Exiles in America(38)

pink leotard and red skirt, watching television. Jocko was stretched out beside

her, his head in her lap, happily being petted. He guiltily cut his eyes at his so-

called master as Zack entered. Jocko was much too friendly to make a good

watchdog.

The girl studied Zack. She had black hair in bangs and large, slightly

hooded eyes, like a Hummel.

“Hello there?” said Zack. He never knew how to talk to children. Kids

were Daniel’s department.

“Maman!” the girl shouted. “Il est ici!”

The washing machine churned loudly in the next room. A woman stuck

her head around the corner, a beautiful hawklike woman with glasses. Elena

Rohani.

She glared at Zack as if he were the trespasser.

And Zack thought: She is here to confront me about Daniel and her hus-

band.

8 6

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

“Nobody was home,” she said. “But your door was unlocked. So I let my-

self inside. To do our laundry. As you said we could.”

She pretended to be in the right but was clearly flustered.

“You told Daniel you were coming over?”

She frowned at the mention of Daniel. “No. I called, and nobody was

home. So I took my chance. Mina helped me to carry it over. We have gone

too long and there was too much. Dirty clothes. I hope you do not mind.”

“Uh, no. Not at all. Make yourself at home.”

“I already have.” And she laughed, a disarming cackle.

She wasn’t here about Daniel? Good. Did she even know? Zack’s relief at

understanding this was only about laundry gave way to fresh anxiety. What

did she know? What kind of game would he have to play not to spill the

beans? Damn Daniel. Zack was furious with Daniel for sticking him in this

predicament.

Thank God the little girl was here. They wouldn’t be able to say anything.

“You seem to have found a buddy,” he told the child.

The little girl nodded. “She loves me,” she confidently declared.

“Jocko loves everyone,” said Zack. “And it’s a he.”

Jocko looked nervous knowing he was being discussed.

“My name is Zack. What’s your name?”

“Mina.” She turned to her mother and spoke to her in French.

Elena replied in French, then added, “Speak English. You must practice,

and people will think we are keeping secrets.” She turned to Zack. “She

wanted to know if she could borrow your poodle. I told her no. The poodle is

yours and this is his home and we must leave the poodle where he lives.”

It sounded like a pointed parable, but maybe not. Zack decided to let

sleeping dogs lie, as it were.

“You figured out how everything works?” he asked. “And you have every-

thing you need? Soap and bleach and all that?”

“We brought our own. We are fine. I hope we do not disturb you being

here?”

“Not at all. I have a patient coming at five, but we’ll be upstairs and can’t

hear you.”

“That is right. You have your office here.”

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

8 7

“Yes. Upstairs. Just off the living room.”

“I have never seen a psychiatry office. Can you show me?”

Zack was caught off guard.

“The load has another twenty minutes,” she explained. “And Mina is

watching her television show. What are you watching, bébé ?”

“Powerpuff Girls.”

“Ah. It is her favorite cartoon. She will be fine,” she told Zack. “Okay

then? I want to see your office.”

“Uh, sure.”

Damn Daniel, thought Zack again as he led the woman upstairs. He has

his fun with the husband and leaves me to deal with the wife.

Elena followed Zack through the living room to the office. She glanced

around as she eased herself into Zack’s chair. “No couch like Sigmund

Freud?”

“I had one for years, but people down here never used it. And it made

them nervous, so I retired it to our guest room.” Zack sat in the other chair,

the chair for his patients.

“You miss your New York sophisticated patients?”

“Sometimes.” She wasn’t going to talk about it? Maybe she didn’t know.

“I can’t say my New York patients were more sophisticated. But they’d see

plays and operas and want to talk about those. Which I enjoyed. Here the

common language is TV. But I can work with that, too. It’s a different kind of

dream, that’s all. But now I watch lots of bad TV so I can speak their lan-

guage.”

“I have been watching, too. To improve my English.”

“Your English is quite good.”

“But I do not dream in English. I cannot write poetry in English. I am still