loving him like a prophet. Halting and awkward, he began to come
back like a car radio after a lonely trip through the desert. He reached
up instinctively and Sprout was there to hold him. She cradled him in
her arms and tried to be exactly whatever it was that he needed her
to be.
Too much truth, Sprout thought. Who needs it?
Roy caught up with Leona, nearly tackling her to stop her charging
down the street. Passersby looked over, wondering if he were trying
to harm her. At this point Leona wondered the same thing.
“Get out of here,” she said, pushing him away, “Don’t try to
mollify me.”
“Leona,” Roy started.
“Excuse me. Is this man trying to hurt you?” an imposing, well-
dressed passerby asked.
“It seems that way,” Leona said.
“Please step away from the lady,” the man said, brandishing an
umbrella.
Roy rolled his eyes. “What the hell are you doing with that? There
isn’t a fucking cloud!”
“The forecast calls for rain,” the man said sternly, “It also calls for
you to leave this woman alone.”
Perhaps the man had been watching too many action films. Then
Roy realized: after making love with Sprout, and a bit disheveled, he
had thrown on some old work-clothes. Now he was standing in the
middle of a busy shopping district, a black man in bare feet, looking
to this businessman exactly like an insane vagrant pestering a
pedestrian.
“Oh for fuck’s sake. Leona, will you tell Mr. Bond who I am?”
“Sure,” she said, “This is a steaming sack of shit. Allow me to
cordially introduce you.”
“Do you know him?” the man said.
“In the biblical sense. Otherwise, he’s a complete stranger.”
The man sneered disdainfully and walked away.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” Roy assured her.
“If I lost a pound every time someone said that to me,” she
replied, glaring, “then no one would fucking say that to me.”
“This isn’t about that. You know I think you’re beautiful.”
“Crap!” she yelled, “Total crap. I know the line. Everyone’s
beautiful in their own way. The problem is, some ways are the wrong
ABYSSINIA
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