Born Weird by Andrew Kaufman Read Free Book Online

This meant that every day he felt just a little more vulnerable to her. It was merely a consequence of time before, feeling increasingly unsafe, Richard began to pull away.
    This had happened in all three of his marriages. It had happened with every woman he’d ever fallen in love with.
    Richard switched the cigarette from his left hand to his right and put the knuckle of his ring finger in his mouth. Wetting the skin, he slid the ring off. He put it inside the purple bag. He put the two other rings back inside it as well. Then he drew the yellow drawstring and placed the bag underneath his socks. As he closed the drawer more ash fell to the carpet.
    He was in the bathroom, midstream, when he noticed that something had been written in soap on the bathroom mirror. He flushed the toilet. He washed his hands. Then he read the message.
    Richard:
    I’m sorry but I’m leaving you.
    I think you want it this way. I
    think you still love me (OVER)
    “Over?” Richard asked.
    For several moments Richard looked at his reflection. The word
sorry
appeared to be written on his forehead. Then he opened the medicine cabinet. The writing, still in soap, continued on the inside of the door. The back of the medicine cabinet was white and so was the soap. Richard opened and closed the door until he found an angle that allowed him to read it.
    If you do, prove it. I am flying
    home. My plane leaves at 5:15.
    We have something worth
    keeping. Don’t be afraid of me.
    Sarah
    Richard shut the door of the medicine cabinet. The sun broke through the clouds, filling the bathroom with light.Richard ran to the bedroom and took his camera from the bedside table. He returned to the bathroom. The light was still perfect. He took many pictures from many angles of the medicine cabinet and the note that was written on the mirror. Only when the light faded did he lower his camera. Then he went back to the bedroom, dressed, took his wedding ring out of the bag and put it back on his finger. He packed a suitcase and called for an airport limo.
    When the limo arrived Richard inspected it and found it met his approval.
    Richard arrived at the Montréal-Pierre Elliott Trudeau International Airport just before four. A ticket for American Airlines flight AA487 to Washington, D.C. was easily purchased. He checked his bag. He stood in the line to enter security screening. It was 4:25. The security guard held out his hand for Richard’s boarding pass. Richard reached into his pocket. He touched it. But the paper felt cold. He did not feel that it would keep him safe. Richard took his hand out of his pocket, leaving the boarding pass inside.
    “Est-ce que je peux vous aider?” the guard asked.
    “No, I don’t think you can,” Richard replied. He picked up his suitcase, stepped out of line and walked away. He was almost out of the airport, so close to the automatic doors that they’d rumbled open, when he saw them. He reached out and touched them. Angie and Lucy turned around and Richard, who had already raised his camera, took a picture.

W HEN N ICOLA WENT INTO LABOUR with Richard, she was not surprised that her husband put her into the back of a taxi, or that he got behind the wheel, but that he started the meter. It was March 16, 1982. Nicola sat in the back seat. She gripped the door handle as another contraction went through her. When she looked back up the amount owing on the meter equalled the number of months she’d been married—$3.00.
    In those three months Nicola had been unable to determine whether she loved Besnard, or just the chaos that he brought into her life. But as their unplanned pregnancy continued on schedule, there had been less and less time to worry about this. And now that the baby was almost here, the question was irrelevant: if she loved him, fantastic; if she only loved the chaos, there seemed to be no shortage of it.
    Besnard raced south on University. He sped past cars, aiming for pockets of space that hadn’t yet opened up.