Wilderness

Janet said, "What are you doing here? Did you have your appointment?"

"Yeah," Newman said. "I had it. It went okay. They were a little upset, but nothing they could do."

Margie was small and very slim with perfectly black hair and good features. She was much younger than Janet. "Anything wrong?" she said.

"No," Janet said. "Just some business that had to be done. It involved returning some merchandise and I was afraid it could be unpleasant." She smiled. "That's why I had Aaron do it."

"Man's work," he said. They were very liberated here in the English department. He loved to scandalize them. If only mildly. "How about you and me, little lady, we go down to Chris's Place and have a few drinks and di

"So drive down, meet me there. Or drive down in the jeep with me and we'll come back and get your car."

"I'm not riding in the jeep and having my hair blow all over the place."

He took a big breath. "Okay, then, ride down in your car and meet me."

"Okay, but I'll be late. There's a curriculum committee meeting and it's important. I won't be able to get there for another hour."

"Course, don't want to miss that curriculum committee meeting. Probably couldn't have it without you. What are you going to do at this meeting, plan the next meeting?"

"Aaron, don't be a pain in the ass. You go down and have a few beers with Chris and I'll come down after our meeting."

"Yeah, okay, when can I expect you? You know how you are." He looked at the two men. One was tall and willowy with a full beard and small round gold-rimmed glasses. The other was middle-sized and trim with a European-cut three-piece suit and a Phi Beta Kappa key on his watch chain. Half his salary on the goddamned suit.

"I'll be there in an hour, I already said that. The meeting will have to end at six because people have classes at six-thirty. Go ahead.

I'll be there." He nodded, smiled at the four of them, and turned to go. He paused next to the medium man in the three-piece suit. "Charles," he said.

"You are a regular fashion plate."

He was close to Charles and was aware of how much bigger he was than Charles. He wanted Charles to feel that, to let the sense of his mass sink in. Charles smiled vaguely.

"I wish I could dress as you do, Aaron, and stay home all day and cash big checks, but some of us aren't so lucky, or talented, maybe." Newman gri

CHAPTER 5.

At forty-seven Chris Hood stood six feet tall and weighed 190. He had a black belt in karate, could bench-press 375 pounds. The skin on his body was too tight to pinch. In 1950 he had jumped into Wonson, Korea, with the Second Ranger battalion, been captured, escaped, returned to his unit, and won the Distinguished Service Cross. From 1956 to 1959 he returned punts and kickoffs for the Detroit Lions. He had been cut six weeks before he qualified for a pension. He came back to Boston and worked as a bartender and a bouncer in several different clubs and finally in 1976 opened a heavily mortgaged pub restaurant in the area of Quincy Market. He sat at the bar with Newman and sipped Perrier water with a twist of lime while Newman drank Beck's beer.

"Janet coming down?" he said.

Newman said, "Yes. She's got a meeting first."

The room was dim and air-conditioned. The bar itself was mahogany.

Behind the bar on the wall above the display of bottles was the mounted head of a grizzly bear Hood had shot in Alaska.

"Hear anything from Kathy?" Newman said.

Hood laughed. "Every time I'm a day late with the alimony."

"How're the kids?"

"Okay, I guess." Hood looked at the grizzly head on the wall. "I don't see much of them, to tell you the truth. You hear from Karen?" "Yeah," Newman said. "She's in Amsterdam. And next week she's going to Paris."

"When's she get back?"

"September, just before school starts."

"How about Sandy?"

"She's in Cleveland, she's dancing in a road company revival of Carousel. They're supposed to be in Boston in November and she says she'll be able to come home a couple of days."

Hood looked at Newman's glass, saw it was empty and nodded at the bartender. He brought a new bottle.

"Your kids are doing good," Hood said. "They're going where they want to. They're learning what they like. They're not hung up on supposed to and all that shit, You and Janet have done a good job. Hope Kathy doesn't fuck mine up."

Hood had a dark, thick moustache. His hair was curly and short with no gray in it. He wore blue-tinted aviator glasses.

Newman drank half his beer at a swallow. "You killed people in Korea, right?"

Hood nodded. "Sure," he said. "We were supposed to. Didn't you?"

Newman shook his head. "No. I don't think so. There were some skirmishes and stuff, but I don't think I ever shot anyone."

"Just like hunting," Hood said. "Nothing personal. You get in a fire fight and it's kind of fun. It's exciting. Unless you get killed."

Newman drank the rest of his beer. The bartender brought another.

"Ever kill anyone except in Korea?"

Hood raised his eyebrows. "Nice question," he said. "If I had would I admit it?"

Newman said, "No, I guess you wouldn't. Do you think you could?"

"Kill someone, sure. If I had a reason. You got someone in mind? I get through here at three."

Two women came into the bar. One wore white pants and a blue-striped halter top that showed a lot of cleavage. The other had on a denim jumpsuit with rhinestone trim and a pair of sling-strap high heels. The cuffs of her pants were rolled up in a six-inch-wide turn. They sat in a booth behind Newman and Hood and looked for a long time at Hood.

"They're both looking at you, Chris," Newman said. "Must have seen my wedding ring."

Hood turned and looked steadily at both women for perhaps a minute.

Both of them reddened. One said, "What are you looking at?" Hood said, "I'm not sure," politely and turned back toward the bar.

The bartender brought Newman another beer and, looked at Hood's glass of half-drunk Perrier. Hood shook his head slightly and the bartender went away.

"Three billion people in the world," Newman said, "and I end up living next to a guy who looks like Robert Redford."

"He's blond," Hood said.

"Oh yeah."

"You look like you've lost a little weight," Hood said.

"Oh yeah, maybe a few pounds. I'm fighting it all the time. You know what happened to me last night?"

"You got laid?" "No." Then he told Hood everything that had happened. He spoke softly, leaning toward Hood so that no one would hear him. And he spoke rapidly but with very little inflection. Hood listened and said nothing.

"I'm out taking a pleasant little run for my weight and my health, you know. And now gangsters are threatening me and tying up my wife and I don't know what the fuck to do. I mean, Ru

"So that's why you were asking me about killing people."

Janet Newman came in the front door wearing huge sunglasses with wire rims, and walked the length of the bar, slowly, as her eyes adjusted to the light. She had on a white gauze dress and black high heels and carried a black shoulder bag. Three men at the bar turned to watch her walk past. When she reached them she kissed Hood on the cheek and slid in beside Newman.

"Not bad for an old broad," Hood said.