and dark green eyeshadow gave her a sultry look, even though she looked as sweet as always.
Mort half-smiled, bemused. "You look... nice."
"Thank you."
"You look stunning."
"Thank you," she repeated, her eyes sparkling.
"May I inquire as to the occasion?"
She grinned a little mischievously and took both his hands, stepping closer to him. "We're going out. There's this new show at the theater, I thought you might like it. Supposedly it's brilliantly written."
He cupped her face in his hands, the way he always did. His hands fit there naturally now. "You know I never go into town."
"I know. No time like the present."
He found himself a little annoyed at how light she made of it. "Don't feel like you have to save me from being hated and misunderstood by the ignorant townspeople, alright? I can deal with it"
She stepped past him into the room; he shut the door and turned to face her again. "That's not what I'm doing. I know you can take care of yourself."
"Well, what are you doing?" he asked, a little exasperated.
"I'm going to see a show!" She broke out into a smile again, excitement still glowing in her eyes. She did a little spin that made Mort want to cry and laugh and kiss her until he couldn't breathe. "I want to see this show. I thought you might want to see it too. It'll be fun."
He scratched the back of his neck, began walking toward her. "Marah..."
"Don't get that all-understanding look," she said, laughing. Then she stopped and stared deep into his eyes, dead serious. "I'm not naïve enough to think that I can solve all your problems, I know that if people see us together they'll alienate me rather than accept you. But I don't care. That's their problem. I just don't want to have a secret life. I don't want to have to sneak around, I'm sick of hiding. I'm not ashamed of us."
He shook his head slowly. "They won't just alienate you. They might hurt you. They will hurt you."
"If that happens, I'd rather it happen sooner than later. It'll be all the more dangerous when it does come out, if people feel I've been two-timing them all this time."
"You've thought about this."
"If we keep this secret, people will find out eventually anyway, and they'll feel betrayed and threatened that I've been teaching their children while dating a murderer on the side. And they'll come after both of us. If we make it known now, at least they can't say we're liars."
He sighed and took her hand. "You're right. I think I've known that all along." He twirled her once, and grinned again. "Well, at least I get to show you off."
She rolled her eyes teasingly and they walked out the door, feeling invincible.
They got out of the car in front of the theater, and immediately felt eyes on them, darting hisses of whispers behind their backs and even directly in front of them. Marah drew resolutely closer to Mort, taking his hand. He was surprised and, for a split second, even reluctant to take it. Forget all this logic, this reasoning about better sooner than later. He just wanted to protect her as long as possible from this.
But her hand was there, soft and warm, and after a moment he tightened his grip around hers. They were going to face this together. They walked into the theater, sat down. No one sat around them, even though the theater was packed almost to capacity.
"Great view," said Mort sardonically. She sidled up next to him and smiled. He felt the knot of tension in his chest loosen slightly, and put his arm around her.
The show began, and Mort had to admit that, when he could actually bring himself to focus on it, it was indeed very well-written. At some point, Marah turned her face to him and smiled, a half-incredulous smile, as if she were saying, we're actually here, can you believe it? He bent down and kissed her, and immediately they could hear intense whispering sweeping through the rows behind them. It appeared that more people were watching them tonight than the show.
They walked out and pretended to stroll nonchalantly down the street, not averting their gaze from the people who glared angrily at their daring, but not acknowledging them either.
"Ms. Caraway!" Marah turned at the sound of her name; a little girl was racing toward her, with a big smile on her face. She recognized Kasey, a girl in her class. "Hi!" she said breathlessly as she rushed up. "Guess what? I—"
Marah had barely had time to return the smile when a middle-aged woman rushed up, looking angry and frightened, as if Mort and Marah were planning on kidnapping Kasey for some bizarre sacrificial rite.
"Hello, you must be Mr. Anderson," Marah began to say, with little pretense of being happy to see her, but determined to be civil.
"Kasey," he said urgently under his breath, ignoring Mort and Marah completely, "go back to Mommy and Luke. Now."
Kasey looked bewildered. "But I wanted to tell Ms. Ca—"
"Now. You heard me."
Kasey went, looking back over her shoulder curiously. Mort and Marah were left with a very angry Mr. Anderson.
"I don't know what you're trying to pull," he began, advancing on Marah, his eyes sparking dangerously. Mort stepped forward, pulling Marah slightly behind him.
"We didn't call your daughter over, she just wanted to tell her teacher something. If you've got a problem with that, why don't you go and keep an eye on her instead of trying to pick a fight?" Mr. Anderson's eyes widened slightly at the sound of Mort's voice, and he looked him up and down, sizing him up. Marah stepped forward and spoke again.
"Mr. Anderson," she said firmly, "I believe Kasey's waiting for you."
The man breathed heavily through his nose for a few seconds, like a bull about to charge. The he turned abruptly and left Mort and Marah alone, standing there, attracting the sideways stares of everyone on the block.
"Dinner?" said Mort in a low voice, raising his eyebrows.
Marah shook her head. Enough was enough. "Your place?"
"Let's go." They walked to his car, wondering whether they had won or lost. But once they had gotten in and driven in silence for a minute or so, Marah began laughing. First just a sharp exhalation, then a giggle, then real laughter overflowing with mirth. Mort looked at her, concerned.
"What?"
"People can be so...stupid..." she said, between laughs. "Did you see Mr. Anderson's face..."
After a moment Mort joined her, their laughter ringing inside the metal walls of his car. When they pulled into his driveway, they both stopped suddenly and looked at each other, serious again. They didn't know what would happen tomorrow, whether they could even see each other again without it being dangerous. The people would be keeping track of both of them now.
Marah reached up and touched his cheek. "We did it." There was a trace of sadness in her voice, but her eyes shone nevertheless. "We won."
They pretended things were normal the rest of the night, as they ate and talked. When she finally made to leave, he got up too. "I'll take you home." So far she had always gone by herself, since they hadn't wanted people to recognize his car dropping her off. But now...
"Thanks."
He even walked her to her door and kissed her good-night.