Perfect, Alan thought. "Perfect. We'll all be equally displeased with
this, then. The skating's out in front of City Hall. There are lots of
people there, and we can take the subway down. We'll have dinner
afterward on Queen Street, then turn in early and get a good night's
sleep. Tomorrow, we'll negotiate something else. Maybe Chinatown and the
zoo."
They are stared at him.
"This is a limited-time offer," Alan said. "I had other plans tonight,
you know. Going once, going twice --"
"Let's go," George said. He went and took his brothers' hands. "Let's
go, okay?"
They had a really good time.
#
George's body was propped up at the foot of the bed. He was white and
wrinkled as a big toe in a bathtub, skin pulled tight in his face so
that his hairline and eyebrows and cheeks seemed raised in surprise.
Alan smelled him now, a stink like a mouse dead between the gyprock in
the walls, the worst smell imaginable. He felt Mimi breathing behind
him, her chest heaving against his back. He reached out and pushed aside
the wings, moving them by their translucent membranes, fingers brushing
the tiny fingerlets at the wingtips, recognizing in their touch some
evolutionary connection with his own hands.
George toppled over as Alan stepped off the bed, moving in the twilight
of the light from under the bathroom door. Mimi came off the bed on the
other side and hit the overhead light switch, turning the room as bright
as an icebox, making Alan squint painfully. She closed the blinds
quickly, then went to the door and shot the chain and the deadbolt
closed.