Silence. He scanned the aquarium for the verbose eel, but couldn't find him. Change the topic of the bubbles, he thought. Quick.
'Ralph wants to scrap the film,' he said, but she was staring at him. 'You know, Down on the Farm?' he said. 'The new footage was awful. The whole idea is so simpleminded ...'
Tulpen said, 'I know.'
'He talked to you already?' Trumper asked.
'He wants to do a personal film,' she said. 'Right?'
'Right,' he said; he touched her breast, but she moved away, turned her back on him, tucked into a ball.
'Something complex,' Tulpen said. 'Introverted and non-political. Something more private right?'
'Right,' Trumper said, worried. 'I guess he told you more about it than he told me.'
'He wants to make a film about you,' Tulpen said.
'Me?' he said. 'What about me?'
'Something personal,' she mumbled into the pillow.
'What?' Trumper cried. He sat up and roughly rolled her over into his lap.
'About how your marriage busted up,' Tulpen said. 'You know, good description? And about how we're getting along ... now,' she said. 'And interviews with Biggie, how's she living with it, you know? And interviews with me,' Tulpen said. 'About what I think ...'
'Well, what do you think?' he shouted; he was furious.
'I think it sounds like a good idea.'
'For whom?' he said nastily. 'For me? Like some kind of therapy? Like going to a fucking shrink?'
'That might not be a bad idea, either,' she said; she sat up beside him and touched his thigh. 'We've got enough money for it, Trumper ...'
'Christ!'
'Trumper!' she said. 'If you really don't miss her, what's going to hurt about it?'
'It's got nothing to do with hurting,' he said. 'I've got a new life now. Why go back?'
'What sort of new life?' she asked. 'Are you happy, Trumper? Are you going anywhere? Or are you happy where you are?'
'I've got you.'
'Do you love me?' she asked. And he thought of the turquoise eel's bubble for that! - a terrible whirlpool rising, the other fish getting out of its way.
'There's no one else I'd rather be with,' he said.
'But you miss Colm. You miss your son.'
'Yes.'
'Well, you can have another one, you know,' she said angrily. 'Do you want a baby, Trumper? I mean, I could produce one, you know ...'
He looked at her, shocked. 'You want a baby?'
'Do you?' she yelled at him. 'I can give you that, Trumper, but you've got to really want one. You've got to let me know what you want of me, Trumper. You can't just live here if I don't even know you!'
'I didn't know you wanted a baby.'