Amalie in Orbit
Page 19
“You’ll get back into it,” Marshall says—whatever “it” is. He seems almost disappointed in her. Like Alex. “Let me ask you something. What’s going on with the police department in the city? You read about the cops who broke into those uptown apartments without warrants? It just makes my blood boil. Maybe I should have stayed in New York.” The man is full of regrets. Is he thinking about the failure of his ambitions, all those great social schemes?
Amalie lays her hand on his arm. “We’re in the country. Whatever happened to that hike you promised me? I’m not leaving till tomorrow morning when I pick up my kid in Bennington. I could do with some outdoor activity. Why don’t you follow me back to the motel first so I can change my shoes.”
Marshall’s face lights up. “That’s the best thing you could have said.” Which part, she wonders, the hike, the motel, or the shoes? As they leave the food court, he says, “Remind me to tell you how you once saved my life on a bridge right here in Vermont.”
“You’ve been reading too many folk tales, Marshall,” she laughs.
As she gets into her car, Amalie reflects that maybe a long-distance dalliance would be a good thing. It will keep her unfettered and in motion, at whatever speed she chooses, free to encounter or dodge any earthly body that comes her way. Just like on the George Washington Bridge, she can be in two places at once. She feels ready for anything.
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a Note about the writer
Gloria DeVidas Kirchheimer is the author of a book of short stories based on Sephardic family life, Goodbye, Evil Eye, and co-author (with Manfred Kirchheimer) of a nonfiction book, We Were So Beloved: Autobiography of a German Jewish Community. Her work has been published in print and online magazines, widely anthologized, and broadcast over National Public Radio. A writer, translator, and editor, Kirchheimer is a first-generation American and lives in New York City where she was born.