Bob and Jane in the
by David Holzel
you should try the abstract expressionist wing," I
said and immediately regretted it. I needed to project a
sense of active indifference, not make light of this
young woman's recent experience.
"I didn't expect to meet you here, Jane." That sounded sufficiently dry.
"Well I got time off. I thought you would have known that."
"Yes, but I mean here. Today. Now."
She grinned as if she had stumped me. I briefly saw the young woman she was 20 years ago.
"I followed you, Bob."
I tried to reply calmly, but the image of the bloody corpse, a favorite uncle, stabbed 36 times, its right thigh showing signs of being cannibalized, made it difficult.
"You followed me in?"
"Yeah, yeah." She bobbed her head like she did when I first interviewed her in jail, when the doctor diagnosed her schizophrenia, and when despite my vigorous defense, the judge sentenced her to 30 years in prison. I didn't believe she comprehended any of it.
"Since you left your house this morning. I told you I wanted to see you when I got out. Oh...." She went fishing in her bag and pulled out a pair of scissors. "You dropped this."
|Pieter Breughel's The
Triumph of Death from Mark Harden's Artchive.
The Jewish Angle
© Copyright 2000 by David Holzel