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ave enjoyed a few minutes of the discomfort she had caused him, but by the time she came downstairs she was no longer enjoying herself and her disappointment in Homer Wells was even deeper than her steadfast anger--it was nearly level with grief.
"I somehow thought you'd end up doin' something' better than ballin' a poor cripple's wife and pretendin' your own child ain't your own," Melony said to Homer Wells. "You of all people--you, an orphan," she reminded him.
"It's not quite like that," he started to tell her, but she shook her huge head and looked away from him.
"I got eyes," Melony said. "I can see what it's like--it's like shit. It's ordinary, middle-class shit--bein' unfaithful and lyin' to the kids. You of all people!" Melony said. She had her hands thrust in her pockets; she took them out and clasped them behind her back; then she jammed them back in her pockets again. Every time she moved her hands, Homer flinched.
Homer Wells had expected to be attacked by her; Melony was an attacker; but this was not the attack he had expected. He had imagined that he would, one day--when he saw her again--be a match for her, but now he knew that he would never be a match for Melony.
"Do you think I get my rocks off embarrassin' you?" Melony asked him. "Do you think I was always lookin' for you--only to give you a bad time?"
"I didn't know you were looking for me," said Homer Wells.
"I had you figured all wrong," said Melony. Looking at her, Homer Wells realized that he'd had Melony figured all wrong, too. "I always thought you'd end up like the old man."
"Like Larch?" Homer said.
"Of course, like Larch!" Melony snapped at him. "I figured you for that--you know, the missionary. The do-gooder with his nose in the air."
"I don't see Larch quite that way," Homer said.
"Don't be snotty to me!" Melony cried, her raw face streaked with tears. "You've got your nose in the air--I got that part right. But you ain't exactly no missionary. You're a creep! You knocked up somebody you shouldn't 'a' been fuckin' in the first place, and you couldn't even come clean about it to your own kid. Some missionary! Ain't that brave? In my book, Sunshine, that's a creep," Angel told him.
Then she left; she never asked him about the job; he never got to ask her how her life had been.
He went upstairs to the bathroom and threw up; he filled the sink with cold water and soaked his head, but the throbbing had no end. One hundred seventy-five pounds of truth had struck him in the face and neck and chest--had constricted his breathing and made him ache. A vomit taste was in his mouth; he tried to brush his teeth but he cut himself in the hand before he saw the blade. He felt nearly as paralyzed above the waist as he knew Wally must feel below. When he reached for the towel by the shower door, he saw what else was wrong, he saw what was missing from the bathroom: the blank questionnaire, the one he'd never returned to the board of trustees of St. Cloud's was gone. It didn't take Homer Wells long to imagine how Melony might answer some of the questions.
This new panic momentarily elevated him above his own self-pity. He called the orphanage immediately, and got Nurse Edna on the phone.
"Oh, Homer!" she cried, so glad to hear his voice.
"This is important," he told her. "I saw Melony."
"Oh, Melony!" Nurse Edna cried happily. "Missus Grogan will be thrilled!"
"Melony has a copy of the questionnaire," Homer said. "Please tell Doctor Larch--I don't think this is good news. That old questionnaire from the board of trustees."
"Oh, dear," Nurse Edna said.
"Of course she might never fill it out," Homer said, "but she has it--it says where to send it, right on the thing. And I don't know where she's gone; I don't know where she came from."
"Was she married?" Nurse Edna asked. "Was she happy?"
Jesus Christ, thought Homer Wells. Nurse Edna always shouted into the telephone; she was so old that she remembered only the days of bad connections.
"Just tell Doctor Larch that Melony has the questionnaire. I thought he should know," said Homer Wells.
"Yes, yes!" Nurse Edna shouted. "But was she happy?"
"I don't think so," Homer said.
"Oh, dear."
"I thought she was going to stay for supper," Wally said, serving the swordfish.
"I thought she wanted a job," Angel said.
"What's she been doing with herself?" Wally asked.
