Heroic Measures (Vintage Contemporaries)

Heroic Measures (Vintage Contemporaries)

Jill Ciment

Language: English

Pages: 208

ISBN: 0307386783

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub

The basis for the major motion picture 5 Flights Up starring Diane Keaton and Morgan Freeman.

New York City is on high alert—a gasoline truck is “stuck” in the Midtown tunnel and the driver has fled. Through panic and gridlock, Alex and Ruth must transport their beloved old dachshund—whose back legs are suddenly paralyzed—to the animal hospital, using a cutting board as a stretcher.  But this is also the weekend when Alex and Ruth must sell the apartment in which they have lived for most of their adult lives. Over the course of forty-eight hours, as the mystery of the missing truck driver terrorizes the city and the dachshund’s life hangs in the balance, the bidding war over their apartment becomes a barometer for collective hope and despair.  Told in shifting points of view—Alex’s, Ruth’s, and the little dog’s—Heroic Measures is a moving, deft novel about urban anxiety and the love that deepens over years.

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The couple upset about the pigeons in the air shaft. “Are they permanent?” they ask Lily. “I don’t think they’re migratory,” she says. Another assault ensues: the pianist trying to calculate if the century-old floor joists can bear the weight of his baby grand, never mind that it won’t fit through the door; two men curious to know if the co-op would prevent them from tearing down the kitchen wall to open up the space; the horse-faced woman in sweatpants and yellow rubbers asking if the co-op.

Beta-carotene. There’s also a promising new drug called Adequan.” “We’ll have to clear off another shelf in the medicine cabinet for her,” Alex says. “Can she still run around if she’s able?” Ruth asks. “Just let her be a dog.” He waits for another question, but Ruth and Alex can’t think of one. “The nurse will be coming for Dorothy in a few minutes. I’d let her go home with you now, but after that seizure I’d like to keep her one more night.” When he closes the door behind him, Ruth says, “I.

Park? She blows out the Yahrzeit candle and can’t help but remember her parents—the deeply religious egg-peddler who refused to make an extra nickel off the war’s black market and her pragmatic, embittered mother. She goes into their bedroom and lies down, getting under the covers as if she’s coming down with a fever. It takes her a moment or two to realize what, exactly, she’s burning up with—shame. She’s no more willing to give up ten thousand dollars than anyone else. There you have it,.

Point in looking for a taxi; the whole East Side is still log-jammed. They could walk home faster, if it wasn’t so cold and far, and they weren’t so exhausted and sad. “Should we try the subway?” Alex asks. “I’m not riding in any tunnels tonight,” Ruth says. Near the bus stop, a woman dressed in a fur coat and house slippers comes out her lobby door and peers down Second Avenue. Brake lights recede to infinity. A news helicopter circles overhead. Police part traffic to let a caravan of armored.

Stupid test prove? Does he think he can outrun death? Does he think if he doesn’t waste time, time won’t waste him? Alex is already in the apartment when she finally catches up. She reaches for the light switch. Dorothy’s rubber mailman, her squeaky hot dog, her tennis ball lay scattered on the floor, her leash and winter sweater hang on a hook. In the kitchen, her untouched bowl waits between their chairs, her mess lays pooled on the tiles. Ruth sheds her coat, picks up a roll of paper towels.

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