Alligators in the Trees by Cynthia Hamilton Page A

it to the alternative, which was too ugly to think about.
    His command of his virtuosity had been reinstated less than a day, and already it was making unreasonable demands of him. Yet, he knew he had no choice. Now that it was within reach, every fiber in his body yearned for his old way of life, the life of the post-beatnik poet swinging the world by the tail.
    He walked toward Union Square for no particular reason. Once there, he kept walking, more aimlessly now, walking merely to keep moving, to keep his thoughts flowing. After about an hour, he was forced to entertain more practical thoughts, such as what to do about his voracious hunger and his growing fatigue.
    He was loath to go home; nothing could stymie his momentum faster than an inopportune encounter with Monique. There was a good chance she’d be out, but then again, he didn’t want to take that risk. He couldn’t fathom spending time with Simone and her brothers, benign as they were.
    Yet he couldn’t feel completely free knowing they could both be leaving an endless barrage of voicemails for him, impatiently trying to run him to ground. He ducked into the nearest phone booth and took the decisive step of deflecting their assaults. He avoided using his cell phone, as he didn’t really want to know how many voicemails he had. He called his house first, got a recording, and called Monique’s cell phone.
    “Hey, it’s me. Where are you?” he asked, taking the offensive before his wife could get her wits about her.
    “I’m downtown with Lila. We’ve just done a little shopping and we’re on our way to meet Per and Anatole at their hotel for a drink, then take it from there. Did you get my voicemails? I called you at least three times today,” she said snapping back into her usual mode.
    “No, that’s why I called you. I lost my phone somewhere.”
    “Oh shit. Better call to cancel service. I’ll get you a new one tomorrow, if I can find the time. Where are you?”
    “Brody’s. We’ve had an unbelievable session today—”
    “ Really ?” she asked icily.
    “Really,” Tobias countered.
    “Great—that’s awesome. Hey, why don’t you join us?” she asked with unaccustomed enthusiasm. “We’ll probably go to L’Etoile or Jasmine later on. It would be fun. It wouldn’t hurt to put in an appearance with the ol’ wifey every now and then,” she said, growing snide again. Tobias could tell she already had a few cocktails in her.
    “Sorry, can’t. I just called to let you know Brody and I are making major headway—we’re really on fire right now, and we don’t want to break the flow. Don’t expect me any time soon. What’s your day like tomorrow?” he asked.
    “Tomorrow is going to be a real bitch for me. I’ve got an ungodly early Pilates class, then appointments all day. Why do you ask?”
    “Just wanted to let you know there’s a chance we might head up to Brody’s country place for some intensive brainstorming,” he lied.
    “When will you be back?” Monique asked somewhat skeptically.
    “Don’t know—don’t know for sure if we’re even going. I’ll let you know. Okay, got to get back to work. Love you,” he said.
    “You too, babe. Call me,” she said rather urgently. Tobias hung up and dialed Simone’s apartment. She didn’t answer, so he left a message, a gentler rehash of the story he had just told Monique. He made it short and sweet, just long enough to establish an alibi for at least a couple of days. He exited the phone booth, feeling freer than he had in years. To secure his liberation, he discreetly tossed his cell phone in the first trashcan he came across, a step that lightened his load even more.
    Tobias never so much as glanced at his watch all night. He wandered from one drinking establishment to the next, stopping at an all-night diner at some point, prowling through parts of the city he had never been to before, moving through the night like an unseen alien. He felt almost invisible. The less