I Am the Messenger

"Sarah," I ask, "that's that tall, brown, pretty one?"

"That's her," Marv confirms. "After what she said, I drove into the city a few times. Once I even had ten grand in my pocket--to help out. That's all I want, Ed."

"I believe you."

Solemnly, he rubs his face and says, "I know. Thanks."

"So you've never even seen the kid?"

"No. I never have the neck to even turn onto the street--I'm pathetic." He begins to chant. "Pathetic, pathetic," and gently, fiercely, he beats his fist on the wheel. I expect him to explode, but Marv can't find the strength for any outflow of emotion. He's past that. For three years, since that girl left, his front has been impeccable. Now it peels from his skin, leaving the truth of him at the wheel of his car.

"This"--he shakes--"this is what I look like at three a.m., Ed. Every morning. I see that girl--that dirt-poor, spectacular girl. Sometimes I walk to that field and sink to my knees. I hear my heart beating, but I don't want to. I hate my heartbeat. It's too loud in that field. It falls down. Right out of me. But then it just gets back up again."

I hear it.

I imagine it.

His legs yield.

His trousers scratch the dirt.

Kneeling there with earth-bruised knees and a collapsing heart.

It hits the ground next to him, hard, and it...

Beats. Beats.

Beats.

It refuses to die or run cold, always finding its way back into Marv's body. But one night, surely, it has to succumb.

"Fifty grand," Marv tells me. "I'm stopping at fifty. At first it was ten, then twenty, but I just couldn't stop."

"Paying off the guilt."

"That's right." He tries to start the car a few times, and eventually we head off. "But it isn't money that'll fix me." He stops in the middle of the road. The brakes burn, and Marv's face ignites. "I want to touch that kid...."

"You have to."

"There are plenty of ways to do it," he says.

"But only one," I reply.

Marv nods.

When he drops me back home, the night has turned cold.

"Hey, Marv," I say just before I get out.

He looks into me.

"I'll come with you."

His eyes close.

He goes to speak but can't. It's better unsaid.

Tomorrow is the day.