O l i v e r B e n j a m i n
as easily as some. Still later, with pain beating like a thousand
tympanis on his skull, he peeled himself off the floor, tearing that odd
bond created when skin, sweat and linoleum combine. He was
reminded of the time he had gone to a party and passed out on the
toilet: the angry guests pounding at the door caused him to jump so
abruptly that he tore a layer of skin from his buttocks.
“So many fond memories,” he said. “Perhaps there will be more,
and I will be a richer man for them. Perhaps rich enough to afford a
bottle of sleeping pills and a package of single-edged razors.”
The ringing of the doorbell snapped him out of his reverie.
“Who could that be at this hour?” he said, though it was well into
the afternoon. Harvey shuffled to the door and opened it.
“Hiya Harv. Bob here.”
“I can see that. This is reality, not a video game. In reality, you
exist. You have shape, form, annoyance. In reality there are
consequences. You have chosen to bother me. And behold, I am
bothered.”
“Um, yeah,” Bob floundered, trying to make sense of Harvey’s
diatribe, “Well, just wanted to know if you wanted some chocolate
sandwiches. We’re barbecuing over at our house and there’s plenty to
go around. I know you’ve been feeling bad lately.”
Harvey’s eyes fell out of focus and then came back again.
“And how would you know that?”
“Well, there’s the crying and screaming. And your yard. I had a
hard time getting to the front door.”
“Listen to me, scalawag,” he said, “My problems are mine, not
yours. I’m sure you have plenty of your own regardless. Regarding
your dinner party, however, I must decline. But should you find a
good bottle of scotch, please bring it to me at once. It might have a
bad effect on your feeble mind. As your accidental friend, I insist on
protecting you from probable brain death.”
“That’s nice of you, Doc,” Bob replied, touched, “My folks
never
cared about me like that. Did I ever show you the scar I got when my
dad forgot to tie up the new dog? Here, check it out—”
“I think I’ve already seen enough of your deformities. Now,
please go away.”
The door slammed and Dr. Harvey Futterman returned to his
kitchen, feeling somewhat better.
Bob walked down the narrow lane that separated his buddy Harvey’s
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