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EPILOGUE

Fall 1982

T he apartment wasn’t very nice. The walls were paneled in dark, make-believe walnut. The young woman’s four-year-old was crying in the living room. She got out of bed, taking the sheets with her, opened the bedroom door, and yelled at him. Then she went back to the bed.

“You need to go soon,” she said to the young man beside her. She kissed him again, and whispered, “You’re going to do it for me, aren’t you?”

“Why don’t you just divorce him, Jojo?”

“Then he’ll always be around wanting to see the kid.”

“But you could get remarried if you got divorced.”

“I don’t want to get remarried.”

“What if I want to marry you?”

“Don’t be gross. You’re my cousin.”

“What are you talking about? You’ll have sex with me but you won’t marry me?”

“Sex is nobody’s business. Marriage is everybody’s business.” She sat up and put on her bra. “Look, if you don’t want to do it, don’t do it.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“It’s a good deal. Mr. Cray is good for the money.”

“Are you fucking him?”

“No. He’s paying you two thousand dollars to get rid of my husband out of the goodness of his heart. Of course, I’m fucking him. And don’t get all jealous about it. This is good for you.”

“Doesn’t he want to marry you?”

“God no. His wife comes from money and she gets it all when her parents die. He’s gotta stay married to her. And maybe I don’t want to marry him. Maybe I don’t want to marry anyone.”

“You won’t be able to. Not if he disappears.”

The young woman smiled at him. “That’s what I want though. I want him to disappear, like he was never here at all. I want you to be my magician.”

“Don’t worry, Jojo. I’ll do magic for you.”