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@@@@@Your feelings are meaningful to you, but they don?t change realityI did not mean to offend you ?And I didn?t mean to mouth offIt?s just that he?s a very special personWhat are your plans? What do you need?? ?I don?t know yet,? answered Bourne?I?ll pick up the car in the Capucines and an hour or so later I?ll know moreWill you be home or at the Deuxi?me Bureau?? ?Until I hear from you I will stay in my flat and near my very unique telephoneUnder the circumstances I prefer that you do not call me at the office ?That?s an astonishing statement ?I don?t know everyone these days at the Deuxi?me, and at my age, caution is not merely the better part of valor, it?s frequently a substituteBesides, to call off my protection so swiftly might generate rumors of senilitySpeak to you later, mon ami Jason replaced the phone, tempted to pick it up again and reach the Pont-Royal, but this was Paris, the city of discretion, where hotel clerks were loath to give information over the telephone, and would refuse to do so with guests they did not knowHe dressed quickly, went down to pay his bill, and walked out onto the rue Gay-LussacThere was a taxi stand at the corner; eight minutes later he walked into the lobby of the Pont-Royal and up to the concierge?Je m?appelle Monsieur Simon,? he said to the man, giving his room number?I ran into a friend last night,? he continued in flawless French, ?and I stayed at her placeWould you know if anyone came around looking for me, perhaps asking for me Bourne removed several large franc notes, his eyes telling the man he would pay generously for confidentiality?Or even describing someone like me,? he added softly ?Merci bien, monsieurI will check further with the night concierge, but I?m sure he would have left a note for my personal attention if someone had come here seeking you ?Why are you so sure?? ?Because he did leave such a note for me to speak with youI?ve been calling your room since seven o?clock this morning when I came on duty ?What did the note say?? asked Jason, his breathing on

@@@@@And I didn't go far, no Great Beach Walk that day, I wanted to make sure I could get back to my crutch, but that was still the firstI remember turning around and marveling at my own footprints in the sandIn the morning light each left one was as firm and bold as something produced by a stamping-pressMost of the right ones were blurry, because I had a tendency to drag that foot, but setting out, even those had been clearI counted my steps backThe total was thirty-eightBy then my hip was throbbingI was 99 more than ready to go in, grab a yogurt cup from the fridge, and see if the cable TV worked as well as Jack Cantori claimed iii And that became my morning routine: orange juice, walk, yogurt, current eventsI became quite chummy with Robin Meade, the young woman who anchors Headline News from six to ten AMBoring routine, right? But the surface events of a country laboring under a dictatorship can appear boring, too - dictators like boring, dictators love boring - even as great changes are approaching beneath the surface A hurt body and mind aren't just like a dictatorship; they are a dictatorshipThere is no tyrant as merciless as pain, no despot so cruel as confusionThat my mind had been as badly hurt as my body was a thing I only came to realize once I was alone and all other voices dropped awayThe fact that I had tried to choke my wife of twentyfive years for doing no more than trying to wipe 100 the sweat off my forehead after I told her to leave the room was the very least of itThe fact that we hadn't made love a single time in the months between the accident and the separation, didn't even try, wasn't at the heart of it, either, although I thought it was suggestive of the larger problemEven the sudden and distressing bursts of anger weren't at the heart of the matter That heart was a kind of pulling-awayI don't know how else to describe itMy wife had come to seem like someoneMost of the people in my life also felt other, and the dismaying thing was that I didn't much careIn the beginning I had tried to tell myself that the otherness I felt when I thought about my wife and my life was probably natural enough in a man who sometimes couldn't even remember the name of that thing you pulled up to close your pants - the zoomer, the zimmer, the zippity-doo-dahI told myself it would pass, and when it didn't and Pam told me she wanted a divorce, what followed my anger was reliefBecause now that other feeling was okay to have, at least toward herNow she really was 101 othe

@@@@@ I murmured the words in a daze ?Eat something,? Ian urged?You'll worry him if he sees you like this I rubbed my eyes, trying to think straightThere was nothing to treat him with hereNo options but waiting to see if his body could heal itselfAnd if it couldn't? ?No,? I gasped I felt as if I were standing on the edge of Walter's grave again, listening to the sound of sand falling into the darkness ?No,? I moaned, fighting against the memory I turned mechanically and started walking with stiff strides toward the exit ?Wait,? Ian said, but he didn't pull against the hand he still held Jeb caught up to me on the other side and shoved more food into my free hand ?Eat for the kid's sake,? he said I bit into it without tasting, chewed without thinking, swallowed without feeling the food go down ?Knew she was gonna overreact,? Jeb grumbled ?So why did you tell her?? Ian asked, frustratedI wondered why he didn'tWas this worse even than I imagined? ?Is he in the hospital?? I asked in an emotionless, inflectionless voice ?No, no,? Ian assured me quickly I didn't even feel relief I would have gone into that room again for Jamie, even if it was still reeking of blood I didn't see the familiar caves I walked throughI barely noticed that it was dayI couldn't meet the eyes of any of the humans who stopped to stare at meI could only put one foot in front of the other until I finally reached the hallw

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