Extremely Loud And Incredibly Close Part 17

I wanted to shout myself into his ear.

I touched his shoulder.

He lowered his head.

How could you?

He wouldn't show me his eyes. I hate silence.

Say something.

He took his pen from his shirt pocket and the top napkin from the stack on the table.

He wrote, You were happy when I was away.

How could you think that?

We are lying to ourselves and to each other.

Lying about what? I don't care if we're lying.

I am a bad person.

I don't care. I don't care what you are.

I can't.

What's killing you?

He took another napkin from the stack.

He wrote, You're killing me.

And then I was silent.

He wrote, You remind me.

I put my hands on the table and told him, You have me.

He took another napkin and wrote, Anna was pregnant.

I told him, I know. She told me.

You know?

I didn't think you knew. She said it was a secret. I'm glad you know.

He wrote, I'm sorry I know.

It's better to lose than never to have had.

I lost something I never had.

You had everything.

When did she tell you?

We were in bed talking.

He pointed at, When.

Near the end.

What did she say?

She said, I'm going to have a baby.

Was she happy?

She was overjoyed.

Why didn't you say anything?

Why didn't you?

In my dream, people apologized for things that were about to happen, and lit candles by inhaling.

I have been seeing Oskar, he wrote.

I know.

You know?

Of course I know.

He flipped back to, Why didn't you say anything?

Why didn't you?

The alphabet went z, y, x, w ...

The clocks went tock-tick, tock-tick...

He wrote, I was with him last night. That's where I was. I buried the letters.

What letters?

The letters I never sent.

Buried them where?

In the ground. That's where I was. I buried the key, too.

What key?

To your apartment.

Our apartment.

He put his hands on the table.

Lovers pulled up each other's underwear, b.u.t.toned each other's shirts, and dressed and dressed and dressed.

I told him, Say it.

When I saw Anna for the last time.

Say it.

When we.

Say it!

He put his hands on his knees.

I wanted to hit him.

I wanted to hold him.

I wanted to shout myself into his ear.

I asked, So what happens now?

I don't know.

Do you want to go home?

He flipped back to, I can't.

Then you'll go away?

He pointed at, I can't.

Then we are out of options.

We sat there.

Things were happening around us, but nothing was happening between us.

Above us, the screens said which flights were landing and which were taking off.

Madrid departing.

Rio arriving.

Stockholm departing.

Paris departing.

Milan arriving.

Everyone was coming or going.

People around the world were moving from one place to another.

No one was staying.

I said, What if we stay?

Stay?

Here. What if we stay here at the airport?

He wrote, Is that another joke?

I shook my head no.

How could we stay here?

I told him, There are pay phones, so I could call Oskar and let him know I'm OK. And there are paper stores where you could buy daybooks and pens. There are places to eat. And money machines. And bathrooms. Even televisions.

Not coming or going.

Not something or nothing.

Not yes or no.

My dream went all the way back to the beginning.

The rain rose into the clouds, and the animals descended the ramp.

Two by two.

Two giraffes.

Two spiders.

Two goats.