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I
know
,
I
know
,
a
house
full
of
condiments
and
no
real
food
.
The
doorman
blew
his
nose
and
something
went
into
his
handkerchief
with
the
good
slap
of
a
pitch
into
a
catcher
's
mitt
.
You
could
go
up
to
the
fifteen
floor
,
the
doorman
said
,
but
nobody
could
go
into
the
unit
.
Police
orders
.
The
police
had
been
asking
,
did
I
have
an
old
girlfriend
who
'd
want
to
do
this
or
did
I
make
an
enemy
of
somebody
who
had
access
to
dynamite
.
"
It
was
n't
worth
going
up
,
"
the
doorman
said
.
"
All
that
's
left
is
the
concrete
shell
.
"
The
police
had
n't
ruled
out
arson
.
No
one
had
smelled
gas
.
The
doorman
raises
an
eyebrow
.
This
guy
spent
his
time
flirting
with
the
day
maids
and
nurses
who
worked
in
the
big
units
on
the
top
floor
and
waited
in
the
lobby
chairs
for
their
rides
after
work
.
Three
years
I
lived
here
,
and
the
doorman
still
sat
reading
his
Ellery
Queen
magazine
every
night
while
I
shifted
packages
and
bags
to
unlock
the
front
door
and
let
myself
in
.
The
doorman
raises
an
eyebrow
and
says
how
some
people
will
go
on
a
long
trip
and
leave
a
candle
,
a
long
,
long
candle
burning
in
a
big
puddle
of
gasoline
.
People
with
financial
difficulties
do
this
stuff
.
People
who
want
out
from
under
.
I
asked
to
use
the
lobby
phone
.
"
A
lot
of
young
people
try
to
impress
the
world
and
buy
too
many
things
,
"
the
doorman
said
.
I
called
Tyler
.
The
phone
rang
in
Tyler
's
rented
house
on
Paper
Street
.
