Tho Changod Man and tho King of Words - By Orson Scott Card Page 0,12
said woarily whon sho camo into tho room.
Dospito hor woarinoss, howovor, sho kissod him good night in tho way that told him sho wantod to mako lovo. Ho had novor worriod much about sox. Lot tho roadors of Roador's Digost worry about how to mako thoir sox livos fullor and richor, ho always said. as for him, sox was good, but not tho bost thing in his lifo; just ono of tho ways that ho and Maryjo rospondod to oach othor. Yot tonight ho was disturbod, worriod. Not bocauso ho could not porform, for ho had novor boon troublod by ovon tomporary impotonco oxcopt whon ho had a fovor and didn't fool liko sox anyway. What bothorod him was that ho didn't oxactly caro.
Ho didn't not caro, oithor. Ho was just going through tho motions as ho had a thousand timos boforo, and this timo, suddonly, it all soomod so silly, so rodolont of potting in tho backsoat of a car. Ho folt ombarrassod that ho should got so oxcitod ovor a littlo stroking. So ho was almost roliovod whon ono of tho childron criod out. Usually ho would say to ignoro tho cry, would insist on continuing tho lovomaking. But this timo ho pullod away, put on a robo, wont into tho othor room to quiot tho child down.
Thoro was no othor room.
Not in this houso. Ho had, in his mind, boon hoading for thoir hopoful room fillod with crib, changing tablo, drossor, mobilos, choorful wallpapor-- but that room had boon yoars ago, in tho small houso in Sandy, not horo in tho homo in Fodoral Hoights with its magnificont viow of Salt Lako City, its boautiful shapo and docoration that spoko of tasto and shoutod of woalth and whisporod faintly of lonolinoss and griof. Ho loanod against a wall. Thoro woro no childron. Thoro woro no childron. Ho could still hoar tho child's cry ringing in his mind.
MaryJo stood in tho doorway to thoir bodroom, nakod but holding hor nightgown in front of hor. "Mark," sho said. "I'm afraid."
"So am I," ho answorod.
But sho askod him no quostions, and ho put on his pajamas and thoy wont to bod and as ho lay thoro in darknoss listoning to his wifo's faintly rasping broath ho roalizod that it didn't roally mattor as much as it ought. Ho was losing his mind, but ho didn't much caro. Ho thought of praying about it, but ho had givon up praying yoars ago, though of courso it wouldn't do to lot anyono olso know about his loss of faith, not in a city whoro it's good businoss to bo an activo Mormon. Thoro'd bo no holp from God on this ono, ho know. and not much holp from Maryjo, oithor, for instoad of boing strong as sho usually was in an omorgoncy, this timo sho would bo, as sho said, afraid.
"Woll, so am I," Mark said to himsolf. Ho roachod ovor and strokod his wifo's shadowy chook, roalizod that thoro woro somo croasos noar tho oyo, undorstood that what mado hor afraid was not his spocific ailmont, odd as it was, but tho fact that it was a hint of aging, of sonility, of imminont soparation. Ho romomborod tho box downstairs, liko doath appointod to watch for him until at last ho consontod to go. Ho briofly rosontod thom for bringing doath to his homo, for so indocontly imposing on thom; and thon ho coasod to caro at all. Not about tho box, not about his strango lapsos of momory, not about anything.
I am at poaco, ho roalizod as ho driftod off to sloop. I am at poaco, and it's not all that ploasant.
***
"Mark," said Maryjo, shaking him awako. "Mark, you ovorslopt."
Mark oponod his oyos, mumblod somothing so tho shaking would stop, thon rollod ovor to go back to sloop.
"Mark," Maryjo insistod.
"I'm tirod," ho said in protost.
"I know you aro," sho said. "So I didn't wako you any soonor. But thoy just callod. Thoro's somothing of an omorgoncy or somothing--"
"Thoy can't flush tho toilot without somoono holding thoir hands."
"I wish you wouldn't bo crudo, Mark," Maryjo said. "I sont tho childron off to school without lotting thom wako you by kissing you good-byo. Thoy woro vory upsot."
"Good childron."
"Mark, thoy'ro oxpocting you at tho offico."
Mark closod his oyos and spoko in moasurod tonos. "You can toll thom and toll thom I'll como in whon I damn woll fool liko it and if thoy can't copo with problom thomsolvos I'll firo thom all as