“She’s in love with you?” I asked, handing him back the picture. Frank gave me a wounded look, turned abruptly, and ran down the steps. I wanted to call him back, to apologize for the cruel, senseless remark, to apologize for the whole evening, but I let him go without saying a word. Frank, that was 40 years ago and I can still see the expression on your face. I am sorry.
At two o’clock the following afternoon, an hour before he’d be expecting me, I took David’s typing to the Health Sciences Building, having decided to put it in his cubbyhole and leave without going to his office. I dreaded running into him, certain that in one glance David could read my guilt and would hate me forever. When the elevator reached the fourth floor and the doors opened, I peeked out to the left and right with my finger on the “close door” button, ready to flee if I caught sight of him, but the corridor was empty and I dashed to the Biochemistry office; I entered and saw David standing at Iris’ desk looking through his mail. He glanced up, our eyes met, and he returned my timid nod with a glacial stare. “I want to see you for a minute. In my office.”
Grim-faced, David stalked silently down the hall ahead of me, his hands in the pockets of his lab coat. He opened the door without looking at me and I walked in. I heard him close the door and lock it, but I didn’t turn around.
“Here’s your typing,” I said, laying it on his desk.
“Where were you last night?”
“At what time? I was various places.”
“Don’t play games with me, Kate. I know you were with Frank.”
I whirled around to face him. “Since you’re so sure where I was, what are you asking me for?”
“I was calling you all afternoon, and when I you didn’t answer, I finally phoned Norma; she told me you’d gone to Frank’s.”
I felt as though I was suffocating; some invisible force was encircling me, crushing out my breath.
“He … he invited me to have dinner with him.” My reply was barely above a whisper.
“In the dark?” David asked, sarcastically. “I must have driven by Frank’s place ten times. His car was parked in front, but the lights in his apartment were off.”
David seized me by the arm. “What the hell were you doing in there?” he roared. “Let me guess. Frank wanted a dress rehearsal of his wedding night, didn’t he?”
“David,” I pleaded, “lower your voice or they’ll hear you in the hall.”
“I don’t give a damn who hears me,” he bellowed. ”Do you have any idea how I feel? I love you and you’re walking all over me with hobnail boots. What do you want out of me, anyway, just sex? Don’t I give you enough that you have to go running after Frank like a bitch in heat? Don’t flatter yourself that he cares about you; all he wants is to get you in bed.”
“You’re a fine one to accuse me of only being interested in sex. Yesterday you were full of enthusiasm to spend the evening with me until I told you I was having my period.” I paused to give my words more effect. “Frank didn’t seem to care.”
David took his right hand from my arm and struck me hard across the face; the blow sent me reeling back against his desk and for a moment we were both too startled to speak.
“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”
“You certainly have a short memory,” I said between sobs. “When I called you yesterday to surprise you with something, you wanted to go to Sturmvogel badly enough until you found out there wouldn’t be any sex in it for you and then you practically hung up on me.”
An anguished expression crossed David’s face. “Oh my God, is that what you thought?”
I had a premonition that somehow I’d made a terrible mistake. “David,” I sobbed, “it’s not what you think. We didn’t do anything. Frank wanted to, but I didn’t. Please believe me.”
David passed his hand over his face. “What a mess we’ve made of things. Listen Kate, when you and I were talking on the phone Arlene walked in; she didn’t even knock, she just walked in. She’s never done that before; she never comes to my office, but she did yesterday, and I was on the phone with you. I don’t know how much she heard. I wasn’t even aware of what I was saying; all I wanted was to end our conversation as quickly as I could. I never stopped to think how it must have sounded to you. I wanted to take you to Sturmvogel…I called you back immediately, the moment Arlene left, but you didn’t answer … I kept calling you…”
I was convulsed with sobs and overcome with guilt. What had David said once about taking an action that determined the course of one’s life irrevocably? I only hoped it wasn’t too late.
“David,” I cried, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I swear we didn’t do anything.”
I took the hand he held out to me. “It really doesn’t matter,” he said in a low voice. “Kate, please forgive me. What I did was …” David sat down, drew me to him, and I buried my head in his shoulder, crying like a child.
The telephone rang and David answered with annoyance.
“No, not right now; I’m busy at the moment. Can it wait?”
“Yes, fine, give me a call tomorrow.”
I stopped crying. David brushed his hand gently against the bruise on my cheek where he had slapped me.
“I’m so sorry, Kate, truly sorry,” he murmured. “May I be struck dead if I ever do such a thing again.” I squeezed his hand. “What were you going to tell me yesterday, the good news?”
“My surprise is a little anti-climactic now, but I was elected to Phi Beta Kappa.”
David’s eyes met mine; he smiled slightly and shook his head. “What can I say?”
“You might try congratulating me.”
“I do congratulate you, from the bottom of my heart. I’m enormously proud of you, though I have no right to be. I guess we’re fraternity brothers now.”
“Siblings.” We looked at each other again and smiled.
There was a knock on the door. “¡Carajo! ¡Mierda!” David exclaimed, getting up from the chair. He unlocked the door and opened it just wide enough to see the person on the other side.
“I know these are my office hours, but I don’t have time right now. I was about to leave.”
He closed the door and put his lab coat on a hook. “Let’s get out of here or we won’t have a moment’s peace.”
I took a small pocket mirror from my purse. “How do I look?”
“Well…”
“Like I’ve been in a brawl?”
“Sort of. If we run down the back stairs no one will see us.”
Once outside the building we turned our backs on the campus and walked south along the grassy path overlooking Portage Bay. We walked until we were alone, away from the picnickers, the strollers, the boys playing Frisbee. David picked a sunny spot and spread out his jacket.
“Let’s sit down for a while and have a talk. You’ve been so strange lately. It’s not enough, is it?”
“What?”
“The way we see each other, sneaking into my office at night, the few hours we spend on Sturmvogel.”
“Well, that’s part of it. We’re always saying goodbye, always getting pulled apart, when the only thing I want is to fall asleep in your arms the way I did in the motel, and not have to get up in fifteen minutes to put my clothes on.”
“But there’s something else, too,” I continued. “Does it seem to you as though the sexual part of our relationship is just … taking over? Last fall we used to do more things with other people, we used to talk more. Sex is practically an obsession now. I’m not blaming you; I feel driven every bit as much as you, maybe more. A few months ago, I wouldn’t have believed anything could dominate my life so much; sex is like a narcotic addiction. Even now part of me is aching for you, and I long to say ‘please let’s go to the boat, David’, but another part of me feels guilty and ashamed of my weakness.”
David eased a blade of grass from its stalk and put it between his teeth.
“Yes, I feel the same way, though perhaps it hasn’t surprised me the way it h
as you. You’re right; sex has become a compulsion. It’s like the intense relationships couples had during the war. We’re not marching off to battle, but I suppose the future is equally uncertain for us.” He paused. “At times I wonder if I’m trying to prove something to you…”
“That you’re still young enough…”
“Something like that. I’m far more conscious of the difference in our ages than you are. I used to think it bothered you too, but then I realized you really don’t care. I’m not a young man, Kate, and sometimes that fact comes home to me rather brutally. I had a strange experience a few weeks ago at a faculty cocktail party; I knew most of the guests, at least by sight, if not by name, but one man I didn’t know caught my eye. He was standing across the room from me, holding a glass in his hand and looking bored. He was a good ten years older than I, a little haggard … I turned slightly to get a better look at him and as I did … God, what a shock… it was my own reflection! I was seeing myself in a mirror and I didn’t even recognize my own face! It was horrible. For one fleeting moment I saw myself as others see me, and I’ve never felt so old in my entire life. I’ve wondered since then what a man my age … in my position … can offer you.
“I suppose sex is one way of binding you to me in lieu of something more tangible. So many times you’ve come to the office in the evening and I’ve thought we should talk or invite some of the others in for coffee as we used to, and then I look at you …well, you know how long those resolutions last. You’re right though”, he said with a smile, “it’s entirely your fault. If you weren’t so responsive we wouldn’t have this problem.”
“Likewise.”
“So,” he continued, “maybe we should make some changes, not see less of each other, but differently, before we burn ourselves out.”
“David, about Frank…”
“Let’s not talk about Frank. When I got to the office this morning, I found a note in my box saying he’d gone to Spokane through spring break. He had the vacation coming to him and I think it’s best for everyone.” David hesitated. “I realize I’m partly to blame for what happened; I could have been more discreet. I know sometimes he watched us and it must have seemed like I was dangling a piece of meat in front of a starving dog.”
I was relieved Frank hadn’t contradicted my story.
David lay back on the grass with his hands behind his head, staring at the sky. “You were telling me about the frustration you feel at always having to say goodbye. I have a few frustrations of my own. I loathe the subterfuge, all the sneaking around. I hate asking you to endure a clandestine relationship and it bothers me terribly that I can’t marry you. That’s a part of what I mentioned before, about wanting to bind you to me. I’m afraid of losing you; I admit it. Frankly, I’ve reached the point where I want to do a Paul Gauguin, to shout ‘to hell with you world, I’ve done enough, I’ve paid my dues and from now on I’m living my life exactly as I please.’ The other thing which frustrates me is that we can’t … that we shouldn’t have children. You have no idea how this thought depresses me.”
He was right; I had no idea. We’d never discussed pregnancy before, except how to avoid it, and his admission touched me profoundly.
He turned to look at me. “Do you worry about becoming pregnant?”
“Constantly. I go through hell every month. My periods are so irregular …”
“I know. I cross off the days myself on a little desk calendar. It’s odd …sometimes… when your period is late I’m almost relieved, as though I’ve faced the worst thing that can happen to us and it’s bearable after all. I’ve even reached the point where I’m looking forward to your being pregnant; I imagine putting my hand on your abdomen and feeling our child move inside you. Then your period begins and I’m let down, disappointed. It’s like a lost opportunity; I’m a month older. What do you think if we stop worrying, love each other without any barriers and accept the consequences?”
I shook my head. “I’m not ready for that. It’s impossible. It wouldn’t be fair to either the child or me. How would I make a living? When would you see us? A couple evenings a week? Saturdays?”
David sat up. “You’re right, of course. It’s a preposterous idea, economically, socially, morally. You have my permission to smack me on the head with a brick if I ever suggest anything like that again.”
We sat silently on the grass for a while watching the crew practice on Portage Bay; we were close enough to hear the coxswain calling the strokes through his megaphone.
“David, you said before how you are … how you might be using sex. I’m doing the same thing myself, but in a different way. I look at you with your degrees, your academic position, and I feel so … inferior. I’m using sex to hold on to you because sex is the only thing we have in common. I can’t talk about biochemistry with you; I don’t understand a word of what I’m typing for you. I’ve never even heard of half the authors you read regularly.”
“Do you think I’d love you more if we could discuss the biochemistry of kidney function?”
“It’s not just science, it’s everything. Do you remember, last September, the first time we went sailing, when we started singing? You asked Frank to sing something from a German opera. Then he agreed and he sang another song – but in Italian - and you burst out laughing. Well, I laughed too, because I didn’t want to look like a fool in front of you, but I had absolutely no idea what was so funny. I still don’t.”
“He sang the aria 'Di rigori armato.' Yes, it’s in Italian, but the aria’s embedded in a German opera, Der Rosenkavalier. Look, when I was your age I wouldn’t have known that, either.” David stared at me with a frown. “For Christ’s sake, Kate, you’re only nineteen. Your college record is virtually perfect and you’ve just been elected to Phi Beta Kappa. Isn’t that good enough?”
“But that’s just it, that’s all I’ll ever accomplish. I’m not like you. I don’t have any goals or any commitment to anything. I don’t have any real ability. I’m nothing but a fraud, and I’ve been quaking in my boots for six months, scared to death you’d find out. Don’t you see – I’m only sleeping with you to avoid having to talk to you. After I’ve graduated summa cum laude or whatever, and I can’t even get a job because I can only type 40 words a minute, you’re going to be totally contemptuous of me. You mentioned my grades – the only reason I get good grades is because I’m so afraid of failing that I study ten times harder than any normal person – it’s like Frank told me last night, I’m just a good memorizer. He says I’m fooling you.”
“Frank! Since when is Frank an expert on achievement? He has his own agenda. Kate, Kate, how can I make you see yourself as I do? You have the ability to do anything you want, anything. The only thing that can stop you is lack of faith in yourself.”
“I want so much for you to be proud of me.”
He sighed. “Dearest, I can’t be the magnetic north of your life; I’d be doing you a terrible disservice if I encouraged you to excel in order to please me. I can’t chart the future for you. The only thing I can do is stand by and give you a helping hand. You realize what you’re doing? You’ve taken 19 years of dependency on your parents and transferred them to me. You’re dependent on me for love and you’re dependent on me for approval. You can’t put all your emotional eggs in one basket like that; I won’t be around forever.”
“I know I’m too dependent on you. I didn’t mind it so much before, when I thought maybe you needed me as much as I need you, but going to the AAAS meeting was an epiphany. When I attended the opening session and saw you with your colleagues, I realized you have so much more in your life than your relationship with me. You don’t need me at all, except maybe for sex, and even then you could do better. I’ve known that, intellectually, from the beginning, but when I realized it, when it finally got through to me …”
“Is that the problem? Is that what’s behind all this unhappiness? You think you’re unimportant to me, nothing more than a sex toy?”
“Well, lo
ok at us,” I said, starting to cry. “You’re a Ph.D., highly respected, poised, a renowned scientist, you can talk on any subject with anyone. You have many friends. You’re the most handsome man I’ve ever met. What woman wouldn’t fall in love with you? What can you possibly see in me?”
David didn’t reach out for me, didn’t put his arms around me. He sat with his head bent over, his face cradled in his hands, as if searching in the dark for an answer.
“Kate, not everyone thinks a university professor is the highest life form the way you do, and I can’t imagine anyone but you considering me handsome. Many years ago, when I was your age and a student at Berkeley, I did have friends, and I think I use the term correctly, as I did when I said Mateo was my friend. They were young men who shared my triumphs and shared my sorrows as I did theirs. Most of us were Jews, passionately dedicated to saving the world, socialists, communists, knee-jerk liberals, whatever you want to call it; we had a vision of another kind of society, and we wrote pamphlets, we spoke in union halls. We worked hard to make that vision a reality. Berkeley was an exciting place to live in the 30’s; it was a center of intellectual ferment, and when I look back to those days, I can honestly say they were among the happiest in my life.
“Well, the years went by, I married, the war came along, our group scattered. Perhaps it’s a natural consequence of maturity rather than the result of a disastrous marriage or the death of so many of my friends in the war, but whatever the reason, I turned inward, away from people.
“I know I’ve become disillusioned; the solutions which were so obvious to us in the 30’s now seem simplistic in the extreme. I don’t have the answers anymore. History rolls on like a juggernaut, and I’m as powerless to understand its meaning as I am to alter its course. You said I have my work; well, thank God for that. How could I have survived all these years without teaching and research to sustain me?
Letters To My Mother Page 22