She said, “What are you doing? Tell me, I want to know.”
I didn't answer her.
The blind man said, “We're drawing a cathedral. Me and him are working on it. Press hard,” he said to me. “That's right. That's good,” he said. “Sure. You got it, bub. I can tell. You didn't think you could. But you can, can't you? You're cooking with gas now. You know what I'm saying? We're going to really have us something here in a minute. How's the old arm?” he said. “Put some people in there now. What's a cathedral without people?”
My wife said, “What's going on? Robert, what are you doing? What's going on?”
“It's all right,” he said to her. “Close your eyes now,” the blind man said to me.
I did it. I closed them just like he said.
“Are they closed?” he said. “Don't fudge.”
“They're closed,” I said.
“Keep them that way,” he said. He said, “Don't stop now. Draw.”
So we kept on with it. His fingers rode my fingers as my hand went over the paper. It was like nothing else in my life up to now.
Then he said, “I think that's it. I think you got it,” he said. “Take a look. What do you think?”
But I had my eyes closed. I thought I'd keep them that way for a little longer. I thought it was something I ought to do.
“Well?” he said. “Are you looking?”
My eyes were still closed. I was in my house. I knew that. But I didn't feel like I was inside anything.
“It's really something,” I said.