Sam

by Jack Weyland

  He was now touching his nose, feeling its shape, moving it from side to side. It was gross to watch.

  “You’ve really neglected your body, haven’t you,” Julie said.

  “I concentrated on my mind.”

  “And I’ve concentrated on the body. There’s so much we could teach each other, isn’t there? Tell me, do you ever get any exercise—swimming, for instance?”

  “Oh, sure, I swim. I’m an Eagle Scout.”

  “You’re an Eagle Scout?” she asked in awe. “That’s so wonderful! Tell me some other things about yourself.”

  “Sometimes I go swimming on campus. I like to submerge and sit motionless on the bottom of the pool.”

  “No kidding! I go swimming all the time. Wait! I think I”ve seen you on the bottom!”

  “I went last Thursday.”

  “I saw you! I asked the lifeguard to check if you’d drowned. Do you remember seeing me there?”

  “Without my glasses, I can’t see anything.”

  He was still touching his nose. “Can I ask you a personal question?”

  “I guess so.”

  “What do you do about nose hairs?”

  I escaped to the kitchen. Lara was a flurry of efficiency.

  “How’s it going in there?” she asked.

  “You wouldn’t believe it—we’ve created a monster.”

  “Things are about ready here,” she said.

  “Lara, do you like to cook?”

  “Sure—why?”

  “Just wondering.”

  On my way back I swiped an olive.

  Julie was massaging Paul’s scalp again. His glasses were off, his eyes were closed, and he was very relaxed.

  “I went on a mission to Nebraska,” he said slowly.

  “Tell me about it.”

  “Well, it’s mostly rural, you know.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yes, they have farms and ranches in Nebraska. More farms in eastern Nebraska, but more ranches in western Nebraska.”

  “How do they ever decide on something like that?”

  “I think it depends on the type of soil.”

  “Oh, right, it would, wouldn’t it. You’re so smart.”

  “Now you tell me about yourself,” Paul said.

  “Well, I”m a PE major—let’s see—I teach the family relations class in Sunday School.”

  “ I think family relations are important—especially to a family,” Paul said drowsily.

  “That’s so true. Some couples, before they get married, don’t sit down and talk about important things—like how many children they want.”

  “I want as many as my wife and I can stand—I mean handle.”

  “Oh, I agree.”

  “You do?”

  “And we’re taught that communications are important to a marriage. A husband and wife should be able to talk—well, like we are tonight.”

  There was magic between them. Here they were, involved in one of the all-time dumb conversations, yet there were sparks flying between them.

  “Paul, you know so much. I’ve never known a scientist before,” she said, finishing her scalp massage and sitting down near him.

  “I know the laws that govern matter and energy. Because of that, I understand the universe.”

  “Well, that’s quite a lot, isn’t it?” Julie said. “I don't know that much, but I do know the rule for all games involving a ball—you know, football, baseball, volleyball.”

  “Since you’re in Physical Education, maybe you can help me. My mother says I walk like a duck. My own mother! You can imagine what strangers say. Can you help me?”

  “Sure I will. C’mon,” she said, pulling him to his feet.

  They walked slowly out the living room with Julie making sure his feet pointed straight ahead. In a minute they were back.

  “Sam, look at my feet!”

  They left again, taking a route through the dining room into a hall and back to the living room.

  “Of course,” Julie said on their return trip, “we have an advantage, being members of the Church. Starting with a temple marriage, kneeling in the temple together, committing to love each other for time and eternity. Well, it’s very important to me. I don’t want anything less, do you?”

  They were gone again.

  “It hasn’t been easy, has it,” Julie said on the next trip, looking at his temple recommend. “Keeping yourself worthy—there are plenty of opportunities to go wrong in this life.”

  Paul stopped walking. “There are?”

  Lara came into the living room. “Well, it’s finally ready. I bet you’ve all been starving to death.”

  “Oh, no,” Paul said. “This has been one of the most interesting times of my life. In these few minutes, Julie’s taught me how to walk and what to do with nose hairs.”

  Lara’s mouth fell open.

  Julie took Paul’s arm, and they walked grandly into the dining room with their feet straight ahead.

  “If my mother could see me now!” Paul exclaimed.

  Lara looked at me and I shrugged my shoulders.

  “Lara,” Julie asked, “did you know Paul is an Eagle Scout?”

  “After supper,” Paul confidently announced, “if you want, I’ll teach you all semaphore signaling.”

  * * * * *

  Chapter Nine

  Lara and I were coming out of a concert. Parked beside my car was a Jaguar sports car. I stood and admired it.

  “Commandment number ten,” she joked. “Thou shalt not covet.”

  A few blocks later, I asked how she knew it was the tenth of the Ten Commandments.

  “Oh,” she said, a little embarrassed, “it’s just a little memory trick I use. It’s really nothing.”

  “I’m interested—tell me about it.”

  Her face clouded over. “It’s really kind of dumb. You don't really want me to bore you with it.”

  “C’mon, I’m curious.”

  “I”m not supposed to talk about it with someone I’m dating.”

  “Why not?”

  “A guy has to feel superior around a girl, and if he doesn’t, he leaves. That’s what all my roommates in college, who are all married now, used to say.”

  “Oh, c’mon, just tell me.”

  “All right. Commandment number one—think of one and only. Thou shalt have no other gods before me. Okay? One—one and only.”

  I nodded my head.

  “Commandment number two—think of zoo. A zoo has statues of lions and tigers. Statues are graven images. Commandment number two—think of zoo—Thou shalt not make unto thee any graven images. Got it?”

  “Sure,” I said nonchalantly, but feeling a little threatened.

  “Commandment number three—think of tree. A tree has leaves, a leaf has veins. Commandment number three—Thou shalt not take the name of the Lord in vain.

  “Commandment number four—think of door. A door has a keyhole, which reminds you of holy. Commandment number four—Thou shalt keep the Sabbath Day holy.”

  I was looking at her with my mouth wide open.

  “Commandment number five—think of drive. Your parents are taking you out for a drive. Five—think of drive—think of parents. Commandment number five—Honor your father and mother.”

  “Commandment number six—think of sticks. You could kill somebody with a stick. Commandment number six—Thou shalt not kill.”

  I felt a large drop of sweat roll down my arm.

  “Commandment number seven—think of heaven. You can’t go to heaven if you commit adultery and don’t repent. Seven—think of heaven—you can’t get there with adultery. Commandment number seven—Thou shalt not commit adultery.

  “Commandment number eight—think of gate. You need gates to keep away robbers. Eight—think of gate—think of robbers. Commandment number eight—Thou shalt not steal.”

  “Oh, sure,” I said, my head whirling.

  “Commandment number nine—think of lying. Thou shalt not bear false witness.
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  “Commandment number ten—think of hen.You wish you could have your neighbor’s chicken. Ten—hen. Thou shalt not covet.

  “It’s so simple, isn’t it?” she said enthusiastically. “On my mission I used the same idea to memorize scriptures. I found it was really easy to learn about five hundred scriptures that way.”

  “Oh,” I said, wondering if I knew fifty scriptures.

  “It’s sort of a hobby. When I was in college I read this book, let’s see—it was called The Memory Book. It taught all these little tricks. I got so every week I was memorizing a Time magazine.”

  I was getting a bad headache.

  “Oh, you memorize Time magazines,” I said numbly.

  “It’s really easy. I used to do it for my roommates, but they told me never to tell any guy I liked about it. They said it would intimidate him, and he’d never feel comfortable around me again. You’re the first guy I’ve ever told. You don’t feel intimidated, do you?”

  “Oh, no,” I said.

  “Then why is your forehead sweating so much?”

  “Okay, maybe a little. I had to have my mother sew the combination of my gym locker on the inside of my gym shorts.”

  “Well, silly, that’s why I’m here. Just tell me the combination, and I’ll make up a little rhyme so you can remember it.”

  “I don’t know it—it’s in my gym shorts at home.” I wiped my forehead. “I think your roommates were right.”

  “You feel intimidated?”

  “It’s like dating Albert Einstein.”

  “Sam, can’t we be a team? I’ll teach you things about memorizing, and you teach me about racquetball and fishing. Is it a deal?”

  “Deal,” I said weakly, “reminds you of creel, which is what you need for fishing.”

  At that moment I’d have given anything to be with a girl whose greatest challenge in life so far had been passing her driver’s exam.

  * * * * *

  The next day Lara went with me to a clown training session. We spent half an hour tumbling and learning to take falls. For practice we went outside the church and practiced walking into the flagpole, letting our feet strike the pole an instant before our heads touched it. With enough practice, it sounds like you’ve cracked your head very hard.

  Than we worked out some standard clown dialogue and routines.

  A day later I went to her house and spent fifteen enjoyable minutes looking into her eyes—applying clown makeup, creating a clown character.

  “If you get any of that powder in my eyes, my contacts’ll never be the same,” she warned.

  “I used to know a girl who wore contacts. The first time I kissed her, one of them fell out.”

  “Probably a poor fit.”

  “Could be it was just the thrill of kissing me.”

  “I doubt it,” she teased. “I’ve worn these on the roller coaster, and they stayed on fine—and I doubt if kissing you beats that.”

  A minute later, she asked, “Sam, was that your wife you were talking about?”

  “Yes.”

  “I thought so. You can tell me about her—I mean you don’t have to hide her from me by saying ‘a girl I once knew.’ I know you’ve been married, and that you loved her, and you always will. Okay?”

  “Thanks. Most people won’t let me talk about her. When I start, they get nervous and tell me I have to start new life now. I know that, but Lara, she was terrific. I want people to know about her. She was a good person, but she didn’t intimidate anyone. Everybody loved her.”

  I talked about Charly. When I finished, Lara agreed Charly was one in a million. “But there’s at least one person intimidated by her, and that’s me. When we’re together and we pass some place, like Liberty Park, and you quit talking and look very sad, I know you’re thinking about her. Minutes slip by and I know I’ve lost you to her. After a while, you come back to me. Is it always going to be like that?”

  “I don’t know. She’s still with me.”

  That dampened our conversation for a while. I applied a foundation of clown white to her face.

  “Sam, do I intimidate you?”

  “A little. The trouble with us is we’re equal. Mission, college, work—I don’t have an edge on you in anything.”

  “That threatens you?”

  “A woman is supposed to—”

  “Not compete with men?” she suggested.

  “No, she can compete—it’s just that she—”

  “Shouldn’t do better than men.”

  “Well, not exactly,” I stammered. “You see, a woman has a certain role—”

  “Being mediocre?”

  “No, she can excel in certain areas.”

  “Making the bed, washing the dishes?”

  “Lara, you know what the Church teaches. A woman’s place is in the home, being a wife and mother.”

  “Terrific—I agree with that. But not every girl in the Church is guaranteed she’ll be asked by a worthy man, so she needs two possible paths in life. Being a wife and mother is the first priority for a Latter-day Saint woman, but the second is having a meaningful career. If she doesn’t get married, you can’t expect her to sit home and wait by the phone her whole life, can you?”

  “I guess not.”

  “And even if she gets married, it’ll be insurance for her to have a marketable skill in case her husband passes away and she has to raise the family alone.”

  “Okay.”

  “Good, I’m glad you agree, because I really like my job. Sure, it’s only selling women’s clothes in a store, but I’m very good at it. At first I was hired only as a part-time bookkeeper, but one day when someone was sick my boss, Steve, asked me to try selling. I did well from the start. And I’ve used my memory tricks to associate the names and faces of our regular customers. Now they ask for me when they come in. Steve keeps telling me I should start working Saturdays, but I’ve resisted, because then I couldn’t be with you. But, Sam, I’m good at what I do. I’m one of the best.”

  “But when you try to be the best, you compete with a man whose family depends on him.”

  “Then he’d better work harder, because I’m not letting up.”

  “What if somebody labels you as a pushy woman?”

  “But you give the same traits to a man, and he’s called a man with initiative.”

  “Okay, but let me ask you one question—do you support priesthood direction by a husband in a home?”

  “I knew you were going to ask that. Yes, I do. Why? Is this a proposal?”

  “No.”

  “Okay then, don’t ask me to do less than my best in my job.”

  I decided to avoid the subject in the future.

  “Do you speak German?”

  “A little, why” Does that intimidate you, too?”

  “No, I’m turning you into Fran the Frazzled Fraulein.” I finished by placing a ridiculous red wig on her head, with hair sticking out as though she’d been electrocuted. I started to laugh.

  She stood up and looked in the mirror and burst out laughing, too.

  “That’s the real me?”

  “Yes,” I grinned.

  She practiced in front of the mirror and slowly became Fran with a gutteral fractured English-German accent.

  An hour later, we headed for the hospital to meet our friends and entertain the children.

  First we went around individually to each child, performing tricks or giving out crayons and coloring books. Then we gave a show in one of the large waiting rooms for those who were well enough to see it.

  Afterwards we changed our clothes and took Adam to the zoo. On the way, he sat between us and made eyes at Lara. By the time we arrived, he was on her lap, being cuddled by her and loving every minute of it. At the zoo, we visited the animals and Lara imitated the sounds of each one. A couple of times they answered her, sending Adam into giggles.

  When he saw the elephants, he stared running too fast and fell down, scraping his knees and arms. He stood up crying, ran towar
d us, ignored me, and fell into Lara’s arms for love and comfort.

  On the way home, he chanted, “My mommy, my daddy, my mommy.”

  Neither of us commented on the chant.

  * * * * *

  Saturday we took Paul and Julie with us for some boating and fishing.

  After an hour of buzzing around the lake, we anchored in a cove to try some fishing. Lara and I both took a nap while Paul taught Julie how to play chess.

  After a while I woke up and checked the lines, then lay back down with my fishing cap over my face.

  “Tell me again how the bishops move,” I heard her say.

  “Sideways,” Paul answered.

  “I knew a bishop once who moved like that—he was a little overweight.” After a few seconds she said, “There, that’s my move.”

  “Checkmate.”

  After a pause, she asked, “Tell me again what that means.”

  “It means I can take your king on the next move. The game’s over.”

  “Over? Why? I still have plenty of others left. My queen can take over.”

  “When the king is gone, the game is over.”

  “I’ll bet a man made up this game.”

  Paul laughed and it sounded relaxed and human. Being with Julie had helped him.

  “Julie,” he said enthusiastically, “look how blue the sky is.”

  “I know—isn’t it beautiful!”

  “I know why the sky is blue.”

  “Me, too,” she said. “Because that’s the way Heavenly Father made it.”

  “I know another reason.”

  “What’s the other reason?”

  “The blue color of the sky is caused by the wavelength dependence of the scattering of sunlight by molecules in the atmosphere.”

  Silence, followed by, “I like my answer better.”

  “And do you see little blobs when you look at the sky?”

  “What?”

  “Little blobs, like little circles. When you blink, they move.”

  Seconds passed. “I see them! Some are in long chains. What are they?”

  “Loose blood cells inside your eye floating around.”

  “Oh, Paul, you’re so smart. Tell me some more.”

  “Matter is made up of neutrons, protons, and electrons.”

  “I know electrons!” she exclaimed. “They make electricity!”

  “That’s right,” Paul laughed.