GLASS SOUP by Jonathan Carroll (funny books to read .txt) 📕

John was part of it. That’s all. As usual in an urgent situation, she did not allow her mind to go beyond those facts. The other woman broke eye contact and started speaking again to John in their private mad language.

Leni took two slow steps back from the doorway, a hand behind her to touch anything back there that might be in her way. She was naked beneath the robe and wore only a pair of cheap red rubber sandals that she kept at John’s place. How happy she had been the day she bought those silly things, knowing what she was going to do with them. How exciting it was later to tell John that she was leaving them in his apartment because it was more convenient. Both of them knew however that it had nothing to do with convenience. The sandals staying there was her way of staking a small claim to both his property and his life, which at the time appeared fine with John.

His back still to her, his full attention was on the other woman. Leni knew that as soon as John became aware of the fact that she was there, she was lost. She had to get to the front door, open it silently, and then run. She stepped slowly backward, carefully and as quietly as she could. But her bad leg kept making trouble for her balance. It was Leni’s worst enemy now, messing up every move. For years she’d thought of that leg as her retarded sister, the one who never left her alone and ruined or broke everything it touched. Her constant companion, the leg forever demanded her attention but gave back only discomfort and embarrassing situations. She hated it and herself for never having grown enough to ignore its drag on her soul.

While John and the other woman talked, it was easier to move toward the door. Leni could not do it soundlessly; that would have been impossible for anyone. But the noise of their conversation made hers less. Taking a quick look over her shoulder, she was elated to see how close she was to the exit.

Something John said appeared to anger the woman. Her voice rose to a scald and the strange-sounding words flew. Flannery looked up for the first time, but the women screeched and his head quickly dropped down again.

What was she saying? How could he understand it? Who was this imposter? Who was this man? Almost at the door, almost free, Leni’s heart and mind staggered at that thought, that question: Who was John? What was happening here when everything was supposed to be so different today? Love, passion, but now also the confusion that she felt about him welled up inside Leni and overflowed her banks. There was nothing she could do to stop it even though she knew she must escape.

The dog opened its eyes. Raising its giant head, it did not turn and look at the woman sitting nearby at the table. It did not look at John Flannery. The Great Dane opened its eyes and stared directly at Leni.

In her purse on the bathroom floor were treats for the dog. She brought it something to eat or play with every time she came to visit. One of her favorite things in their relationship was to accompany John when he took Luba for a walk along the Danube Canal. Because of her bad leg they could never go far. But the dog seemed perfectly happy to lie at their feet while they sat on a bench, the three contentedly watching the river and the world pass by.

“Is your leg bothering you again?”

Leni froze. At first she didn’t recognize the voice although it was clearly addressing her. It wasn’t John’s voice nor was it the other woman’s. But it was very familiar; her memory knew it although she hadn’t heard it in a long time. She turned just as a hand touched her shoulder, making her flinch.

Her father stood nearby wearing his beloved Brooklyn Dodgers baseball cap, work shirt, and faded khakis. The clothes he always changed into when he came home from the office. The clothes he had been buried in after he died four years before.

“Papa?” He was so real, so very there next to her that she forgot where she was and her predicament.

But by then Leni Salomon was already two minutes dead. Seeing her father was the beginning of her own afterlife. How did she die? She was killed by Flannery, or the Great Dane, or the other Leni Salomon. Which one was actually responsible for the act doesn’t matter. The moment the dog opened its eyes and saw her, confused by her great love for John, she was murdered before she even had a chance to be afraid.

She was found later slumped on a park bench by the Danube. According to the police, she’d had an aneurysm and died instantly. Her mind had popped.

Isabelle’s watch stopped working in the middle of Leni’s funeral. She looked down at her wrist because she couldn’t bear to look straight ahead one second more. Straight ahead was the coffin of Leni Salomon, about to be lowered into the ground forever. Just that thought was unbearable, much less the visual confirmation. Looking at the amber-colored wooden box and knowing what lay inside it was unbearable.

Vincent stood on one side of Isabelle while Flora stood on the other. Flora had not let go of her hand once during the ceremony. Oddly enough, neither woman had cried. Vincent noticed this but was not about to ask why. He knew how much they had adored their dead friend. If their grief for her was silent, then so be it.

He also knew that wherever Leni was now, she was all right. Like an amnesiac slowly regaining his memory after a traumatic blow to the head, Ettrich had begun to remember bits and pieces of what death was like. As he had said to Isabelle, most of