Calvin by Martine Leavitt

Author:Martine Leavitt
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780374303570
Publisher: Farrar, Straus and Giroux (BYR)

Susie and I both looked up sharp, but he was poking at his fire.

Me: Nah. You didn’t.

Noah:

Susie: Really?

Noah: Nice guy. Quiet-spoken, firm-minded man. Not so much in the looks department.

He got some instant coffee from a shelf.

Noah: He came to my island to do some ice fishing one winter, with a mutual friend.

Me (to Susie): Ask him if he has proof.

Susie: Do you have proof?

Noah: He didn’t leave his card, if that’s what you mean.

Susie: How can we believe you, then?

Noah: Who’s asking you to believe me?

Susie handed the bowl to me.

I sat there with my mouth kind of open but nothing intelligent was coming out of it, and I couldn’t even spoon any more beans into it. I put the bowl on the floor. I could hear Hobbes licking at the dregs.

Susie: It—it’s just that this is so important to us.

Noah: Girl, there’s some things you can’t prove. What would prove it? If I had his signature? I coulda bought it somewhere. If I had a picture? You could say I doctored it. Like I said, some things you can’t prove. I can tell you about it. Or not. Up to you.

Susie (nodding): Please.

Noah: Welp. He was a nice feller and we got some good fishing done.

We waited. He made coffee for himself, gesturing to Susie with his cup to ask if she wanted some. She shook her head.

Me: And?

Noah babied his fire.

Susie: Did he say anything about—about Calvin?

Hobbes: Did he say anything about Hobbes?

Noah: Sure, it come around to that evench. Wasn’t much of a comic reader, myself, but I heard of him, and he chatted about it, brief.

I waited. He took a long, loud slurp of his coffee, then tipped his head slightly to one side and stared into the mug as if he saw something in it.

Susie: So do you think he’s sad about Calvin being … over?

Noah (shrugging): People say stuff when they’re fishing.

He seemed deep in thought while he said it.

Susie: What else? Can you tell us anything else?

Noah: You want me to say something particular, something that will make him seem realer than he was before. But he’s just a man, a mediocre fisherman who likes a poem once in a while.

Noah looked up at me.

Noah: He wouldn’t think much of you.

Right then I believed that with every cell of my body. I wasn’t even angry that he said it—it was like he was stating a fact.

Susie: You are a rude man.

Noah: I have traditional values. A man should protect his woman and not put her in harm’s way.

Susie: I am my own woman, thank you. And he just wants to walk across a lake, not live on it all winter long, like some people.

Noah:

Susie: If I were your wife, I would wonder how you could protect me if you were away for months of the year.

Noah: I’m a poet. We need solitude.

Susie: So as long as you make a poem out of it, it’s okay to hurt people?

Noah: Art is the pinnacle of human achievement.

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