Shadow Traffic

The Dolphin

145 The Dolphin It was really just a smile he saw for a split second, but it made Parker stop walking and go back to her. She was a young black woman in a cheap but pretty purple dress. When he stood in front of her, she smiled again. It didn’t take much after that. In less than a minute they were walking together—money hadn’t even been discussed. Then he looked at her more closely and noticed that one of her front teeth was chipped, but she was still beautiful, he thought. They walked another block together, talking easily while he kept looking for a cab because he wanted to get out of this part of Boston called the Combat Zone as soon as possible. He couldn’t wait to get her to his apartment, couldn’t remember ever feeling this eager in a situation like this, and his eagerness made him talk more than usual. Then halfway down the next block he suddenly knew. He turned to look at her once more and said, “Wait a minute, are you really a man?” Her smile had a tinge of sadness now. “Only in one place,” she said. “I didn’t know. I’m sorry. I’m not interested then.” shadow traffic 146 He walked away quickly, afraid to look back. He was stunned. How could he not tell a man from a woman after all these years? Why did it take him so long to find out this time? To think that because of his illusion he’d come so close to taking her home and yet, at the last minute it was as if he’d known all along. ■ ■ ■ Parker was sitting in a bar where they sometimes had music and strippers. It was called The Dolphin, but he couldn’t see even one image of a dolphin anywhere. He realized he was still upset and ordered a whiskey sour, which he drank moments after it arrived, then ordered another. At such times he often fell into a state of repetitious thinking—what he called a “thought loop”—which was very difficult to stop. He hoped he could head this one off by drinking but it was too late, he was already in another loop. He was thinking how often he’d been deceived in his life (sometimes, of course, contributing to it himself). Even as a child he was confused, far longer than he should have been, about the sun and moon. He used to think the moon was just how the sun looked at night—that they were two words for the same thing. For a long time he’d also never really believed that the earth was orbiting in space. He knew it “intellectually” but never felt it to be true. The world tricks us, Parker thought. Maybe that’s why people trick each other so much. A moment later a thirtyish man (around his age) sat next to him. He was wearing a black leather jacket, dark sunglasses, and was slightly unshaven, which accentuated his overall menacing appearance. Dear God, Parker said to himself, don’t let there be a conversation. At first there was a minute or so of silence, then the man asked him if the dancer had performed yet. The Dolphin 147 “No,” Parker said. “I’ve only been here ten or fifteen minutes but no dancer yet.” He’d answered clearly while avoiding eye contact—the best of both worlds under the circumstances, he thought, though if the man really wanted to talk the window of opportunity was still there. “Came here to see a dancer,” the man said. “Her name’s Trudy. You know her?” “No, I don’t know any of the dancers. I’ve never been here before, or maybe just once years ago.” Parker looked at the man, noticed he seemed somewhat reassured , at any rate down a notch of intensity. The next thing he knew, the man was extending his hand. “My name’s Nick,” he said, as they shook. It was a strong, overbearing handshake, clearly meant to send a message about his masculinity and strength, Parker thought. “Why you happen to come here?” Nick said. “No reason. I was just walking, not feeling too great, saw this place and thought I’d try to feel better.” “You probably could have made a better choice, but, hell, you’re here...