Solomon awake now, but breath still coming rapidly, that dream again, familiar, the glittery underwater light, something awful coming toward him, what is it? Solomon can’t remember. He becomes aware of Bea’s breathing, heavy, regular, warm against his shoulder.
In another moment, it starts coming to him in bright pieces how things will be in the morning: the vague smell of carbon tetrachloride in the operating room, checking the instrument table; the inflatable tourniquet in place, then sliding the X rays on the viewing box, the glow of the bones like pale-blue candles, studying the foot a moment more….
Paperback | 268 pages
| February 24, 1983