“I’ve got to see you. Please.” She sent it, then immediately had second thoughts and tried to cancel it. But the message had been sent. She got up from the chair and paced to the window. Then she sat down again and composed another message to Neeraj, saying, “Never mind. Everything’s fine.”
I, of course, was now certain that I knew exactly what had been going on when she sent me away from the office during the day. Neeraj was more than the perfect assistant. And the charm that he had used on me apparently worked just as well on Carol Jeanne. She had a friend, and it wasn’t me.
Two friends, apparently. Because now she composed a message to Liz. “Can we talk? Do you have time today? I hope so, because I’m going to take a walk now and I think I’m going to end up at the children’s park and I hope you’ll come join me. I know you can see the park from your window so if I’m still there, please come.”
She sent the message, then stood up and wiped her eyes on her sleeve. “Do I look like I’ve been crying?” she asked me.
Her eyes were red and puffy and her hair was a mess. I nodded largely.
“Well, that’s just too damn bad,” said Carol Jeanne, and she stalked out of the room. I followed. I wasn’t going to miss this little meeting for the world—if Liz got the message and came.
Carol Jeanne didn’t run into anybody on the way out of the house. Mamie was apparently in her room, and I dodged into the kitchen to see Red typing at the household computer while the girls played on the floor. He, too, was composing a message to somebody. Apparently they both had friends they turned to in their time of need.
On the way to the children’s playground, we passed on the other side of the church. I parted with Carol Jeanne long enough to run to the garbage can where Red had dropped his aborted offering. Unfortunately, the Sunday school had apparently given chocolate treats wrapped in wax paper to the children, so the can was full of sticky smeary paper that I had to plow through to get to the bottom. But I’m a monkey, right? I play with my own feces. What do I care about getting filthy in service of my insatiable curiosity?
His message, crumpled as it was, was easy to read. “I will be faithful to my wife.” Well, well, well. That was fascinating, wasn’t it? I recrumpled the message, dropped it back into the can, and scurried back to Carol Jeanne as fast as my little legs could carry me. I must have looked cute to her as she saw me scampering along the path to where she sat on one of the swings in the playground. All the while, though, I was trying to decide whether Red’s offering meant that he was merely contemplating adultery or had already begun an affair and was trying to stop. I also was wondering whether the fact that he discarded the message meant that he had decided not to give up on adultery, or had merely decided not to mention it in the offering, which was read by a minister who may or may not have been the soul of discretion. Who was it that Red was writing to when I left the house? Such fascinating mysteries these humans provided for me.
Carol Jeanne and Neeraj. Red and…somebody. Perhaps they, too, were going to lead their children into the wonderful world of marital collapse and family instability. It couldn’t happen to a nicer pair of children. The sexual behavior of us lesser primates wasn’t looking so bad. Sure, we male monkeys masturbated our brains out in public—if we weren’t programmed not to. Sure, male chimpanzees kidnapped ripe females if they could and raped them to exhaustion in some secluded little rendezvous. Sure, male baboons made friends with babies in order to weasel their way into acceptance in the troop. But by and large they provided a healthy environment for their offspring. Humans acted more like male lions, who killed the younglings when they defeated an old male and took over his harem. Hang the children, they’re in the way of what I want. If I ever had a mate and children, I vowed right then, I would be more loyal to them than this.
We had only been there a few minutes when Liz came strolling along and took a seat on the next swing. “So what’s up?” she asked.
Carol Jeanne began, not with her problems with Red and Mamie, but with Penelope’s and Dolores’s gossipy visit. Liz didn’t get upset about it.
“Oh, well,” she said. “I hoped when Odie Lee died, this sort of thing would die with her, but her influence lives on.”
“Odie Lee hardly invented vicious gossip,” said Carol Jeanne.
“No, she simply invented the idea of claiming that you were spreading gossip so people could help the poor sufferers, or at least pray for them. She turned backbiting into a holy sacrament. If you do it in the name of Christ, how can anyone complain? Aren’t we lucky to have Peloponnesia and Dolores carrying her cross?”
Liz’s ironic tone was contagious. “Liz, it’s their duty,” said Carol Jeanne, with just the right amount of mock piety in her voice. “They’re prayer partners.” Then she added something that hinted of her real source of pain. “And of course my dear mother-in-law wants to be one of the crew.”
Liz sailed right by that little hint without picking it up. “You ought to know, though, that every word that Penelope and Dolores told you is true, more or less. Cyrus is dating, although his executive assistant has more substance to her than Penelope indicated. I haven’t heard anything about Etta and Franklin, but George Bowman does have a drinking problem; I know that personally because he tried to get Warren to give him his liquor allotment this month.”
It was Carol Jeanne who made the personal connections. “What about what they said about you and Warren?”
Liz grimaced. “Right on target, but it’s hardly a secret. You’ve seen Warren and me together—if not in person, I know Lovelock kept pretty close tabs on us during the funeral and you probably got the playback.”
I bowed in deference to Liz’s perceptiveness. Carol Jeanne shrugged. “I don’t see everything that Lovelock records.”
“Well, let’s just say that if I ever have another child that looks like Warren, it will be by divine intervention. Warren hasn’t touched me since we left Earth, and that’s made me just a little edgy. Did I say edgy? I have so many hormones flowing through my veins that you could make an herbicide out of my blood. And the worst thing is that I can’t figure out why he stopped loving me. I haven’t changed.”
“Maybe the Ark is a tough adjustment for some people,” said Carol Jeanne.
“Yes, well, it hasn’t made him impotent. He still gets erections in his sleep.”
Carol Jeanne blushed a little.
“Oh, don’t you talk about things like that? I thought being married to a therapist you were completely frank about other people’s sexual behavior.”
“We don’t…bring our work home,” said Carol Jeanne.
“Of course not,” said Liz. “I mean, I wouldn’t have gone to Red for therapy if I thought he was going to chat about it around the supper table. Not that it would bother me if you knew my problems—I’m telling you myself, aren’t I?—but somehow I suspected that Mamie wasn’t exactly a reliable confidante.”
“You can trust Red,” said Carol Jeanne. “He never betrays a confidence.”
“I assumed he didn’t. But that means you don’t know anything about his work, doesn’t it?”
“I know as little about his as he does about mine,” said Carol Jeanne.
“The difference is that your work gets written about and talked about, but even the people he helps aren’t likely to broadcast his achievements,” said Liz. “You should know—he’s a wonderful therapist.”
Carol Jeanne chuckled dryly.
“Oh, don’t you think so?”
“No, no, I’m sure you’re right,” she said. “It’s just ironic. You see, Red and I just had a big fight and that was what I really wanted to talk to you about. Only I can’t very well do that because that might undercut him as your therapist.”
It was Liz’s turn to laugh. “Oh, I don’t think that just because somebody is a wonderful therapist it means that he’s necessarily a perfect husband. After all, I can tell you all about how to be a perfect mother, but I’m not one myself. Don’t worry, you can
talk to me and it won’t change my ability to benefit from my sessions with Red.”
“No, it’s all right,” said Carol Jeanne. “Really, you’ve already helped me. I guess I had forgotten that I’m not the only one who has already plunged into my work here on the Ark. Red’s work is just as important as mine, in terms of making the eventual colony a success. I never really doubted that it was, of course. I was just forgetting that he’s under a lot of stress, too.”
“It is ironic, though, isn’t it,” said Liz. “Helping other people cope with their stresses puts him under so much stress that he’s not getting along with his own wife. Who theraps the therapists?”
They both laughed. But I knew what Liz didn’t know—that Carol Jeanne’s laugh was bitter and she was not really amused.
“So,” said Liz. “What was the fight about?”
“Nothing. Everything.” Then Carol Jeanne told all about Penelope calling her to be a fellow with Mamie, and how Carol Jeanne refused, and how that led to a fight with Red.
“Well,” said Liz, “the truth is that while you can exempt yourself from fellowing, it’s really a very good way to get to know people and be part of the community.”
“I know that,” said Carol Jeanne. “What I couldn’t very well say in front of everybody was that I’d be perfectly happy to fellow—well, no, that’s a lie, but I would have been willing to do it. What I could never bear to do is be partnered with Mamie.”
“Mother-in-law problems?”
“If Mamie were a total stranger I would loathe her,” said Carol Jeanne. “There, I’ve said it to somebody at last.”
She had said it to me several times.
“And you have to live with her.”
“Why couldn’t she and Stef have stayed on Earth? It’s one of the things I was looking forward to about the voyage—that at last Red and I could find out who we were out from under his mother’s monolithic shadow. And then, when it was too late for me to back out—no, when I didn’t want to back out because I was already involved and excited about shaping the ecosphere of a new planet—Mamie announced that she and Stef were coming, too. I know Stef didn’t want to. I know Red didn’t want them to come, either, or at least that’s what he said to me. But he never, never, never could say no to his mother.”
“He married you, didn’t he?” asked Liz gently.
“Mamie didn’t say no to that.”
“You think not?” said Liz. “I’m betting that she did. I’m betting that Red had to fight tooth and nail to get her even to come to the wedding.”
“Well, they kept it a secret from me if that’s what happened,” said Carol Jeanne. “As far as I could tell, Mamie spent months making sure that everybody in New England knew her little boy was marrying this famous scientist. It was deeply embarrassing how she kept throwing my credentials at everyone we met. I begged Red to get her to stop, but as far as I could tell he never even broached the subject with her. She still drops my name every chance she gets—even as she does her level best to undermine me with all our friends.”
Liz looked doubtful at this. Now why, I wondered, would she doubt what Carol Jeanne was saying? It was nothing but the simple truth—Mamie was the person most impressed with Carol Jeanne’s fame, and she namedropped with excruciating consistency. The only person who was blind to this was Red himself. And, apparently, Liz. She probably hadn’t had enough chances to see Mamie in action.
“Well,” said Liz, “you can’t change his mother. But you can do something to keep from having your social position in Mayflower completely undermined.”
“Take the fellow thing?” said Carol Jeanne. “I can’t do it, really, Liz. To have to tag along with Mamie—”
“No, no—most people aren’t fellows. There are other community service jobs. Red is so outgoing, so involved with the community, and I bet it would bring you closer if you were involved, too. Why don’t you go to Pennyloaf and ask her for some community service position that you and Red could do together? She’ll have to say yes.”
Carol Jeanne sighed. “I really don’t have time for things like that. Or, no, well, I have time. I’m just not good at concentrating on two different jobs at the same time. Red can do that. I can’t. My work as a gaiologist consumes all my attention.”
“Well, don’t you let that worry you,” said Liz. “Most of us don’t pay the slightest attention to our community service jobs.” She grinned. “If we did, do you think we’d put up with Pennydope being in charge of them?”
“You’re right, Liz, I’m glad I talked to you. I’m glad you checked your mail and came out here.”
“Mail?” said Liz.
“I wrote you a message asking you to come.”
“Really? I just saw you from my window and I thought you looked like you needed to talk! You asked me to come? Well, I’m flattered. I’m glad you feel that way about me.”
Liar liar liar, I thought. She got that message. Why would she lie?
Carol Jeanne and Liz hugged each other and said good-bye while I went behind a tree and peed against the trunk. Something was wrong here. Liz was giving Carol Jeanne good advice, yes, but she was lying and now that I thought about it, she had been on edge through the whole conversation. Something was wrong, and I wanted to find out what. I would begin by making sure that Liz had received that message from Carol Jeanne. Let’s get home, Carol Jeanne, I said silently.
Instead we went to Penelope’s house. No one was there. So we went to Dolores’s house, and sure enough, Penelope was inside. It was Peter who opened the door, however, and he looked so nakedly aghast at seeing Carol Jeanne there that apparently she couldn’t resist teasing him a little. “You must be Peter,” she said. “Lovelock tells me that you’re quite the little computer wizard.”
“Not really,” he said wanly.
On Carol Jeanne’s shoulder, I grinned at him and then wiggled my butt tauntingly. He looked at me and I winked. That relaxed him a little. Apparently he thought of me as a kind of friend, and he trusted my reassurance. Not that I knew Carol Jeanne wouldn’t mention Peter’s computer malfeasance. It’s just that I knew she didn’t care enough about the bee animation to bother bringing it up. She had other problems on her mind now.
At Carol Jeanne’s request, Penelope stepped outside and talked with her on the walk in front of Dolores’s house.
“I’m afraid I gave you the wrong impression earlier,” Carol Jeanne said. “I do want to do community service in Mayflower. I’d just rather take a job that’s a little more…behind the scenes. I’m not good at small talk or making people feel at ease, the way fellows have to do. You’re good at that, and I’m sure Mamie is, too, but I’m not.”
Penelope preened. I was a bit surprised. Apparently Carol Jeanne knew how to suck up to people just fine. It wasn’t that she lacked the skill, it was that she hadn’t ever found anybody she thought it was worth sucking up to. And even now, she was only doing it to try to get closer to Red.
“Well, we do have other openings. We need a babysitter during church services, and we need an operator to post Workday assignments. But those are hardly the sort of thing a person of your stature should be doing.”
“Not at all.”
Not at all? I tried to picture Carol Jeanne tending little children during church services. What had Liz’s comments done to my master?
“I want to do my part in the community,” said Carol Jeanne. “If a job needs doing…”
“I’m thinking,” said Penelope.
“Of course,” said Carol Jeanne, apparently just remembering the rest of Liz’s advice, “it would be nice if it were something Red and I could do together.”
“That’s it, then,” said Penelope. “Social director.”
“What?”
“We always call a couple as social directors. It’s not really that time-consuming. And it’s behind the scenes—you just make assignments for people to bring refreshments and do cleanup after our monthly get-togethers. Maybe come up with some games. I was
wishing I could call Red to do that, but until you spoke to me today I never dreamed you’d be willing, and I couldn’t very well call somebody else’s wife to serve with him!” Penelope laughed hugely at her own jest. Or was it a jest? I remembered Red’s offering note, and wondered if Penelope was already aware of rumors that she hadn’t bothered to share in Red’s own house.
“Of course I’ll have to talk to Red,” said Carol Jeanne. “But I’m sure he’ll say yes.”
I wanted to laugh out loud. Carol Jeanne as social director? You might as well ask a Muslim to run a pig farm. In no time at all, she would be dumping all the duties on Red, who would do them splendidly but resent her all the more for not helping him. Carol Jeanne, why don’t you ever ask my advice before you do something as self-defeating as this?
Carol Jeanne made her good-byes to Penelope and our esteemed mayor swung her bosom around and toted it back into Dolores’s house. As I rode Carol Jeanne’s shoulder down the walk, I tried to imagine her stomping away at a square dance with Red. Even Pink would make a better partner as social director. My guess was that what this was really about was Carol Jeanne’s guilt at her feelings toward Neeraj. She had to make things right between her and Red precisely because she was falling in love with somebody else. There was no accounting for what humans would do just because they felt guilty. I was glad that capuchins were spared such vain and unproductive emotions.
Thanks to the things I learned while tracking Peter’s little bee animation, it was no trouble at all to discover that Liz had indeed opened the message from Carol Jeanne within moments after she received it. That had to mean she was already on the computer at the time and so heard the tone that signaled the arrival of mail. What was she doing? Why, she was reading another message which she had opened only moments before. A message from Red.
I scanned her whole correspondence record for the day and discovered that Red had already sent Liz one message early in the morning before church, and then two messages right after his quarrel with Carol Jeanne. Liz had answered all of them almost as soon as they were sent. But then came Carol Jeanne’s message.
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