Pat Reeves has to laugh at this one, just has to laugh because she is so entertaining, elegant, intelligent. “I don’t see that.”
“Foundations, structures,” she says and uses her hands and eyebrows in a serious yet enticing way. “You see everything has a foundation for the formation. Rock formations, thought formations, word formations. Do you see how it all connects?”
“Not really, but I’ll take your word for it.”
“Really, Pat, I’d think that you could see,” she says and pouts a pretty little perfect pout. “Why sometimes I can even use the same material over and over just in different terms, say it in English, say it in French, use geological terms, philosophical terms, poetic devices.”
“Give me an example,” he says and laughs again, this time an “I’m not believing a word of this but aren’t you just cute as a bug” laugh.
“Okay.” She clears her throat. “Take for example a word like petrify. You know you can trace it back to a French word meaning stone or something but that’s not even important. Think about it, petrified wood, one little piece of wood hardened by years, turned to stone. It’s not really wood and not really rock.”
“Go on,” he says and laughs a “this is nonsense” laugh. “I’m listening.”
“Well, don’t you see? You could put it into some sort of form and the whole time it would sound like it was about a piece of petrified wood when really it would be about a person. Sort of like, ‘You can never soften me but do not pine, you may chisel the features you want and they will be mine.’”
“Oh Jo,” he says and reaches over and slaps her leg the way that good friends always do. “You had me going for awhile there.” He doesn’t want to talk about this so she must laugh right along with him like it is all a joke. “Here we are.” He stops the car in front of a little white house.
“I thought your friends were students,” she says.
“They are!” He gets out and she doesn’t wait for him to open her door. “All students don’t live in dorms you know.”
“I know that, silly,” she says and slams her door. “I just like living in a dorm. There are so many different places you can go inside a dorm. It’s like not seeing the forest for the trees.”
“I’m not even going to ask about that one,” he says and opens the door to the house. He doesn’t even knock.
“Hi Pat! We were wondering where you were!” This girl wearing a skirt that looks like an old beach towel opens the door. “And you must be Jo.”
“That’s me,” she says and follows Pat Reeves into the room. She smiles and nods at everyone and they go to the kitchen where there is a keg of beer.
“Here you go,” Pat says and hands her a cup. It is a big plastic cup all to herself. “Come on and I’ll introduce you. Some people from Blue Springs are supposed to be here.”
“Who? Who?” she asks in that precious way, half hoping that Red will come, half hoping that he will not. Hoping that he will so that he will see how she doesn’t need him—hoping that he will not because he has ruined her life. “Love is a rose but you better not pick it,” Linda Ronstadt sings.
“Do you remember Nancy Carson and her friend Buffy?”
“Do I remember? My brother dated that whore bag for years.”
Pat looks at her real funny and so does the girl in the beach towel skirt, and another girl with long blond hair who is wearing a bright pink skirt with frogs on it that are blinding. Has she said something wrong? If you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all. Who the hell said that little tidbit? Had she said something wrong? Heavens no! “Those two are bad news let me tell you!” Again the funny looks. She doesn’t have to eat those words. Is this a little faux pas? A little false step? Put a false foot forward and never draw it back!
“Jo’s a real kidder. You just got to know her sense of humor!” Pat slaps her on the back harder than good friends usually do and laughs. “Some people don’t know when you’re teasing, Jo.”
“I’m not kidding at all. Would I kid you, Pat?” she asks, bashfully, spinelessly and it brings a laugh from all. She has effects.
“One of your old loves is going to be here, too,” he says when they are seated in the room right beside the stereo. Sing it, Linda!
“Red’s coming?” she asks and cannot help but laugh at the witty pun that just slid out of her mouth.
“Hell, no,” Pat says and he is a little perturbed. “Ray Peters.”
“Why would you ask Ray Peters?” she asks and sits back. Build up for a let down. Perturbation sets in. Why was there an initial shock of excitement when she thought that Red might come? It was electrifying, petrifying.
“He goes to school here.”
“Ray Peters goes to Duke,” she laughs and spills some beer down the front of her sweater. No problem, it soaks right in. “I didn’t know he was smart enough.”
“Well apparently so. He got in.” Pat sits back and puts his arm around the back of the sofa. He is working up his nerve. “Are you okay, Jo?”
“Sure, why do you ask?”
“You just seem different that’s all.” Pat has that glum worried look on his face that he is so famous for. He looks pitiful but at the same time he looks very much in control, sort of like Bobby.
“It’s my hair, I told you. It’s so long and do you know what’s funny about that? It’s just the way that Red wanted it to grow and now that it’s all grown out, he isn’t around!” She slaps Pat on the thigh and keeps her hand there. “Isn’t that a scream?” Pat wants to kiss her, she can tell and before she knows it, it will be after midnight and they will be kissing and kissing like a pair of gouramis and she will be in love. She leans forward but it is more than Pat can stand. He can’t even look into her eyes and see the truth. Instead, he looks around the room, the girl in the beach towel, the girl with the froggy skirt, and then he pushes her away. Isn’t that just like him, though? He wants to be subtle, discreet; Pat Reeves hasn’t changed a bit.
“Maybe we need to talk, Jo,” he says and gets up and pulls her towards the kitchen. They still can’t talk because the girl in the froggy skirt is standing by the keg with a boy that isn’t wearing socks even though it is February. He has the sense enough to keep his loafers polished to a shiny deep burgundy but he doesn’t have sense enough to wear socks in February. The boy can talk; he says, “Hi Pat, where’s Trudy?”
“She went home this weekend,” Pat says and takes Jo Spencer by the arm. Froggy is staring at Jo Spencer while Pat pulls her away. He pulls her way down the long hall and into the bedroom and closes the door.
“This is breaking a rule,” she tells him but she doesn’t mind. After the rule has been broken once, it doesn’t matter. Isn’t that what they say about a virgin? She can do it just once and then she is altered forever; there is no return. “Who’s Trudy? Sounds like a cow.”
“Trudy is the girl that I’m dating,” Pat says and stares at the door.
“No, because I’m the girl that you’re dating,” she says and looks at the door, too. There is nothing on that door to hold her interest.
“Look, Jo, I just wanted to explain things so that you wouldn’t get any wrong ideas.” Pat looks at her squarely, straightly, seriously. “I like you a lot, you know that.”
“Yes, you’ve always liked me,” she says and squeezes his hand. “You’ve always been in love with me. I know. I know these things.”
“Maybe once I did love you, or thought that I loved you. That was a long time ago.” He squeezes her hand and then lets go. “You know we’re friends, just like you used to always tell me. We’re friends.”
“So, why did you ask me out then?” Jo Spencer feels like she has been socked in the stomach. “Why didn’t you ask Trudy if that’s who you date?”
“I told you, Trudy went home for the weekend. You’re the one that called me remember?”
“No, no, I don’t remember it being that way at all,” she says and gets up to walk around. There are not many places that you
can go in this room. There is a beach towel skirt just like the one that that girl is wearing except in different colors, thrown across a chair. She is in that girl’s room, alone with Pat Reeves, and she shouldn’t be here.
“Yes you do. You called me up and since Trudy was out of town, I thought it would be a good chance for us to get together. You sounded like you needed a friend.” He sounds pitiful, weak. How can he be so controlled?
“I’ve got loads of friends! All that I need, anyway.” She turns around and around and stares at the lightbulb. If she had a broom, she’d throw it down and jump over it. She was always very good at doing that, the best in the neighborhood. “Who needs ’em?”
“Jo, I just wanted to explain, that’s all.” Pat Reeves makes her stop turning. He holds her arms so tight that she can’t feel him holding them. “I’m your friend whether you want me to be or not.”
“I know all that! Don’t you think I know all that? Do I look like a fool? An idiot?” She asks and Pat shakes his head. “You’re the one that looks like a fool, beggarman fool, to sit there and tell me all of that like I was after you or something! You’re cocky, that’s what you are—to think that you need to let me down easy, to think that I needed to be told all of that. We’re just friends that’s all.” She shakes his hands off of her arms. “Isn’t that what I always told you when you used to come around?”
“Yeah, yeah,” he says and sits back down on the edge of the beach towel clad girl’s bed. “I just wanted to make sure there was no misunderstanding.”
“Well, there isn’t,” she says and that’s a lie. Why had he even asked her to this tacky party? Why hadn’t he told her about Trudy on the phone? If he was so wild about Trudy the cow, why would he bother to take someone like Jo Spencer out on a date? He wouldn’t have even told her about Trudy except that he got nervous that Froggy would tell on him. That was it. Pat Reeves is a chicken.
“Come on, then,” he says and takes her arm again like she can’t walk by herself. “Let’s join the party and have some fun.” Oh, yeah, she is having a ball! “You’d really like Trudy,” he says loud enough for Froggy to hear. “Maybe we can all double date one night or something.”
“That’s a possibility,” she says. “It will be difficult for me to decide which of my boyfriends we should go with.”
“I’ll bet!” Pat says and laughs. “Here, do you need another beer?”
“I don’t need anything,” she says. “But I’ll take one.” He laughs again and so does the sockless boy but Froggy doesn’t; she stares. Jo Spencer takes her beer and drinks a big swallow fast and even this quick action doesn’t make Froggy stop looking.
“I hate Trudy couldn’t make the party,” Froggy says.
“Yeah, me too,” Jo Spencer says. “Of course, I wouldn’t be here if Trudy was now would I, and I wouldn’t have had the pleasure of meeting you!”
“Jo! I haven’t seen you since graduation.” Ray Peters comes in and hugs her. She had never allowed him to hug her person before, what makes him think that he can take such a liberty just because he goes to Duke and is all prepped out in bright green pants. “This is my girlfriend, Anna. Anna, this is Jo Spencer. We went to high school together. As a matter of fact . . .” Ray Peters pauses to laugh a very worldly laugh. “Jo was my very first girlfriend.”
“Nice to meet you,” amiable Anna fille-ami of Ray Peters says. “I’ve seen your picture in Ray’s old yearbook.”
“It was just last year,” Jo Spencer says and looks to see if Froggy is still staring; Froggy is.
“It was, wasn’t it?” Anna asks. “Ray doesn’t look at all like he did in his senior picture.”
“Oh, I think he looks exactly the same,” Jo Spencer says. “Ray will always be Ray.”
“Maybe it’s because I didn’t know him then,” Anna says. She is so sweet, so petite. “You were the May Queen and chief cheerleader, weren’t you?”
“Jo was everything,” Ray Peters says.
“I still am,” Jo says. “The only change is my hair, see how long it is.”
“I noticed that,” Ray says. “It looks real good that way.”
“Well, the funny thing about it being this long is that this is how Red always wanted it to get and now it’s all long and Red is not around.” She looks at Anna. “Red was my old boyfriend in high school.”
“I was real surprised when I heard that Y’all had broken up,” Ray says. “I thought you were really in love.”
“Shoot! I’ve never been in love!” she says and laughs. “You think I could love him after what happened to Beatrice?” Ray looks funny; maybe he doesn’t know what really happened to Beatrice.
“That was really sad,” he says.
“What? What?” Anna asks like a little dumb ass.
“This friend of ours, well kind of a friend . . .” Ray Peters wants to drag it into a marathon story.
“Slit her wrists and bled to death,” Jo Spencer says and takes a big swallow of beer. That ends that. All’s well that ends well. To think that Ray thought that she was in love with Red! What is love anyway? Linda says, “Love is a rose but you better not pick it.” Who the hell wants to pick it?
“No, she didn’t die.” Ray stares at Jo so Jo stares at his bright green pants. Those pants make her laugh and laugh, make her want to call Ray Peters, Mr. Greenjeans, make her want to call Anna fille-ami, Bunny Rabbit, make her want to call Froggy, Mrs. Moose, no, Ms. Moose; Froggy without a doubt would have it no other way than Ms. Moose. “It was close though. They thought at first that she might die.” Now Ray is telling all of this to Bunny Rabbit. “If her boyfriend hadn’t come in and found her, she might would have died.” Let the ping-pong balls fall!
“It was like she’s dead,” Jo Spencer says and stares at Froggy, Ms. Moose. “People were nice to her when they thought she was dead.”
Bunny Rabbit stares at Jo Spencer, a blank stare and then turns her attention to Ray. “How sad.” She shakes her stupid head like she knows something. “Is she okay, now?”
“Yeah,” Ray says and looks back at Jo. “I hear she’s doing fine, heard she’s going off to school next year, somewhere in Maine. Is that what you heard?”
“You don’t always hear what you believe,” she says and looks at Ray. He doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t know the main reason that she would go to Maine. Maine, pain, rain, sane. Jo Spencer did not believe that so she can’t hear it. “Maine has long sleeve weather,” she says and again, Ray is dumbfounded. Anna Rabbit fille-ami is dumblosted. Froggy, Ms. Moose, is Miss Piggy in disguise.
Froggy is on the phone. She says, “Oh no, we sure will miss you, Hon.” Obviously Froggy is in theatrics and does a poor job at it. “That was Nancy,” Froggy says and keeps looking at Jo Spencer. “She can’t make it. She and Buffy were all ready to come over and her battery is dead.” Ha! Nancy Carson’s battery has never been dead. Sounds like a lie; Buffy is probably hot and heavy to see Red.
“Thank God for that,” Jo Spencer says and smiles a sweet smile. She has effects! She can make a whole room go silent. Ray Peters finally laughs; he thinks that she is cute; he wants to re-create some past moments, points to ponder, wants to forget Beatrice.
“Do you remember when we went together, Jo?” He laughs, worldly indeed! “And we sat at that ballgame and held hands under your poncho?” Anna thinks this is amusing to hear of her Ray at an earlier day.
“I will never forget it,” Jo says. “You picked your nose!”
“What? Come on be serious!” Ray says but it is obvious by the bright red of his face that she is quite serious. Else why would he turn so red? Red and green. Honesty is the best policy. Why should you lie? The truth will set you free. Anna is not amused.
“Think I’ll just have another little beer,” Jo Spencer says and goes to the keg.
“That’s what you need,” Pat says. What’s wrong with him anyway? He is treating her like a child and he doesn’t have that right. Why he’s got a girlfriend named Trudy; that doesn’t
give him any rights, no cause. Froggy is still staring and Ray is trying to change the subject. “Jo always was a big teaser,” he says to Anna. “By the way, Jo, whatever happened to Ralph Craig?”
“How would I know?” she asks and takes a big swallow. “I am not my brother’s keeper. Besides, I never go to the zoo.” Ray and Anna think this is funny because it is about someone else. Froggy laughs and stares and she doesn’t even know Ralph Craig. She has no cause.
“Let’s go sit down,” Pat says so she follows him back into the room and they sit back down by the stereo. “Jo, are you sure everything’s okay? You know I’m a good listener.” Fill your ears and then fill your pockets. Who does he think he is anyway? Froggy is easing up, slowly, staring, her ears and eyes wide open.
“What’s your major, Jo?” Froggy asks.
“I don’t have one,” Jo Spencer says and lights a cigarette. No one else in the room is smoking and she wants to infect them. “I’m just a freshman.”
“You mean you don’t have any idea?” Froggy sits on the floor where she belongs and carefully pulls her skirt under her legs. She ought to hide those legs; they are not thin and shapely like Jo Spencer’s.
“No idea!” Jo yells because the music has gotten louder. “What’s yours?” she asks because it is obvious that Froggy wants to tell.
“I’m in business,” she says. “So is Ray and he’s a freshman. Guess some people know before others.”
“Guess so. Do you go to school here at Duke?”
“Oh no,” Froggy says. “I go to Meredith. That’s how I know Buffy and Nancy. You see, Margaret does, and I’m just visiting her for the weekend.” Margaret is the girl in the beach towel.
“I didn’t think you did,” Jo Spencer says and laughs a great big laugh. “I just knew that you must not go to Duke.”
“Why?” Froggy asks and her eyes glare up like she’s pissed about something. “Why would you think that?”
“It’s just obvious, that’s all,” she says. “Of course, sometimes I’m wrong. I mean I never would have thought that Ray would’ve gotten in.”
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