I wondered if she had a message for me. Perhaps some forgiveness, or a little hello. To me and maybe Edward too. Perhaps she would say hi to us over the radio. I’ve always wanted that to happen.

245

Edward the Fireman heard her too and thought her diction was very clear. Edward wanted to tell her that he did good now. He put out fires. Well, used to.

244

“Do you know how much traffic crosses the Brooklyn Bridge each day, Beth?” said Ali.

“No.”

“About two thousand pedestrians, fifteen hundred bikes, and about one hundred and fifty thousand vehicles.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“How many of those people think about jumping in?”

“I’m not . . .”

“All of them.”

“Really?”

“That’s right, Beth. Each one of those people have the same thoughts you do.”

“How do you know that?”

“I’ll prove it to you. I don’t know what the audience demographic is for this show . . .”

Penny wanted to leap in, she knew exactly.

“. . . but a whole load are drivers coming home from work. Taxi drivers, too, with passengers inside.”

Beth believed that.

“So I want to say to all those listening, if you’ve ever thought of jumping into the East River, or thought of self-slaughter generally, then sound your horn now.”

On the bridge car horns rang out. Trucks, taxis, sedans, two-seaters. Beyond the bridge wafting across the river the faint chorus of trumpets produced a fanfare of subtle harmonics. Distorted by mist and air.

243

Johansson’s cabby asked him if she should honk too. Johansson said why not.

242

The cabby driving the ex-government agent asked him if he should honk. The ex-agent told him to about-face and drive back to the city. The voice belonging to Ali Bronski was currently broadcasting from the offices of KKRC and the ex-government agent thought he might still be able to pull things around.

The taxi driver honked anyway. Honked like there was no tomorrow.

241

“You hear that?” said Ali.

“Yes,” said Beth.

“That’s how I know. That’s the cry of a city in anguish . . .”

Penny frowned, she wouldn’t have put it that way. This was supposed to be a life-affirming show. She had advertisers to consider.

“. . . but of all those who say they’ve thought of it, do you know how many actually jump in?” said Ali.

Beth didn’t answer. The phone went dead.

“Hello? Beth?”

Nothing.

“Beth?”

Ali and Penny looked over to Tamy. Tamy pushed buttons.

“Has she jumped?” asked Penny.

“Beth?”

“Tamy, have we lost her?”

Tamy said yes.

Penny thought talk of a city in anguish must have pushed her over the edge.

“Well, listeners, we seem to have lost Beth there . . .”

240

Car horns honked again. Louder than before.

239