Page 298 - A Little Life: A Novel

and so in a way, this man was no better or worse than the others. As he had
given the man a blow job, the man’s stomach pressing against his neck, the
man had cried, apologizing to him: I’m sorry, I’m sorry, he said, the tips of

his fingers on the top of his head. The man had long fingernails, each as
thick as bone, and he dragged them over his scalp, but gently, as if they
were tines of a comb. And somehow, it is as if over the years he has become
that man, and he knows that if anyone were to see him, they too would feel
repulsed, nauseated by his deformities. He doesn’t want someone to have to
stand before the toilet retching, as he had done afterward, scooping handfuls
of liquid soap into his mouth, gagging at the taste, trying to make himself

clean again.
So he will never have to do anything he doesn’t want to for food or
shelter: he finally knows that. But what is he willing to do to feel less
alone? Could he destroy everything he’s built and protected so diligently for
intimacy? How much humiliation is he ready to endure? He doesn’t know;
he is afraid of discovering the answer.

But increasingly, he is even more afraid that he will never have the
chance to discover it at all. What does it mean to be a human, if he can
never have this? And yet, he reminds himself, loneliness is not hunger, or
deprivation, or illness: it is not fatal. Its eradication is not owed him. He has
a better life than so many people, a better life than he had ever thought he
would have. To wish for companionship along with everything else he has
seems a kind of greed, a gross entitlement.

The weeks pass. Willem’s schedule is erratic, and he calls him at odd
hours: at one in the morning, at three in the afternoon. He sounds tired, but
it isn’t in Willem’s nature to complain, and he doesn’t. He tells him about
the scenery, the archaeological sites they’ve been given permission to shoot
in, the little mishaps on set. When Willem is away, he is increasingly
inclined to stay indoors and do nothing, which he knows isn’t healthy, and

so he has been vigilant about filling his weekends with events, with parties
and dinners. He goes to museum shows, and to plays with Black Henry
Young and to galleries with Richard. Felix, whom he tutored so long ago,
now helms a punk band called the Quiet Amerikans, and he makes Malcolm
come with him to their show. He tells Willem about what he’s seen and
what he’s read, about conversations with Harold and Julia, about Richard’s
latest project and his clients at the nonprofit, about Andy’s daughter’s