Page 520 - A Little Life: A Novel

Willem will wait and hold him so tightly that Jude won’t be able to breathe.
Twice he will try to wrench himself away, and Willem will pin him to the
ground and hold him there until he calms himself. Because they are in the

closet, they won’t know what time it is, only that there has been a day that
has arrived and departed, because they will have seen flat carpets of sun
unroll themselves into the closet’s doorways from the bedroom, from the
bathroom. He will listen to stories that are unimaginable, that are
abominable; he will excuse himself, three times, to go to the bathroom and
study his face in the mirror and remind himself that he has only to find the
courage to listen, although he will want to cover his ears and cover Jude’s

mouth to make the stories cease. He will study the back of Jude’s head,
because Jude can’t face him, and imagine the person he thinks he knows
collapsing into rubble, clouds of dust gusting around him, as nearby, teams
of artisans try to rebuild him in another material, in another shape, as a
different person than the person who had stood for years and years. On and
on and on the stories will go, and in their path will lie squalor: blood and

bones and dirt and disease and misery. After Jude has finished telling him
about his time with Brother Luke, Willem will ask him, again, if he enjoys
having sex at all, even a little, even occasionally, and he will wait the many
long minutes until Jude says he doesn’t, that he hates it, that he always has,
and he will nod, devastated, but relieved to have the real answer. And then
he will ask him, not even knowing where the question has been hiding, if
he’s even attracted to men, and Jude will tell him, after a silence, that he’s

not certain, that he had always had sex with men, and so assumed he always
would. “Are you interested in having sex with women?” he’ll ask him, and
he’ll watch as, after another long silence, Jude shakes his head. “No,” he’ll
say. “It’s too late for me, Willem,” and he will tell him it’s not, that there are
things they can do to help him, but Jude will shake his head again. “No,”
he’ll say. “No, Willem, I’ve had enough. No more,” and he will realize, as if

slapped, the truth of this, and will stop. They will sleep again, and this time,
his dreams will be terrible. He will dream he is one of the men in the motel
rooms, he will realize that he has behaved like one of them; he will wake
with nightmares, and it will be Jude who has to calm him. Finally they will
heave themselves from the floor—it will be Saturday afternoon, and they
will have been lying in the closet since Thursday night—and shower and
eat something, something hot and comforting, and then they will go directly

from the kitchen into the study, where he will listen as Jude leaves a