The Cold Room
“Both trains were packed on the first day of the new week, even at that early hour. I rocked along, alone with my thoughts despite the crush of bodies and the commingled odors, fair and foul. I’d spoken to Hansen just before leaving my apartment. Though I didn’t ask, I simply assumed that at some point he’d explained the facts of life to Aslan, then suggested deportation in lieu of prison. If so, Aslan had refused.
‘We don’t have enough to hold him,’ Linde told me. ‘Come noon, he’ll walk out the... door.’ I liked the sound of that.
The A Train came to a stop in the tunnel between Penn Station and Times Square, remaining motionless for several long moments. Rush-hour delays are common enough, and I wasn’t particularly concerned, but I found myself looking down at my watch, shifting my weight from foot to foot, as if the Portola household would simply vanish should I arrive at eight o’clock. In fact, the household was entirely unsuspecting and it wouldn’t matter if I got there tomorrow.MoreLess
‘We don’t have enough to hold him,’ Linde told me. ‘Come noon, he’ll walk out the... door.’ I liked the sound of that.
The A Train came to a stop in the tunnel between Penn Station and Times Square, remaining motionless for several long moments. Rush-hour delays are common enough, and I wasn’t particularly concerned, but I found myself looking down at my watch, shifting my weight from foot to foot, as if the Portola household would simply vanish should I arrive at eight o’clock. In fact, the household was entirely unsuspecting and it wouldn’t matter if I got there tomorrow.MoreLess
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