Wakefield Page #3

was quite rational.

May I remind you

I was eating actual garbage

to survive?

Oh.

Come on back.

Come on, honey, come back,

come back.

Come back,

come back, come back.

There you are.

About my wife's

deliberate nudity.

Apparently

it's a side effect of her

having once been

a modern dancer.

Briefly.

I feel compelled to add.

Who exactly are you trying

to attract out there?

No one can see me

and if they can, I don't care.

Uh, clearly.

Strutting around this house

on full display.

Would it kill you

to put some clothes on

in front of our girls?

No, I'm not gonna

teach our daughters

to have shame

about having a body.

What if I started

parading naked

around them, huh?

What'd you think about that?

Hey, look at me!

Whoo, daddy's naked!

Mr. prude-o in the nude-o.

Hey, look at me,

I'm going to work naked!

Right, right, right.

Jesus.

Would you get away from there?

There's no one there, Howard.

Oh.

Seeing my wife in the nude,

oddly enough

usually got me

thinking about money.

I've only a slender amount

of cash with me.

And if it's my intention

to vanish completely

using a credit card

is out of the question.

I could pre-date a bank check

and cash it somewhere, yes.

But that might signal

to Diana

that my disappearance

was pre-meditated.

Which, I don't know,

seems unnecessarily cool.

It's not difficult

to run away.

People ditch their families

all the time.

But if this were

a simple abandonment of wife

and children, I'd have

written Diana a note

taken my car out

of the garage

driven to Manhattan,

checked into a hotel

and walked to work

in the morning.

Easy. Anyone can do that.

But you'd still be

the same person.

This is different.

You see..

...i no longer seem

to require those things

that only days ago

were so indispensable.

The armor of a clean shirt

the smooth shave

credit cards, cellphones

clients.

There will be no more

getting on that train.

I'll take nothing more

from her.

Nothing from that house.

Ever.

I'll sustain myself

like a castaway.

A survivor.

Undetected.

Unshackled.

I'll become

the Howard Wakefield

I was meant to be.

Oh, please.

You've imagined doing this

yourself. I know you have.

But what about

the twins you ask?

No regrets there.

In their current phase

our girls generally

think of me

as some kind

of unfortunate oddity

who embarrasses them

in front of their friends.

Believe me

I'm seeing more

of these two now

than I have in months,

if not years.

And I'm sure

it's not lost on you.

Though I might have

left my wife

I'll still be able

to keep an eye on her.

Ah.

There we go.

Did I ever miss

the conveniences of home?

Oh!

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