flynn_gillian_gone_girl (1) (858987), страница 46
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It was like dating a seaotter. He was the rst naturally happy person I met who was my equal. He was brilliantand gorgeous and funny and charming and charmed. People liked him. Women lovedhim. I thought we would be the most perfect union: the happiest couple around. Not thatlove is a competition. But I don’t understand the point of being together if you’re not thehappiest.I was probably happier for those few years—pretending to be someone else—than Iever have been before or after.
I can’t decide what that means.But then it had to stop, because it wasn’t real, it wasn’t me. It wasn’t me, Nick! Ithought you knew. I thought it was a bit of a game. I thought we had a wink-wink, don’task, don’t tell thing going. I tried so hard to be easy. But it was unsustainable. It turnedout he couldn’t sustain his side either: the witty banter, the clever games, the romance,and the wooing. It all started collapsing on itself. I hated Nick for being surprised whenI became me. I hated him for not knowing it had to end, for truly believing he hadmarried this creature, this gment of the imagination of a million masturbatory men,semen- ngered and self-satis ed. He truly seemed astonished when I asked him to listento me.
He couldn’t believe I didn’t love wax-stripping my pussy raw and blowing him onrequest. That I did mind when he didn’t show up for drinks with my friends. Thatludicrous diary entry? I don’t need pathetic dancing-monkey scenarios to repeat to myfriends, I am content with letting him be himself.That was pure, dumb Cool Girl bullshit. What a cunt. Again, I don’t get it: If you let aman cancel plans or decline to do things for you, you lose. You don’t get what you want.It’s pretty clear. Sure, he may be happy, he may say you’re the coolest girl ever, but he’ssaying it because he got his way.
He’s calling you a Cool Girl to fool you! That’s whatmen do: They try to make it sound like you are the Cool Girl so you will bow to theirwishes. Like a car salesman saying, How much do you want to pay for this beauty? whenyou didn’t agree to buy it yet. That awful phrase men use: “I mean, I know you wouldn’tmind if I …” Yes, I do mind. Just say it.
Don’t lose, you dumb little twat.So it had to stop. Committing to Nick, feeling safe with Nick, being happy with Nick,made me realize that there was a Real Amy in there, and she was so much better, moreinteresting and complicated and challenging, than Cool Amy. Nick wanted Cool Amyanyway. Can you imagine, nally showing your true self to your spouse, your soulmate, and having him not like you? So that’s how the hating rst began. I’ve thoughtabout this a lot, and that’s where it started, I think.NICK DUNNESEVEN DAYS GONEI made it a few steps into the woodshed before I had to lean against the wall andcatch my breath.I knew it was going to be bad. I knew it once I gured out the clue: woodshed.Midday fun.
Cocktails. Because that description was not me and Amy. It was me andAndie. The woodshed was just one of many strange places where I’d had sex with Andie.We were restricted in our meeting spots. Her busy apartment complex was mostly a nogo. Motels show up on credit cards, and my wife was neither trusting nor stupid. (Andiehad a MasterCard, but the statement went to her mom.
It hurts me to admit that.) So thewoodshed, deep behind my sister’s house, was very safe when Go was at work. Likewisemy father’s abandoned home (Maybe you feel guilty for bringing me here / I must admit itfelt a bit queer / But it’s not like we had the choice of many a place / We made the decision:We made this our space), and a few times, my o ce at school (I picture myself as yourstudent / With a teacher so handsome and wise / My mind opens up [not to mention mythighs!]), and once, Andie’s car, pulled down a dirt road in Hannibal after I’d taken herfor a visit one day, a much more satisfying reenactment of my banal eld trip with Amy(You took me here so I could hear you chat / About your boyhood adventures: crummy jeansand visor hat).Each clue was hidden in a spot where I’d cheated on Amy.
She’d used the treasurehunt to take me on a tour of all my in delities. I had a shimmer of nausea as I picturedAmy trailing oblivious me in her car—to my dad’s, to Go’s, to goddamn Hannibal—watching me fuck this sweet young girl, my wife’s lips twisting in disgust and triumph.Because she knew she’d punish me good. Now at our nal stop, Amy was ready forme to know how clever she was.
Because the woodshed was packed with about everygizmo and gadget that I swore to Boney and Gilpin I hadn’t bought with the credit cardsI swore I didn’t know anything about. The insanely expensive golf clubs were here, thewatches and game consoles, the designer clothes, they were all sitting here, in wait, onmy sister’s property. Where it looked like I’d stored them until my wife was dead and Icould have a little fun.I knocked on Go’s front door, and when she answered, smoking a cigarette, I told herI had to show her something, and I turned around and led her without a word to thewoodshed.“Look,” I said, and ushered her toward the open door.“Are those—Is that all the stu … from the credit cards?” Go’s voice went high andwild.
She put one hand to her mouth and took a step back from me, and I realized thatjust for a second, she thought I was making a confession to her.We’d never be able to undo it, that moment. For that alone, I hated my wife.“Amy’s framing me, Go,” I said. “Go, Amy bought this stuff. She’s framing me.”She snapped to. Her eyelids clicked once, twice, and she gave a tiny shake of herhead, as if to rid herself of the image: Nick as wife killer.“Amy’s framing me for her murder. Right? Her last clue, it led me right here, and no,I didn’t know about any of this stu .
It’s her grand statement. Presenting: Nick Goes toJail!” A huge, burpy air bubble formed at the back of my throat—I was going to sob orlaugh. I laughed. “I mean, right? Holy fuck, right?”So hurry up, get going, please do / And this time I’ll teach you a thing or two. The nalwords of Amy’s first clue. How did I not see it?“If she’s framing you, why let you know?” Go was still staring, trans xed by thecontents of her shed.“Because she’s done it so perfectly. She always needed that validation, the praise, allthe time. She wants me to know I’m being fucked. She can’t resist. It wouldn’t be fun forher otherwise.”“No,” Go said, chewing on a nail.
“There’s something else. Something more. Have youtouched anything in here?”“No.”“Good. Then the question becomes …”“What does she think I’ll do when I nd this, this incriminating evidence, on mysister’s property,” I said. “That’s the question, because whatever she assumes I’ll do,whatever she wants me to do, I have to do the opposite.
If she thinks I’ll freak out andtry to get rid of all this stuff, I guarantee you she has a way I’ll get busted with it.”“Well, you can’t leave it here,” Go said. “You’ll de nitely get busted that way. Areyou sure that was the last clue? Where’s your present?”“Oh. Shit. No. It must be inside somewhere.”“Don’t go in there,” Go said.“I have to. God knows what else she’s got in store.”I stepped carefully into the dank shed, keeping my hands tight by my sides, walkingdelicately on tiptoes so as not to leave tread marks.
Just past a at-screen TV, Amy’sblue envelope sat on top of a huge gift box, wrapped in her beautiful silvery paper. Itook the envelope and the box back outside into the warm air. The object inside thepackage was heavy, a good thirty pounds, and broken into several pieces that slid witha strange rattle as I set the box on the ground at our feet. Go took an involuntary quickstep away from it. I slid open the envelope.Darling Husband,Now is when I take the time to tell you that I know you better than you couldever imagine.
I know sometimes you think you are moving through this worldalone, unseen, unnoticed. But don’t believe that for a second. I have made a studyof you. I know what you are going to do before you do it. I know where you’vebeen, and I know where you’re going. For this anniversary, I’ve arranged a trip:Follow your beloved river, up up up! And you don’t even have to worry abouttrying to nd your anniversary present.
This time the present will come to you!So sit back and relax, because you are DONE.“What’s upriver?” Go asked, and then I groaned.“She’s sending me up the river.”“Fuck her. Open the box.”I knelt down and nudged o the lid with my ngertips, as if expecting an explosion.Silence. I peered inside. At the bottom of the box lay two wooden puppets, side by side.They seemed to be husband and wife. The male was dressed in motley and grinningrabidly, holding a cane or a stick.
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