Genesis Read Online Free Page B

was no danger, then. They’d not be caught. They could simply drive into the
parking lot underneath the academy, take the elevator to the seventh floor where Freda’s office was, and do their good deed for the night. She could imagine the young man—painfully idealistic, sweet to look at, awkward, grateful, very scared. They could curl him up beneath the car rugs in the back and drive home through all the blocks and barricades, untouched and undelayed, because her Lix, her acting man, would have the passport of a famous face, would have the visa of a celebrated birthmark stamped on his cheek.
    Then, when they were home, in their quiet cul-de-sac with its unprying neighbors, she’d make a fuss over that young man. Find towels, a spare toothbrush, some underwear. She’d cook for him at night, while Lix was at the theater. She’d let him have the run of the house. She had to smile. The very thought of it. She could provide a sanctuary for both of them.
    Mouetta was hospitable and motherly, two undervalued attributes these days. Taking care of people was her public gift. One day, please God, she’d have a child. At thirty-nine she wanted very much to have a child. She’d soon be passing through the Great Stone Gate of forty, beyond which were towns and villages without babies. Stepmothering was not enough for her. Though she was very fond of George and Lix’s children from his first marriage and the “intervening” four-year-old (she loved all but one of them, in fact), they were not hers, not flesh and blood and bone. As anyone with half an eye could tell. Neither was the student hers, of course. But then he wasn’t Lix’s either, and that made a difference. She’d drive this student mad with care as soon as her husband returned to the car and they were summoned to proceed.

    So she was baffled and surprised when Lix slid back into his driver’s seat and said, “There’s no way through. We have to turn around.”
    â€œThey wouldn’t let you through?”
    â€œNo. So it seems.”
    â€œNot even you?”
    â€œThose numskys don’t know me. You think they’re theatergoers? We have to turn around.”
    â€œNot recognized?”
    â€œNot on this occasion. Evidently.”
    â€œSo what do we do about Freda’s student?”
    â€œWhat can we do? Nothing! It’s not my fault. I don’t think it would be sensible to argue with those guys. You want to try?”
    Already he was turning the car into the space they had cleared for him and was nosing through a crowd of appalled, thrilled students standing in the rain with nowhere to spend the night except the streetcar shelters and underneath the bushes in the park. What awful fun.
    â€œWhy don’t you tell them who you are?”
    â€œI promise you it wouldn’t count.”
    â€œWhat now?” Her turn to ask.
    â€œBack home.” A home without houseguests! He stretched a hand across and rested it, palm up, in her lap. Still damp.
    â€œYou’re trembling,” she said.
    They’d not get home that night. There’d be no copulating on the stairs. The Circular was still cordoned off and already flooding, anyway, on the uptown highway, and all the other routes out to the hilltop suburbs where Lix and Mouetta and many of the
rich and famous had their houses were blocked. There’d been a rumor that these houses where the guilty bankers and civic bosses lived would be targeted if things got out of hand down in the city. There were incendiarists about and anarchists, expert in breaching cordons. So the police protection of their home would stop Lix and Mouetta from getting home. Safety at the price of freedom? Another awkward, ancient choice. Besides, here was an unexpected bonus for the uniformed defenders of the city. They could turn the rich and famous into the homeless for the night.
    Lix and Mouetta had traveled twice across the two bridges of