Going back into the bedroom, he picked up the telephone and brought it close to his bed, sat on the scattered sheets, and dialed the number in the dark. The red glow around the numbers on his clock showed it was almost 2:30 in the morning. After two rings he wanted to hang up, but something—perhaps the idea of sleeplessness, he thought—would not let him and seemed to dictate that he let the telephone ring a third, a fourth, and then a fifth time.

“Hello.” He could tell that she had not been sleeping.

“Were you sleeping?” he asked anyway.

There was a little pause and some audible breathing. Eric knew she would not lie. “No,” she said at last.

“I don’t know why I called. I honestly don’t know why.”

“You couldn’t sleep,” she said.

“I was just thinking,” he said. “Are you tired?”

“Yes.”

“Are you alone?”

“Yes.” Her voice was much heavier.

“Can I just talk to you?”

“What about? We’ve said all we have to.”

“I’m sorry, truly I am.”

“For what?” she said sharply. “What have you got to be sorry about?”

“For the way things are. Everything’s just so messed up.”

“And I’m black,” she said. “That makes it messier.” Her voice was not angry, just heavy, and Eric knew that if they talked longer she would be crying and he would have to go out walking all through the night. But he had called her, and he played with what he would say in his mind because he knew that if he was not careful he would begin to repeat himself.

“I’m sorry about everything. I’m sorry for the whole world and everybody in it. I’m sorry I’m alive.” He had made his voice softer.

“Please don’t do that, Eric,” she said. “Oh, please, please don’t start that. I just want to sleep.”

He knew that he had said that too many times and now she did not believe him. “Can I see you?” he asked, his voice very close to pleading.

She was silent for a moment and Eric thought about where he would go if he had to walk. “When?” she finally said.

“Tonight. Now.”

“Why now? Because it’s dark? Because you can’t sleep and want to make love?”

“That’s not it at all,” Eric said quickly. “You know that’s not it.”

“But it’s what we’ve come to, isn’t it?”

Now Eric was silent. He could say nothing more without repeating himself and he did not want to do that.

“Is this all we have left, the night, and calling whenever one of us gets horny?”

“Don’t,” he said. “It was so beautiful. Don’t dirty it. I know I deserve it but please don’t say it now.”

“When will I say it?” she said.