He wanted Roy to laugh, too, treating his confession as a joke. But Roy
only nodded. “It will come back,” he said. “It always comes back.”
“Lust? You make it sound like Lassie.”
“Oh yes. ‘Lassie, come home.’ ” Roy looked more concerned. “You are
not afraid you’ll lose Daniel?”
“Not at all. It’s only sex. We have a hundred other things connecting us.
He and his new friend will bonk a few times, for a few months, until their sex
loses its magic. The end.”
“And if it doesn’t lose its magic?”
“It always does,” Zack said firmly. “Please, Roy. We don’t have to talk
about me. I’m aware of the dangers here. The patient is the one with the ill-
ness, remember? And I’m fine. Really. This might look dangerous from the
outside, but it works.”
Roy gave in with a friendly shrug. “I am only trying to understand. But you
must get something out of it.” He broke into a grin like a naughty boy. “The
voyeurism? Knowing Daniel is getting naked with this other man. You find
that a turn-on?”
Zack only laughed. “I’m not using them as a masturbation fantasy, if that’s
what you mean.”
“But you do still masturbate?”
Roy was an old-fashioned man at heart, a Brahmin professional, yet he
took perverse pride in his American adaptability, his willingness to say
anything.
“Yes, I masturbate,” said Zack. “Do you?” But he promptly regretted ask-
ing, since Roy was sure to answer.
“I do,” said Roy. “In the shower. And I think about Miss Krasic. Who do
you think about?”
Zack groaned again and grinned. “Roy, I’m not crossing that line. Let’s
keep a couple of secrets, okay?” He stood up to go, chuckling and shaking his
head. “I’ll see you on Thursday.”
13
The trees flew past as Zack pedaled his ten-speed trail bike down the
highway. Cold air combed his beard and fluttered the wool scarf around
his neck. His white medical coat was left at the hospital, and he wore his old
army jacket, so he no longer looked like a doctor but like a local eccentric, an
overaged slacker, a middle-aged hippie on a bicycle.
It felt good to escape the locked doors of Building 2, the sad air of chemi-
cally neutered lives, the overly warm curiosity of Roy Chadha. Zack knew he’d
told Roy too much. One should confide in a friend just to get one’s thoughts
outside one’s head and see what they looked like, but one had to be careful.
Zack shouldn’t have tattled on Daniel—it felt like tattling now—but what really
annoyed him was his confession that he’d said goodbye to sex. Was it true?
He’d told nobody else, not even Daniel. It had been years since he and Daniel
had had sex with each other, but that was different, that was how they lived. Sex
got dispersed in everything else they did. This was not about the act, but about
the feeling, the desire. It was a shameful thing for anyone to admit that he’d said
goodbye to lust, especially a psychiatrist. Maybe that was why he was happy that
Daniel had a new fuck buddy: Daniel was having to screw for them both.
Zack was on Jamestown Road now, starting down the steep hill toward
Lake Matoaka. He had to stop thinking and concentrate on the brakes as the
E x i l e s i n A m e r i c a
8 5
bicycle picked up speed and flew downward. The woods on his left fell
away—there was the lake, cobalt blue in the October afternoon. Then the
slope leveled out and rose again, and he changed gears and pedaled furiously
to climb up the other side. He was almost home.
The truth of the matter was their situation neither worried nor excited
Zack. Things weren’t half as dramatic as Roy imagined. Zack had been here
before. Sex might not interest him, but he wanted Daniel to have fun. He
knew it wasn’t entirely out of love for Daniel; he wanted peace for himself. He
had his own full life to consider: patients to see, Victorian novels to read, this
beautiful fall weather to enjoy. The trees were starting to change color; the
cold air was like soda water. Who needed bodies and orgasms? Well, Daniel
did, obviously. Good for Daniel.
Zack coasted on Indian Springs Road and swung into their driveway. He
rolled downhill to the carport behind the house. The Toyota was gone—
Daniel must have driven to school this morning—but the door to the base-
ment rec room was wide open. Zack leaned his bike against the brick wall,
stepped to the door, and looked in.
A child sat on the floor, a little girl of nine or ten.
Zack had never seen her before. She sat cross-legged by the fireplace in a