*Sure. Thanks.'

She climbed in and they sat a moment in silence. Nathan did not drive away.

After a time she looked over at him.

*As soon as you get your seat belt secured, we'll be going.'

*Oh, right,' she said.

Nathan heard the reassuring click of the belt latch snapping into place. He put the car into gear and drove.

For the first half mile or so, silence.

Nathan felt it was his role to speak. After all, he had sought her out, not vice versa.

*The main reason I came by is to see if you're OK.'

*Depends on what you mean by OK.'

*Physically. Psychologically. Financially.'

*I guess I will be,' she said. *Sounds like a tall order for right now.'

*I guess it is,' Nathan said.

*How did you know where I was? Did he tell you?'

*Eventually.' Nathan allowed a medium-length silence. *You don't have to tell me this if you don't want to. It's none of my business. I just wondered why you left.'

*Why? Why? He didn't tell you why?'

*No. He didn't.'

*Because he told me to go. That's why.'

*Nat told you to go? Are you sure you didn't misunderstand him?'

*He wrote it out in a note, Nathan. There was no misunderstanding. He said this was not what I signed on for.'

*You signed on for better or for worse. In sickness and in health.'

*Don't tell me. Tell him. He also said he wanted my admiration, not my pity. And I would never say this to him, Nathan, because he'd take it all wrong, but how can I admire him the way he is now? If I said that, he'd think I mean because he talks funny, and his arms and legs don't work right. But that's not why. It's because he's not fighting any more. And I don't mean in the ring.'

*No, I know you don't,' Nathan said. *I know what you mean.'

*Whatever used to get in his way in life, he always fought like hell. But he won't fight this any more. It's like he just gave up.'

*I know,' Nathan said.

*Any ideas on what to do for him?'

*Maybe. Give me time.'

He pulled up in front of the Frosty Freeze and shifted into park in a passenger-loading zone, sorry the conversation couldn't have lasted longer.

Carol looked at the shabby white building and sighed. *I need a better job.'

Nathan said nothing.

*He'll come around,' she said. *We'll get back together. We were meant to be together. I just need a way to convince him that I love him for him. You know, the actual him.'

Nathan shook his head. *No. It's not your job to convince him. It's his job to believe it. This is his shortcoming, not yours. He needs to think well enough of himself to believe it. And that's always been a problem for him.'

Carol sat a moment with her mouth open before answering. *But . . . I can't do anything about that.'

*That's right,' Nathan said. *You can't.'

A long silence. Nathan glanced at his watch to see if he was making her late for her shift.

*Promise me something, Nathan?'

*I will if I honestly can.'

*Promise me that no matter what happens with Nat and me, you and I will always be friends.'

It took Nathan completely by surprise, and he found it hard to answer.

Carol raced on. *You've been such a steady thing in my life, ever since I met you. I don't want to lose that. Whatever Nat does.'

Silence. Nathan wished he were better at emotional situations like this. He berated himself for making it to age seventy without mastering exchanges that everyone else found so simple. At least, he assumed they did.

*All right,' Nathan said. *I promise.'

21 January 1982 A Semi-Voluntary Occasion *I'm not going,' Nat said.

He sat at the breakfast table, stirring the honey and cinnamon into his oatmeal. And stirring. And stirring. And stirring. He looked as though he were trying to guard the bowl, the way he hunched his upper body over it. But unfortunately his posture was nothing out of the ordinary. Nathan had noticed that the young man never went to the trouble of sitting up straight any more.

Nathan sighed deeply. *I was sincerely hoping it wouldn't come to this,' he said. *But I guess it has. I've been supporting you for several years now. I financed your boxing career-'

*What there was of it.'

*. . . I paid all the medical bills your insurance didn't cover. I've driven you back and forth to physical therapy for the better part of two years. I didn't do it for thanks, and I never thought I would throw it up at you like this. But the truth remains that I have done a great deal for you, and asked very little in return. I asked you to go hunting once, because I thought you might enjoy it, and this morning I'm asking you to go see the new boxing gym with me.'

*Not even really that new,' Nat said. Still stirring.

*All the more reason it's high time for you to go.'

*So that's it. I got no choice.'

*No. You do have a choice. We always have choices in life. I'm not forcing you to go. I'm asking you to. And reminding you that I ask very little of you.'

Nat dropped his forehead into his left hand, still stirring. It was only when Nat sighed dramatically that Nathan knew he had prevailed.

*Hey, it's Nat!' Manny practically shouted. *Look everybody. It's Nat.'

*Everybody' consisted of nine young men, working out on bags, weight-lifting, or sparring with each other in the ring. And none of them could possibly have known Nat. So it seemed an odd bit of theatrics to Nathan.

And he knew Nat did not like the attention. Not one bit.

As they stood just inside the doorway, Manny began to applaud. Eight out of nine of the young men followed suit, for no apparent reason. As if someone had turned on an applause sign. People tend to do as they're told, Nathan thought.

The ninth young man, the non-applauder, said, *Who the hell is Nat?'

Manny strode three steps across the gym floor and cuffed him on the ear. *Show a little respect. This place wouldn't even exist without Nat.'

Nathan winced inwardly. He had been hoping to avoid that direct connection.

The applause had withered and died now, leaving Nathan and the reluctant Nat standing awkwardly, all eyes fixed on them.

*Besides,' Manny said. *Nat used to be a hell of a fighter in his day.'

A second strong flinch reaction in Nathan's gut. In his day?

*Not that his day was so long ago,' Manny said quickly. Awkwardly attempting to mop up the mistake. *Not like he's old or anything. I just mean, he was. A hell of a fighter.'

*So what happened to him?' the non-applauder asked.

Nat turned his head toward Nathan and spoke quietly. *I'll just wait outside,' he said.

The door swung closed behind him, with an audible whoosh and a blast of frigid air.

When Nathan looked around again, Manny was standing right in front of him.

*Guess that didn't go so good,' the little man said.

*Or we could look on the bright side. I got him in here. Finally. After all this time. Even if I only made it stick for about thirty seconds.'

*That Tony kid's not what you might call long on diplomacy. Then again, I gave him the opening. So I guess I'm not the big expert, either.'

*I'd better go see how Nat's doing,' Nathan said.

He found the young man out back, sitting on the snowy bottom of the fire escape stairway, his knees drawn up, his head resting in the cradle of his arms.

Nathan approached slowly, and sat down beside him.

For a time, neither spoke.

Then Nat said, *What did he mean when he said there wouldn't be a gym without me?'

Nathan didn't answer, because he could not think of an answer that seemed either useful or constructive.

*So, the whole point of this place was to get me out of the house. Right? Get me working again? What am I supposed to do? Mop the sweat off the floor at closing time?'

*We thought you could use your knowledge of the sport to advantage.'

*To whose advantage? A bunch of guys who are going to go on and do what I can't? And how am I supposed to get down here? You want me to ride the bus to this place every day? You think I'm going out in public, talking like I do? Walking like this?'

*Yes,' Nathan said. *I do.'

*Well, that's easy for you to say.'

*You have to have some kind of life, Nat. I feel like I'm not helping you any more by allowing you to lie in front of the TV all day. I'm starting to feel like I'm hurting you by supporting that. Whatever you think your shortcomings are . . . you can't just lock yourself in the house so no one can notice or comment. We all have to take ourselves out into the world, flaws and all. And find a way to make the adjustment.'

*Could you take me home?'

Nathan sighed. *All right. We'll go home for now.'

About halfway through the drive, Nat startled him by speaking.

*Maybe one of these days we could go hunting,' he said.

The comment surprised Nathan so much that it took him several beats to answer.

*What brought that idea on?'

*Well, you mentioned it earlier. You said the only other thing you asked of me was to try hunting. But I really didn't try it that day.'

*You don't have to go hunting with me just because-'

*No, I want to,' Nat said. *Really. I'll give it a try.'

No more was said for a time, and it struck Nathan that too many more questions might qualify as looking the proverbial gift horse in its proverbial mouth.

*It's true,' Nat said. *You don't ask much of me. I never really thought about it like that. Until you said it. But it's true.'

Nathan cleared his throat before speaking. *Unfortunately, the season is over now. And it won't open again until the fall.'

*Oh,' Nat said. *Well. I guess that's OK. I guess we'll both still be here in the fall.'

*Yes,' Nathan said. *I suppose we will.'

11 October 1982 Mandatory Emotional Responses Nathan stood outside the door of the shabby little apartment over the gym. The one right next door to Manny Schultz's. Before he could even raise his hand to knock, the door swung open and Nat stuck his head out.

*I'm all ready,' he said, sounding uncharacteristically eager. *I got a little bag packed right here. Just let me get it. And let me get a leash on Feathers. And then I'm all ready to go.'

*How is it working out living over the gym?' Nathan asked on the drive home.

*OK, I guess. Nice short commute time. There's never any food, though, like there was at your house. If I want something to eat I gotta go out for it. And the dog drives me nuts. I'm used to just opening the back door for him. Now every time he needs to go out I gotta put on my shoes and my coat and put a leash on him and take him out for a walk. Even if he gets the bright idea in the middle of the night. But it's OK, I guess. If it wasn't for him I'd probably never breathe any fresh air. Not that the air downtown is all that fresh.'