Exiles in America(32)

to-face. Near Philadelphia, he remembered Daniel’s stuff at the apartment

and wondered if he should go back and bring some of it with him. But no,

there’d be other occasions for that, and this way the trip was more irrational,

crazy, and pure.

He made excellent time. It was four o’clock when he pulled into Williams-

burg. He drove around campus until he recognized PBK Hall and parked out

front. He walked around back to the fine arts building and went upstairs to

Daniel’s office. The door was closed and the whiteboard scrawled in grease

pencil: “Wexler Wednesday classes canceled due to family emergency.”

Which startled Zack. Daniel’s mother had been in the hospital back in June,

but she was fine now. An office door across the hall was wide open. Inside sat

Jane Morrison, talking to a female student.

Zack knocked. “Excuse me. Jane? Hi. I’m Zack Knowles, Daniel’s friend.

We met back in September.”

A square-faced woman with big forearms, Jane stared at him in disbelief.

“I remember. Oh my God. Didn’t you get Daniel’s message? He drove back

to New York today.”

“New York?” Daniel’s mom was in Florida.

Jane stole a peek at her student, then decided to continue. “He said you

had a terrible fight over the phone. He couldn’t leave things as they were but

had to make peace with you face-to-face.” She was smiling. “I guess you felt

the same.” She laughed. “That’s very funny. Romantic, but funny, too.”

E x i l e s i n A m e r i c a

7 3

“Very,” said Zack. “Can I use your phone?”

He was tempted to correct Jane, but only for a split second. Because he re-

alized that he wasn’t here to say goodbye. No. He had changed his mind

somewhere on the road. Long before he heard that Daniel was headed back

to New York to fix things, he had decided that he didn’t want them to end.

Watched by Jane and her student, a pretty girl in a green sweatshirt, Zack

called their machine in New York.

“Daniel? Love? It’s me. Great minds think alike, huh? I drove down to

Williamsburg so I could talk to you. And we need to talk. Really talk. I’ll go over to your place and spend the night and expect you back tomorrow. Or whenever

you come home. But drive carefully. Don’t rush. I’ll be here. I promise. Bye.”

Zack thanked Jane for the use of the phone and left.

“Good luck,” said Jane.

“Happy landings,” said the student.

Zack went back to his car and drove across the street to Indian Springs

Road. He assumed that Miss Tolley had the key and could let him into

Daniel’s apartment. But the old lady wasn’t home. And Daniel, a true New

Yorker, had locked his door.

It was the first week of November and chilly outside but warm in the sun.

Zack sat in a white cast-iron chair to wait for Miss Tolley. Red and yellow

leaves blew down from the trees and rolled over the grass. Cats squeezed out

of the boxwood hedge and circled Zack, big black, white, and spotted beasts

with names like Zeus, Athena, and Aphrodite, although Zack didn’t know

which cat was which.

Such a pretty place, he thought. Such a pretty turn of events. He went

south and Daniel went north. They really were a couple, weren’t they? But

they were like a couple in a toy weather house, where one comes out for shine

and the other for rain and the two never appear at the same time. Zack had

driven down to say goodbye but had changed his mind. Daniel seemed to

have known all along that they belonged together, but Daniel often knew

these things more quickly. Maybe he was more body than mind.

All right, if Daniel wanted a new life, Zack could give it to him—so long as

Zack could be part of it. Zack too was tired of New York. He could start all

over. He could build a practice here; there must be a few unhappy people. He

7 4

C h r i s t o p h e r B r a m

loved the smell of the trees in this yard, a rich, sweet ferment like old apples

or rotting wood, like the smell of a grandmother’s house. Indian Springs Road

was a street of cozy, old grandmother houses. Zack wondered how difficult it

would be to buy one. A sentimental notion, and Zack knew not to take it se-

riously, even before he noticed the circle of cats at his feet, lying on the grass

with folded forearms, skeptically watching him.

He heard the phone ring inside. He hoped it was Daniel calling from New

York. But the door was locked and Zack couldn’t get inside. He could only press

his ear to the cold glass. He heard the machine pick up, a sharp beep followed

by a muffled, mumbled message. He had to imagine what Daniel was saying:

Where are you? Why aren’t you here? Where did you go? What are we doing?