He smoked again, and noticed his hands were shaking. “Christ, Dolly,” he said. He shifted his eyes to her. The expectant look on her face crushed him. He would disappoint her; that much was inevitable. Better to do it sooner rather than later. The dam he’d built to keep his past in was shaky at best, anyway; it was idiotic to think it would hold forever, against the pressure of all the shit churning behind it. Maybe a controlled trickle was the answer. It would be enough to drive her away, anyway, before he got in too deep with her. “Can I tell you something?”

“All right,” she said.

“You’re right,” he said. “I don’t sleep well. I hardly sleep at all. And when I do, I have these dreams where I’m marching. I’ve been marching for a hundred years, but I’m not tired. And all I can hear is the boots of all these other guys in line, marching.” He looked out at the Bear Trap. “Then there’s a mortar attack. Heads and arms and legs go flying through the air. And blood. Everywhere. I can taste it, even; it’s salty and bitter. Then I’m alone, and everything’s quiet, and the only sound is the ticking of my watch. But I can’t tell what time it is because my watch is covered in blood, too. Then there’s this old man, off in the distance, picking his way through the bodies. Looking for watches and gold teeth. And then I’m him. I’m him, and there’s lice in my long white beard, but I’m walking on two legs.” In his mind, he could see the dam sealing shut again. He gave her a sharp smile. “Maybe that’s the craziest thing. Walking on two legs. You ever had a dream like that, Dolly?”

“No,” she said. Her eyes were wide, but she had not flinched.

He took a deep breath, then, and smoked.

She wasn’t running away from him!

He felt a startling flash of relief, a mournful sort of ecstasy. Everything pooling behind the dam seemed to rise, aching for release. “I’ve never told anyone about that dream,” he said. “I have it all the time.”

She tilted her head at him, her mouth heavy, eyes dark. “I’m glad you told me,” she said, her hand lighting on his for the briefest moment. But before he could speak, her hand was gone. She was gone. He heard the front door creak open, then shut behind her.

For a moment, it seemed necessary to focus all he had on breathing. Everything was clenched tight. Relaxing didn’t come easy, but when it finally did, his body was too heavy to move.