Page 19 of Creature
“The man, my… employer? Hedied. Car wreck.” Harry bit his lip and let his head droop. Hisversion of sorrow must have looked authentic, because Swan reachedacross the table to lay his hand over Harry’s. An onlooker mighthave interpreted it as a sympathetic gesture, but it feltpossessive. And Swan’s hand was cold.
When the waiter appeared a moment later withanother drink for Harry, he didn’t show any surprise that they weretouching. Harry immediately took a long sip, burning his tongue inthe process, but he didn’t pull his hand from Swan’s grip.
“What happened after yourmentor passed away?” Swan finally asked.
“He left me a littlemoney. Not a lot—I guess his family got most of it—but some. Plushis most precious possession.” Harry cut his eyes to the sideslyly, as if he had a delicious secret, and then he forced a grin.“I decided to come up here for a fresh start. Too many memories inLA. Now I’m settling in a little. Hoping to get to know somepeople.” He downed all the rest of his drink in one burningdraught.
Swan squeezed Harry’s hand and finally letgo. “Well, look. You’ve succeeded at that already, haven’t you?We’re getting to know each other quite nicely.”
“I don’t know anythingabout you.”
“Oh, there’s not much toknow. I was born and raised here. I attended college back East ofcourse—Yale—but returned to my hometown. Portland is not acosmopolitan city, but it has its charms. Now that you’re here, ithas one more.”
LanaTurner, Harry reminded himself. He triedfor the type of mysterious smile she’d have when pursued by ahandsome older man. “What do you do for a living, Mr.Swan?”
“Please, it’s Arthur. Ihave investments. But I like to fancy myself a scientist andinventor.”
Harry widened his eyes and bent closer.“Really? Mr. Lord—my boss—he did that too.”
“What sort of work did hepursue?”
“Um… biology?” He twitchedas if he were nervous—which didn’t take much acting, really. “I’mnot supposed to talk about it. How about if you tell me aboutPortland instead?”
Although Swan looked slightly peeved, thatexpression fled quickly, replaced by a smooth smile. “I’d bedelighted. But you need another drink first.”
After that, Swan went on at length aboutrestaurants and mountains, about the coast, about the best placesto shop and his favorite theaters. Harry did a lot of smiling andnodding, but the words flowed meaninglessly over him, especiallyafter he began his fourth drink. Irish coffee. That’s what Swansaid they were called.
“I gotta piss,” Harry saidsuddenly, interrupting a monologue about Swan’s travels in New YorkCity. He stood on shaky legs, looked around blearily, and spied thesign for the gents. He managed to make it all the way withouttripping, which he considered quite an accomplishment.
But after he’d zipped up his fly and as heheld his hands under the faucet, the bathroom door opened and Swansailed in. In this light, brighter than the bar, his pallor seemedas profound as John’s and his brown eyes less human. He waited forHarry to dry his hands. Then Swan maneuvered Harry’s back againstthe door and pressed against him, pinning him in place. Swancaptured Harry’s head between his hands and leaned down for afierce kiss.
Harry had fucked other men, but he’d rarelykissed them; he’d never much wanted to. He didn’t want to kiss Swaneither, but the alcohol messed with his head and made him weak, sohe didn’t resist. Besides, wasn’t it his goal to get close to thisman?
Swan pulled away at last, then traced athumb across Harry’s lower lip. “Delicious.”
“I… I….”
“No, no need to bealarmed. I only wanted a taste. For tonight, at any rate. I findthat a meal is all the more savored when one must wait for it. ButI couldn’t help but sneak a bit of an appetizer.”
“I ain’t yourdinner.”
Swan stroked him again. “Of course not.” Hetook a step backward and straightened his jacket and cuffs. “Infact, I propose we meet tomorrow evening for a shared repast. Haveyou been to Huber’s yet?”
“No.”
“I’ll meet you there atseven.” One last touch, this time to Harry’s cheek, and Swanleft.
Harry stayed in the bathroom for some time.He leaned against a wall and then, gathering himself enough tomove, splashed cold water on his face. When he emerged into thebar, he saw no sign of Swan. But the man must have paid the billbefore he left, because the waiter and bartender ignored Harry ashe put on his coat and hat and then, weaving a little, left theWillamette Hotel.
During the walk back to his car—made longerby a couple of wrong turns—Harry had time to think. He should havebeen pleased with the evening’s events. After all, he’d found hisfish and hooked him with ease. But instead of happy, Harry feltdirty. As if he needed another long bath. As if some kind ofcorruption had taken hold the minute he’d agreed to Townsend’splan.
So he thought about booze instead, the wayit heated his stomach and made his brain feel wrapped in layers ofcotton batting. The way it made the world seem far away, as ifHarry were one of the clouds floating through the night sky. Thedisconnection from reality didn’t frighten him tonight; ifanything, it was a comfort.
He found his car and, with greatconcentration, managed to steer it over the bridge to the east sideof town. Before he reached his duplex, though, he spied a littlegrocery that was still open. He parked crookedly near the curb. Atthe pay phone outside, he made a quick call to the number Townsendhad given and left a message with a woman, saying he’d found Swan.Inside he discovered that hard liquor was sold only in state-runshops and that none stayed open late. But since grocers could sellbeer and wine, Harry bought a six-pack of beer called HenryWeinhard’s. Then he got back into his car and drove home.
Chapter Nine
John savored every page ofthe book, which told a story of soldiers stationed in Hawaii as awar with the Japanese began. He didn’t know anything about such awar, so he couldn’t tell whether the tale was true. And withFrankensteinas his onlycomparison, he couldn’t tell whether this was agoodbook. But he enjoyed it verymuch because it was his and because he’d been granted the greatluxury of reading it.
