Tell Me if the Lovers Are Losers

by Cynthia Voigt

  The Munchkin sat facing her, in a matching leather chair. Her eyes stayed on Ann’s face, unblinking. She waited.

  Ann began: “You said we could ask advice.”

  A pained expression, quickly disguised into irony, passed over the round, wrinkled face.

  “In your opening day speech.”

  “Not a speech. I did so hope not to give a speech.”

  “No, of course not, I didn’t mean that.”

  “Was it so bad?” the Munchkin demanded quickly.

  “I didn’t mean that,” Ann said again. She blushed. She saw that the little woman’s feet did not touch the floor, and looked quickly away. “Miss Dennis, I . . .”

  “Want some advice,” the Munchkin finished, after a bit. “Not about men, I hope.”

  “Of course not,” Ann disclaimed quickly, and felt her face grow hot again. She lost her train of thought.

  Miss Dennis waited, again, then asked again. “Advice, you said.”

  “It’s my roommate,” Ann said. Her approach to the proposal had been so clear in her mind.

  “You can’t get along with Miss Jones.”

  “No. Not that. Give me a chance,” Ann protested.

  The gray eyes twinkled at her. “All right, here is your chance.”

  “Hildy. Miss Koenig.”

  “I remember.”

  “She has a scholarship.”

  “I know.”

  “She has no money.”

  “Yes?”

  “I shouldn’t be here talking about this, should I? I’m meddling, I know that. I’m not a meddler.”

  “I will assume that your intentions are good ones. Let that conclude the ethical quibbling. Just what is your point?”

  “Ten dollars for the whole year,” Ann continued. “And fifty cents.”

  “Ah. Not an abundance. Is she concerned about this?”

  “Hildy? No.”

  “But you are. Why is that?”

  “She can’t do things with us, like going downtown. But that’s not important. And it doesn’t bother her at all. She’ll have to stay East over the vacations, but she can come home with me—I’d like that, so that doesn’t matter But Niki noticed—Miss Jones—that Hildy’s eyes are bad. When Hildy reads, the book is no more than three inches from her eyes. Even then she squints and wrinkles up her eyebrows. You can’t read from that distance. She couldn’t afford glasses, you see.”

  “Or an eye examination.”

  “And she doesn’t like taking things, presents. Charity, Hildy calls it.” Ann debated adding this next, but decided to. “Even the scholarship.”

  The Munchkin nodded. “I’d be inclined to trust Miss Jones’s observations.”

  Ann agreed eagerly. “She told me and I watched Hildy. When Hildy writes, her face almost lies on the paper.”

  “You have an idea, I think,” Miss Dennis suggested.

  “Yes, I do. I don’t know if you know that Hildy has been running the freshman volleyball classes.”

  Miss Dennis smiled. “I heard something of it. Some words were spoken. Miss Stookings—you won’t remember her?”

  Ann shook her head.

  “The graduate instructress. She came to see me. More in sorrow than in anger, it seemed. However, since she had to agree that Miss Koenig was capable, I could see no objection to what had clearly been a successful plan. The decision was, as they say, in my province.”

  “I didn’t know that,” Ann said. “It all happened so easily.”

  “Thank you,” Miss Dennis bowed her head. Ann had relaxed enough to smile.

  “Niki will like that.”

  “You will not tell Miss Jones.”

  “Oh.”

  “Oh, indeed. But, your proposal is?”

  “Could Hildy be paid for that work? Could the College pay her for what she’s doing? Or, I could ask my parents and they could give you the money and you could say it was from the College.”

  “I think we can discount the latter, don’t you?” The Munchkin’s gaze brightened. She refilled their tea cups and sat looking into the flames. “What were you thinking of?”

  “I beg your pardon?” Ann asked.

  “How much money were you thinking of?”

  “I wasn’t,” Ann admitted.

  “Right and proper, if foolish.” Miss Dennis said. “What is the usual monthly allowance?”

  “I have no idea.”

  “Surely you have an allowance.”

  “Not exactly. My parents put money into my account when I need it.”

  “I see. Well then, I’ll think about the suggestion, and do what I judge is correct.”

  “Is it within your province?”

  “I believe so. I believe it can be put there. I am not so certain that Miss Koenig will consent to see an optometrist.”

  “Why shouldn’t she?”

  “I don’t pretend to understand Miss Koenig. But let me make a deal with you. I will do what I can about remuneration, and you will do what you can about an optometrist. Agreed?”

  “Agreed.”

  They shook hands, leaning toward one another before the fire.

  “Mine may well be the easy task,” Miss Dennis warned Ann.

  “It would be silly not to, and Hildy isn’t silly.” Ann stood up, to leave. Miss Dennis did not protest. It had all been so much easier than Ann had hoped. At the door, her sodden raincoat cold around her body, she turned to try to express her gratitude. Miss Dennis raised her eyebrows, forbidding.

  “I just want to say,” Ann said, then—unable to halt the stumbling words—“that I am really enjoying your course.” She walked out quickly into the cold rain, mumbling her thanks, wondering if she would ever be able to say things as she wanted to.

  Ann decided she would give Miss Dennis a week. If she had not heard about her proposal within a week, she would assume that the Munchkin had decided it was not suitable or had been unable to convince the College. Two days later, Hildy approached Niki with a typewritten letter. It was the long hour before dinner and Niki was working out a math problem. “What of this?” Hildy asked. Niki turned. Ann watched the scene.

  Niki read the letter. Her expression was puzzled. “Was there a check?”

  Hildy produced it. Niki looked at it, then reread the letter.

  Ann, shading an inner glow, said, “What’s going on?”

  “I am not sure,” Hildy said.

  “It seems,” Niki said, “that Hildy’s work with the volleyball class has not gone unnoticed. The Munchkin’s all-seeing eye has fallen on her.”

  “And?” Ann prompted.

  “They will pay me,” Hildy said. “That is what the letter says, isn’t it?” Niki nodded.

  “Generously,” Niki added. “They worked it all out, hours in class, hours extra.”

  “May I see?”

  The letter was from Miss Dennis. It was short and simple. The College considered a trained Physical Education Instructor to earn twenty-five dollars per class, plus twenty-five dollars a week for preparation, maintenance, etc. Hildy would be paid for half the work, by virtue of talking on half of an assignment. The enclosed check represented the salary for the past four weeks of classes. Henceforth, she would be paid by the week.

  “That is generous,” Ann said. She looked at Hildy.

  “They think of me as a trained instuctress,” Hildy said.

  “Apparently,” Niki said. “Nice going.”

  “But I didn’t ask,” Hildy said. Her eyes were puzzled. “I wonder if it is right to accept this.”

  “Hildy!”

  Niki silenced Ann with a dark glance. “Why not?” she asked. “Look. You didn’t ask, so they must have thought it was the right thing to do. There’s no reason why you shouldn’t get the usual pay, is there? You should get more than usual—you’re much better than Whoozis was. They’re just playing fair.”

  “But I have already a full scholarship,” Hildy argued. “Surely that is enough. I would think of the volleyball class as a small retu
rn to the College.”

  “Ah.” Niki grinned. “That’s it.”

  “What?” Hildy asked. “What is? What is what? Tell me.”

  “I was wondering why the Munchkin didn’t do this in person. Now I know. You’d have gone all righteous on her. You would have refused the payment—now be honest about it, Hildy—and say something devastatingly simple about your gratitude.”

  “Perhaps I would. Is that righteousness? I am not righteous, am I?”

  Niki looked at Ann. “Annie?”

  “Not righteous,” Ann soothed Hildy. “But all the time Right. Do you really think Miss Dennis couldn’t face Hildy? That doesn’t seem like her.”

  “I’m sure she had some deep and complex plan,” Niki said, “which comes down to—she didn’t want to face Hildy.”

  “Why not?” Hildy wondered.

  Niki shrugged. “You’re too tall, I guess.”

  “Not in the brain I’m not, and that is how she measures. I do not understand what she says in Philosophy lectures. I read and read and do not understand what she says. In the section meetings, Miss Dennis will answer my questions and those answers I understand. But I know she spepaks only from the surface of all her knowledge. To make things easy for me to understand.” Hildy considered, and concluded, “No, she would not be afraid of speaking directly with me.”

  “But that’s not as official,” Ann said. “Official things are what is written down and put on the record.”

  “Yes,” Hildy nodded. “So I should write and accept, to be official.”

  “There’s no question of acceptance, is there?” asked Niki.

  “Not in their letter,” Ann agreed. “Maybe just thanks?”

  “Are you sure? Then I will write to thank them.”

  “What’re you going to do with this new-found wealth?” Niki asked.

  “I shall open a bank account,” Hildy said. “I will be able to return to my family with some money. My father will approve of that. I will have a small dowry.”

  “You’re just going to bank it? All? I’m disappointed in you,” Niki said.

  “Not all. I’m going to buy myself a dress. Like that one Ann has, the one I wore to the tea. Will you come with me, Ann?”

  “Of course.” Ann was flattered, flattered and pleased.

  Niki said, “Tell you what I’d do, if I was you.”

  “What?”

  “Have my eyes checked.”

  “My eyes checked? But why?”

  Ann looked at Niki.

  “You hold the book too close when you read. Something’s wrong.”

  “No, nothing’s wrong,” Hildy said. “I have the eyes I was born with. The expense of an eye doctor—” Hildy shook her head. “I will get some school stationary from the housemother.” She left the room.

  Ann and Niki kept silence for a moment.

  “I’ll keep after her,” Niki said, watching Ann’s face. Then, shockingly, she grinned and hugged Ann, hard and brief.

  “What?”

  “I knew you’d think of a way,” Niki said. “Good job, Annie.”

  Ann allowed the glow of pleasure to spread through her before she resolutely put it aside. “There’s something I want to tell you,” she said, remembering what the Munchkin had said about Miss Stookings. “But I can’t until we graduate. Remind me on graduation.”

  “You’ll have to do it by mail,” Niki said. “I’ll be in California. But I’ll remind you—even if we haven’t kept in touch. Let’s go eat.”

  The second volleyball match was easier than the first and Hildy’s team won quickly and easily. After this match, Sarah told Hildy that she would be away for the next but one, scheduled for a Saturday. “I’m going down for the Yale-Princeton game,” she said. “Couldn’t you change the match date?”

  “I don’t think so,” Hildy said. “You will have to change your plans.”

  “I’ll need to think about that,” Sarah said.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  Niki kept after Hildy about seeing an optometrist. The variety of her approaches dazzled Ann. She spoke of a cousin who had to undergo expensive surgery after ignoring weakness in his eyes. “He’d have gone blind,” Niki said. “Hildy?” “I will not go blind,” Hildy said. “My eyes are as they have always been.”

  Niki inquired about Hildy’s regular checkups. “I have never had one.” “Didn’t the school require it?” “Why should they?”

  Or, at breakfast, “What do you see?” Niki would ask Hildy. “Tables, eggs, Ann,” Hildy answered.

  “What do you see?” Niki asked, as they walked to classes in the morning. “The sky gray and low, heavy with rain,” Hildy said. “Trees in before-winter bareness. The sidewalk white, almost as if snow had already fallen.”

  “Who is that?” Niki pointed to a distant figure. “Someone glad.”

  Ann tried once, when they were alone in the room. “What if Niki’s right about your eyes?”

  “You think she is?” Hildy asked.

  “Yes.”

  “You don’t often agree with Niki,” Hildy observed before she returned to her studies.

  Studies took a great deal of Hildy’s time. Their first set of tests and papers had not been graded, so Ann had no plumbline for judging Hildy’s abilities, but the amount of time Hildy spent at her studies roused Ann’s curiosity. However, Hildy did find an hour, her first free afternoon, to go shopping with Ann. “Find me a dress like yours,” Hildy directed her.

  Ann protested.

  “You’ll know it,” Hildy argued. “I was pretty in that dress, but I could not find it for myself.”

  “You’re pretty in anything,” Ann said. It was the simple truth.

  “That dress was particular,” Hildy said.

  Ann agreed, and found Hildy a Lanz of similar style and fabric. Hildy did not like the price (“That is three times what I have ever paid”); because it was what she wanted, she bought it.

  The third freshman volleyball match was another easy victory. After it, Hildy formally challenged the lowest sophomore team, for the next Saturday.

  Sarah came over in the evening to talk with Hildy. “I can’t play,” she said.

  Hildy nodded.

  “No, you’ve got to listen, Hildy. I called and asked if he’d understand. I tried to explain how I felt, and how you feel, and who you are and what you’re like. But he—Timmy, Timmy said that the weekend was important to him.”

  Hildy nodded.

  “He doesn’t say that lightly. And Hildy, it’s the only time I’ll get to see him before Christmas. He’s—I couldn’t go all the way until Christmas vacation without seeing him. I miss him, do you know what that means?”

  “Yes, I know,” Hildy said. “I can understand.”

  “So you understand why I can’t play?”

  “No,” Hildy said. “I can understand that it is a difficult choice for you.”

  “Are you angry?”

  “Not angry,” Hildy said.

  “Fat lot of good that does me. Ann?” Sarah asked for help.

  “Couldn’t we change the date?” Ann asked.

  “No,” Hildy said. “It is worked in among many other matches.”

  “Why don’t we play it Sunday afternoon. You could get back by late Sunday, couldn’t you, Sarah?”

  “If I left early in the morning,” Sarah said. She turned the idea over in her mind. “I’d do that, Hildy. Can we play it on Sunday?”

  “Not Sunday,” Hildy said.

  “Why not?”

  “It is the Sabbath.”

  “But we’ve practiced on Sundays,” Sarah said.

  “We do not play matches on a Sunday,” Hildy said.

  “That doesn’t make sense,” Ann said. “Be fair. You’re not being fair.”

  “I am. Sarah has made her choice. I have said nothing to sway her.”

  “Does this mean,” Sarah stood at the door, “that I am off the team?” She put her hands into her pockets. “I really don’t want to be dropped.”


  “Why should you be dropped?” Hildy sounded surprised.

  “Hildy,” Ann said, “what about those people who didn’t come to the first practice? Remember?”

  “They had said they would come and then did not,” Hildy explained, as if it were the most obvious distinction imaginable, as if surprised that such a thought should not cross their minds. “Sarah has not done that. She has merely made a choice.”

  “Boy, I’m glad I told you as soon as I knew.”

  “Who’ll take her place?”

  “Eloise will.”

  “Who will take Eloise’s place?”

  “No one. We do not need seven players, only six.”

  “That’s OK then,” Sarah said. “I’m sorry, Hildy.”

  “I know that,” Hildy said.

  After Sarah left, Hildy did not return to her work, but remained facing Ann, her face puzzled.

  Ann tried to explain: “You were so unyielding, that other time. I can see why she thought she’d be dropped.”

  “Then you also did not understand?”

  “No. Was I supposed to?”

  “It doesn’t matter Am I allowed to ask you to help me?”

  “What?” Ann said. “What are you talking about.”

  “I wrote a theme. In English. The professor has given it back to me. He has instructed me to rewrite it.”

  Ann had never heard of such a thing.

  “He says it is not good enough. I must do a better job,” Hildy said. “But I can’t do better: this was the best I could do. I wonder if you could read it and help me make it better. Is that allowed?”

  “Of course. As long as you’re the one who writes it. What do you want me to do?”

  “Read it, I think, don’t you? And then tell me what the mistakes are and how to correct them? And then—”

  “Just give it to me,” Ann said. “We’ll get to the and then’s later. You’re a babe in the woods, Hildy.”

  “I think so,” Hildy said. She gave Ann three handwritten pages. “It is also too short, he said. I’ve never had themes to write for English before. So I don’t know what is expected. Can you tell me that? And explain how I can learn to do it?”

  “Stop talking,” Ann said.

  The paper was untitled. Hildy’s topic was, apparently, names in the Odyssey. Ann read the paper slowly. It wasn’t about names, by the time she got to the end. What was it about? Recognition? Self-knowledge?