Well, of course it’s unlikely! She turned to face him and flung a lacy trail of suds across the pink bathroom floor. But unlikely things happen, don’t they? Why are you so resistant to the idea?
I don’t know, he said. I’m sorry.
It’s because you don’t want a distraction. You want to focus on that baby. That’s all you think about now. Not me. You want me gone.
That’s not true, he said. You know it’s not true. I think of you all the time. I was holding you, just before, in bed.
You already told me that. Why do you keep mentioning it?
Because it means something.
What?
It means our bodies still want each other. Belong together.
Holding me while we’re asleep doesn’t mean anything. Dogs—those dogs that pull sleds in the snow—they hold each other. They burrow into the snow and hold each other tight.
I don’t think that’s true, the man said. They sleep in the snow, yes, but not together. Each dog sleeps alone. I remember that from The Call of the Wild.
He stood up and for a moment he felt horribly dizzy, as if he might faint, so he reached out and held on to the sink, steadying himself.
The woman turned and looked at him. Are you all right?
After a moment he said, Yes. Just dizzy. And hungry. I’m going down to the bar to get something to eat. Do you want to join me?
No.
Should I bring you something back?
I’d like some yoghurt, she said. I don’t suppose you could find some?
I’ll try, he said. There’s a market around the corner. Anything else?
Oh, there’s lots I want.
Anything that I might be able to get you?
No, she said. There is nothing that I want that you could get me. Besides the yoghurt.
Are you sure? he asked. I might surprise you.
Well, I’d like a perfectly ripe peach and an orchid and some balsam incense and a kitten. I think I might be truly happy if I had those things. With me in the bathtub. Well, maybe not the kitten.
So you’re sending me on a treasure hunt. Shall I also bring you a goose that lays golden eggs?
I’d like that very much, she said. Can you imagine how lovely they would be? Golden goose eggs? So warm. I wouldn’t sell them. No. I’d put them up, inside myself, where it’s empty now. Golden eggs. I’m sure I’d have a baby then. A beautiful, golden baby.
Lárus was not tending the bar. His absence surprised the man, who, although he knew it was impossible, believed that Lárus never left the bar.
The present bartender was an alarmingly blond woman who wore a tuxedo that fit her with a punishing tightness. She appeared to be unhappy about this, or something else.
A very attractive older couple—seventies, the man thought—sat at the far end of the bar. They were both elegantly and impeccably dressed—the man in a tuxedo and the woman in a long, fitted dress of midnight-blue silk covered by a little jewel-encrusted bolero jacket. She wore a small velvet hat the same color as her dress; a black veil lifted away from her face and perched atop the hat. She held an unlit cigarette in her gloved hand; the man leaned close and whispered avidly into her ear.
The man sat down near the door and when the bartender approached him, brandishing a cocktail napkin, he proudly told her which three small plates he would like to have. And schnapps.
The elegant couple left the bar while the man ate his motley supper. They spoke French, and seemed to be in very high spirits, and the man had the feeling they were going out to some glamorous and splendid event—a first night at the opera, a banquet in honor of a visiting dignitary. But could such an event be happening anywhere in this dreary and frozen little city? As far as the man knew there was no opera house or art museum, no cathedral, no palace, no casino, and he had a wild urge to get up and follow the couple.
After they had left he asked the bartender if there was an opera house in the city, for he felt sure that was the glamorous couple’s destination. But the bartender seemed not to understand him, or at least the words opera house, so he asked about a theater and she said yes, and then, Amour? and the man, supposing that she was alluding to the romance of opera, nodded enthusiastically, and the bartender smiled and hastened behind the upholstered