“You’re a lock for a partnership, aren’t you?”
“I’ve ruffled some feathers lately. Nothing is guaranteed at that firm.”
“Don’t I know it? Hey, if they do make you a partner, do you have to throw out all of your colored shirts?”
“The only thing I’m required to dispose of is my personality. I get to keep all of my clothing. I just can’t wear anything but gray and white to the office.”
She laughed and studied the room for a minute. She looked back at me, but didn’t say anything right away. To fill the void, I said, “I’ve been really getting into Melissa Argent’s music lately.”
Kate nodded and rolled her eyes. I had no idea what the gesture meant. “She’s pretty hot these days, about as hot as a concert pianist can get. You’d never know she once got a B in chorus when we were in middle school.”
“See, there’s something you could sell to one of the tabloids.”
“Yeah. That would probably qualify as dirt in Melissa’s case.”
“So what’s she like?”
Kate tilted her head and studied me for a moment. It almost seemed as though she was going to ignore the question, but then she sat back in her seat. “You’d probably be better off asking someone from the tabloids. We were best friends, but that was in school. If you had ever been a high school girl, you would know what that means.”
I had no idea what she was talking about. “What was she like back then? I mean you can read her bio on the Internet. but what was she really like?”
“You have a serious little crush going here, don’t you? You want to me to describe Melissa? What can I tell you? You remember those perfect kids you went to school with? The ones who got straight A’s in all the important classes, edited the school newspaper, put together the yearbook. That was Melissa. I was a decent student, but I did my share of partying. Not Melissa. She didn’t have time. Melissa was always involved with something, whether it was school work or some after-school project. It was like she was a robot programmed to keep moving.”
“She wasn’t a robot,” I said defensively.
Kate offered me another confused look. Again, she stared off toward the front of the bar. She shrugged. “No, she wasn’t, actually. If you want to know the truth, she was a very, very good friend. We were in the Girl Scouts together, she helped me with my homework, and I helped her meet her first boyfriend.”
“Really? What was he like?”
Kate gazed off dreamily. “Steven Santori. What a babe. He was vice president of the junior class, and he was...why am I telling you this? Men always have to know what other men get, like it’s a competition. Let’s just say he was a good catch and for a while it looked like they might become serious. Until he dumped her for a cheerleader who two months later dumped him. So maybe I didn’t do her any favors.” She threw her hands up in a questioning gesture. “But she did plenty for me. Helped me through some pretty rough patches in those years. I’m certain I would have done the same for her. The only thing was she didn’t have any. Not that I saw, anyway, and I think I saw everything. Melissa was just one of those people who got it right.”
Kate hadn’t seen everything, as I well knew. But perhaps in this world she had. “So what happened between you? It sounds like you were pretty close.”
“Nothing. Not a fight or anything like that, anyway. We just went our separate ways, that’s all. She was into music, and I was on a pre-law track. We went to different colleges and both studied very intently. Neither of us made it back to D.C. very often, and when we did, we didn’t have much time to see each other. After she went to Europe, we totally lost contact.”
“That’s sad. Good friends shouldn’t lose each other like that.”
Kate cupped her chin on her palms. “You seem different, Ken. It isn’t just that we haven’t seen each other in a while. You seem to have more – I don’t know – gravity now.”
“Is that bad?”
Her smile lit the dimness. “No, not at all. It’s kind of nice, actually. When I knew you at the firm, you were a smart guy who was definitely up and coming, but you were also a little immature – a bit of a frat boy. You look like you finally figured out that the world is a serious place.”
“Yeah,” I said softly, perhaps too softly for her to hear. “Maybe I have.”
Kate’s eyes twinkled and she leaned forward in her chair. “Except, of course, for this fascination you have with Melissa Argent. If you were going to fixate on a celebrity, shouldn’t you have chosen one who was a little more mainstream? Or at least one who wore shorter dresses?”
“I have a great imagination,” I said, smiling.
“I’m sure you do.”
I rolled my eyes and Kate did the same. We laughed. “Anyway, you’ve had absolutely no contact with Melissa since high school?”
“Not one bit. She’s making a name for herself, so she’s probably forgotten all about the little people.” Kate paused and tilted her head. “Really, Ken, why all this interest in Melissa? You didn’t really call to get together just so we could talk about her, did you?”
“No, no, of course not,” I said quickly. “You and I never should have lost touch. I guess Melissa just provided me with an easy excuse to call you.”
“That has always cracked me up.”
“What has?”
“The way people talk about public figures using their first names. Like, you know, you listen to her music in your underwear so that means you’re intimate.”
I found the comment insulting, but I didn’t want to respond forcefully. I simply said, “Sorry.”
Kate reached over and patted my hand. “I’m just having some fun at your expense. Trust me, I do it, too. I spent the whole weekend with my soulmate Johnny – Depp, that is – and a bunch of his DVDs about a month ago.”
I’m sure I sounded just like that to Kate. I sought a way to back out of it. I needed to make the connection to Melissa carefully or risk losing it entirely. “So what have you been up to since you left the firm?”
Kate gave me another one of those indecipherable nods and sat back again. “Thanks for asking. I’m doing great. Still running the legal rat race, which you certainly know about. I’m doing back flips for a partnership, too. I was almost engaged – emphasis on ‘almost.’ To an accountant I was seeing until a couple of weeks ago. Turned out we couldn’t reconcile our balance sheets.” She laughed cynically and took a big swig of beer.
“You’re not seeing anyone now?”
“Nope. I’m out on the free agent market again.” She laughed loudly. “Bidders are knocking down my door, of course.”
“Of course,” I said with a smile.
Kate drained her beer and held it toward me. “I need another.”
I stood. My ginger ale was still half full. “I’ll get it.”
She put a hand out to stop me. “My turn.” She looked down at my drink. “What is that, anyway?”
“Ginger ale.”
“Any particular reason?”
I shrugged. “I like ginger ale.”
“I like hot chocolate, but I wouldn’t drink it in a bar.”
“I’m cutting back on the alcohol.”
“Wow, I’m impressed. Want another?”
“I’m fine.”
Kate twirled and entered the scrum to get another drink. Why would she be impressed that I was cutting back on alcohol? Was that something to be impressed by?
When she returned to our table, she clinked her bottle against my glass and then took a long drink. The she put the bottle down and watched me. “Gravity and sobriety. It’s the new, improved Ken Timian.”
“I’m working on it.”
“With a particular person in mind?”
“Maybe.”
Kate smiled, though I wasn’t sure what she was smiling about.
“Did
you hear that Melissa broke up recently with that guitarist?” I said.
Kate sighed. She seemed supremely disappointed. “We’re back on that topic?”
“From everything I’ve heard, he’s kind of a jerk. I wonder why she started dating him in the first place. He’s definitely not good enough for her.”
Kate glared at me. “You know what? This is getting a little creepy. Creepy and boring. You may be sober, and you may have more gravity, Ken, but you’ve also got some weird shit going on.”
“I’m not some obsessive fan,” I said quickly. “I just keep talking about her in front of you because I know you know her.”
“Knew her, Ken. Knew her. I haven’t seen her in more than a decade. I get the impression, though, that you see her in your dreams every night. That’s more than a little bizarre.”
“It’s not what you think.”
“I think it’s exactly what I think.” Kate stood up and I stood with her. She put a hand out to halt me.
“Where are you going?” I said.
“This has been a real blast, Ken. Call me if you ever find all of your marbles.”
Chapter 18
The Realest Thing in This World
The silver arrow was motionless and yet it soared over us.
“It flew into outer space,” I said, feeling the awe I always felt when I was here.
“It’s pretty incredible, isn’t it?” Paul said, his voice filled with wonder. We craned our necks to get a better view of the X-15 rocket plane suspended from the ceiling. With its razor-sharp wings and sleek nose, it looked ready to slip its restraints and blast a hole through the museum wall.
The Melissa who wore my ring relaxed by going to art museums. Her fiancé preferred the National Air and Space Museum. She called it “The Hall of Flying Gadgets,” and always felt the need to remind me that these planes and missiles diverted precious resources from human needs. I could never make her understand that these machines helped us to dream. There was power behind these latticed walls; power and achievement that one could almost reach out and touch. It was one of the areas upon which we agreed to disagree.
The day after my fiasco with Kate, I asked Paul if he wanted to meet for lunch. He suggested Chinatown, but I felt a need for something more elevated, something that might make me wonder again. We decided to meet at the Air and Space Museum cafe, a hectic room busily dispensing hot dogs to throngs of tourists who would eat the carpet if you put enough mustard on it.
We took a quick stroll through the museum before we ate. Though he probably knew most of this, I explained the histories of the various planes and rockets. I knew them all. The Spitfire and the Messerschmitt in the World War II section, like predators in their camouflage colors. The little Mercury capsules that first took Americans into orbit, dwarfed by the huge Skylab and the spidery Lunar Module that landed on the moon. There was something about each one of these vehicles that captured my imagination, and when I stood among them, everything seemed a little more possible.
I remembered the first time Melissa and I came here, after an afternoon looking at sculpture. Her arm was wrapped around my waist as we jostled through the perpetual crowds. After seeing the warplanes, we visited the solar system exhibit. Jupiter was shimmering in its multi-hued immensity, Saturn was basking in the glory of its rings, and Io’s red volcanic skin made me hungry for pizza.
“This is the one part of the museum I really like,” Melissa said with a satisfied sigh. “Look how magnificent nature is, Ken. What can compare to Saturn’s rings or the colors of those moons? All this technology here seems so insignificant compared to the glory of nature.”
“You think so? I’ll show you something that isn’t insignificant.” I took her to the Apollo hall, where spacesuits and space memorabilia of man’s greatest achievement lay behind glass cases. I pointed to a Saturn V rocket engine as wide as our kitchen. “This is the ultimate. Look at those rocket engines. Man made the inconceivable a reality with the help of these.”
Melissa shook her head. “You’re right, Ken, it’s all very impressive. But how could this possibly compare to the majesty of nature and creation?”
“You’re not blown away by this?”
“It’s awesome, you’re right. But is it necessary? Is it really essential for us to overwhelm the forces of nature for the sake of conquest?”
I thought about overwhelming the forces of nature now as I stood before the same rocket with Paul.
“It’s just so amazing when you think about it,” he said.
“It is, isn’t it?”
“Too bad you can’t book passage on these things. I’d get my ticket tomorrow.”
He smiled as though he was a little embarrassed that he’d said that, and then he shrugged. I smiled back to let him know that I got what he was talking about.
“I’m starving,” I said. “Let’s get lunch.”
We grabbed a couple of overpriced hot dogs and sodas – Paul called it our contribution to erasing the budget deficit – and sat down at the only available table. The tourists were out in throngs today. I covered a gooey pile of ketchup on the table with a napkin.
“How’s it going?” I said. “You look tired.”
“I slept on the couch last night. I’m too wasted to even remember what we argued about. Something to do with money, I think. It might have been sex – no, that was the night before. After a while, all the fights just blend. It’s like a boxing match where the bell never rings.”
“Maybe you should try counseling again.”
“Are you kidding? We talked about it once, but we couldn’t agree on which counselor to go to.” Paul bit into his hot dog and made a face. “Maybe we should have done Chinese after all. I’ll get to sleep in the bed tonight. We’ve been through this dozens of times.” Paul wiped a dab of mustard from his lips. “Although – and I know this is going to sound weird – lately I’ve had this strange feeling that all this is wrong.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean I have this feeling that my life should be different. That maybe I’m meant to do something else with it. That probably sounds ridiculous.”
“That doesn’t sound weird.” I felt some excitement creeping into my voice. Was it possible that some of Paul’s other life was “bleeding through?” “I believe there are different paths in our lives. I mean, who’s to say that there aren’t multiple universes with multiple copies of ourselves?”
I removed the napkin from the ketchup spot and used a plastic knife to etch two circles. “Suppose you had two universes. Let’s say they are parallel universes like on ‘Star Trek.’” I tapped the left circle with my knife. “Let’s say there is a Paul in one universe. He has a wife he fights with. Maybe he’s not the happiest guy in the world, but in the other universe, there is another Paul who made different decisions. Perhaps he isn’t married, or perhaps he’s divorced. Even better, maybe this Paul found a woman who he truly loves. His life is content. Remember, this is the same Paul – he looks the same, had the same childhood, works the same job, but he turned left instead of right at a certain fork in the road. And why stop at two universes? Why couldn’t there be ten or a million? Every one with a Paul or a Ken whose life might be just a little different.”
Paul stared at me with his mouth open slightly. “Where did all of this come from? All I meant was that I thought I should be doing something more constructive with my life. Like going back to school, earning a teaching certificate, and becoming a high school history teacher.”
“You would be a great teacher, Paul,” I said quickly, caught up in this. “In another universe, you could be in a classroom right now, telling students about George Washington and Napoleon Bonaparte.”
Paul put his hot dog down and looked at me as though I’d ruined his appetite. “What is it with you? Parallel universes. Multiple copies of me running around.” Paul’s voice rose w
ith exasperation. “Did your head come in contact with a blunt instrument recently?” He looked around the room as if he were plotting escape routes. “What’s going on?”
I should tell him, I thought. Of anybody on this planet, he has earned a right to know.
“Don’t have a stroke. I haven’t lost my mind. It’s just something that I wonder about sometimes. I guess I like thinking that our lives can be different. It certainly sounds like you want your life to be different. Why not make the move? Why not follow up on this notion of becoming a teacher?”
Paul’s shoulders sagged. “Because I can’t afford to indulge in fantasies. I’m too busy just trying to survive in this world. Angela wants a bigger house. That means more money, and I couldn’t afford to do it on a rookie teacher’s salary. I’m just blowing smoke, Ken. I’m not going to throw away everything I have and start over.”
“Sometimes you have to take big chances to make things the way they should be.”
“That’s a myth, Ken. The reality is that you just have to step as carefully as possible and try to avoid the land mines. Angela and I will probably have sex tonight. We usually do after the really big blowouts. I take what I can get.”
*
I called Kate’s office that afternoon. When she didn’t return the call, I tried her at home that night.
“Let me guess, Ken; you want to know about the time Melissa and I went shopping for our first bras together. Or maybe you want me to tell you some behind-the-scenes stories about the third-grade play.”
“I deserved that, I’m sure. I didn’t call to talk about Melissa.”
“That’s what you say now. But something tells me her name will come up in the next thirty seconds.”
“It won’t. I swear.”
“Then why did you call?”
“I called to say I’m sorry. I don’t know what got into me.”
I could hear Kate expel a long breath on the other end of the line. “Trust me, Ken, I’ve had plenty of weird drinks dates in my life. But it was creepy how many times you brought Melissa up. It was like you really wanted to know her. It reminded me of the guy who killed John Lennon.”
Anything Page 17