Tales of the City 08 - Mary Ann in Autumn

postictal period? How would he clear this room while Roman went nuts?
    They’d been lucky so far; the seizures had been at home—or at least inside—so the situation had never arisen. Maybe it never would. Maybe Roman’s morning dose of potassium bromide would be enough to keep the beast within him at bay. The main thing was that the seizures not be allowed to come too close together. Otherwise they would begin to dig a sort of neural trench that would make it easier and easier for them to happen.
    Ben knew he could easily dig a trench of his own. When it came to dealing with the epilepsy, there was a fine line between caution and constant dread, and it would cheat them both if he crossed it. He wanted to share his life with Roman. He would not be one of those fretful neurotics who robbed their dogs of all spontaneity and fun.
    •••
    R OMAN RETRIEVED THE BALL AT least a dozen times before taking time out to slurp water from a bowl at the entrance to the park. Blossom, meanwhile, had joined Cliff at his bench at the end of the park. She was sitting at the old man’s feet, barking insistently, though Cliff seemed oblivious to it. His hands were clamped to his knees, and he was rocking slowly back and forth, as if keeping time to his own private dirge.
    He was crying, Ben realized. Sobbing.
    Ben got up and walked casually in Cliff’s direction. He didn’t want to draw attention to the old man’s state, but he couldn’t ignore it, either. As he drew closer, he could hear Cliff’s whimpering—a terrible sound, like an animal caught in a trap. He sat down next to the old man and laid his hand lightly on Cliff’s back.
    The sobbing continued, as if Cliff were still alone.
    “Is there something I can do?” Ben asked finally.
    The old man shook his head, then wiped his eyes with the sleeve of his parka. “It’s too late for that. It’s too late for everything.”
    “Would you like to talk about it?”
    Blossom was barking again, so Cliff scooped her into his arms and petted her, obviously trying to compose himself. “My wife is dead,” he said at last.
    “Oh, damn … I’m so sorry.”
    “I got the word this afternoon.”
    “Was it … a natural death?” That came out sounding totally awkward, but Ben thought it would have been rude to ask if Cliff’s wife had died of old age.
    “I don’t know what it was,” said Cliff. “They didn’t tell me.”
    Ben was remembering what Cliff had said earlier at the Y—that his wife hadn’t been “with him” for a while. “I take it she wasn’t living with you?” he said.
    Cliff shook his head. “No. But that wasn’t my doing. That’s the way she wanted it. She started using drugs … a few years after we got married. She ended up needing the drugs more than she needed me. She just went off the rails and never came back.”
    Ben nodded. What could you say about that?
    “I tried to give her a good life.”
    “I’m sure.”
    “We had one, too, for a good little while.” Cliff pulled the terrier closer until she was licking the side of his face. “Didn’t we, Blossom? We were a family back then.”
    Ben found himself moved by this flash revelation of Cliff’s domestic life. “How did you meet?” he asked, trying to draw the old man out of his suffering.
    “She was working in a shoe store in West Portal. I was looking for some shoes. Prettiest thing you ever saw. Black hair. Green eyes.”
    “How old was she?”
    “Um … thirty.”
    “And this was … ?”
    “Ten … twelve years ago.” Cliff gave him a melancholy look that was tinged with a curious sheepishness. “Think I was robbing the cradle?”
    Ben smiled at him. “Not in my book. Love is love. My partner is twenty-one years older than I am.”
    Cliff absorbed that for a moment. “That’s right,” he said.
    This puzzled Ben. “You’ve met him, you mean?”
    “No … but … I think I saw you with him here last summer. Handsome, stocky fellow? Gray mustache?”
    “That’s him.” Ben was still baffled. Michael almost never came to this park. He preferred Stern Grove, out near the ocean, where Roman could run in the grass.
    “It’s good to have somebody,” Cliff said, staring vacantly into the distance. “I never saw my wife anymore … not for years … but just knowing she was still … out there made it a little easier to be alone.” There were fresh tears on the old man’s face, but he didn’t bother to wipe them away. “Funny how that works.”
    Ben