by Chaitali Sen
“Because it would be interesting. It would be interesting to see his reaction.”
“Does John talk about me?”
“No. Not at all.”
“Then why do you think he would care?”
Vic smiled and his face lightened. He could certainly be charming if he tried.
“You’re putting me on, right? Do you want to do this or not? We have to really do it. I’m not a liar.”
Mariam couldn’t make any sense of what he was saying. She listened and watched his body struggling to move in the world. He had so little control of it, yet she did not find him at all threatening, only strange and awkward and pitiful.
“Let’s go then,” Mariam said.
He didn’t know what to do with her assent. He stared at her and looked down at his large hands, perhaps contemplating the meeting of these separate entities. Then he grabbed her by the arm and pulled her out of the pub. He didn’t let go of her until they’d reached the gate of a small park at the end of the street. It was empty, but dark and isolated. She didn’t feel safe there.
“I thought we were going back to campus.”
“I love this park.”
“But it’s nighttime. I can’t even see it.”
“Of course it’s nighttime,” he said, laughing. “Are you ready?”
Mariam sighed. At least she was here with Vic, who might appear protectively hulking to potential assailants roaming through the park. “All right,” she said, and she sat down on the grass.
He was on top of her in a second. He reached into her skirt and pulled her underwear off and before she knew it he had her legs wrapped around him. The weight of him and all the mystery going on between her legs excited her. She could feel his hands there fumbling with his zipper and then the sudden softness of his flesh. She bit her lip and braced herself for the inevitable pain. He kept grunting, but she didn’t feel much force. His rubbery penis kept springing away, unable to penetrate. After several minutes he stopped and looked at her. “Are you a virgin?”
“Of course,” she said.
“Of course? I haven’t been with a virgin in two years.”
“Well how hard can it be if you’ve done it before?”
“It’s hard. It’s more effort than I want to put forth right now. You used me,” he said. “You tried to trick me.”
“I tricked you? This was your idea.”
He stood up and zipped his pants.
“Get up. Get up, would you?”
“I’ll get up when I want to,” she said.
“Don’t get up then. If you want to be raped stay here. I’m going home.”
He waited a while, every now and then taking a few steps toward the gate, announcing, “I’m leaving,” and then coming back. She refused to get up, just to spite him. Eventually he was too far away to win. He would either have to come back and force her to her feet, or go home. He chose to go home.
She didn’t run after him, but she was too afraid to stay in the park on her own. After his footsteps faded she walked briskly back to campus and didn’t see him again.
A few days later Mariam fell asleep at her study carrel in the library and woke up to find a note scrawled on a scrap of paper and placed at her fingertips. It was only three words, written in John’s assured handwriting. I miss you, it said. Mariam closed her eyes and held the paper to her lips.
When Mariam got back to her room, she found Nina crying bitterly. For John’s birthday she was going to rent a car and take him to a vacation cabin for a weekend. “Was it too much?” she asked. “When I told him about the car he said he wanted to be alone for his birthday.”
“That’s not so bad.”
“He doesn’t think we should see each other anymore.”
Nina wrapped her arms around Mariam’s waist and cried. Mariam didn’t know what to do with her hands. She patted Nina’s head a few times. “Why don’t we have a drink?” Mariam asked. When Nina lifted her head she was able to extricate herself. “We can celebrate John’s birthday without him.”
Nina smiled, a watery, childish smile. “All right.”
“What can we drink?”
Nina went into her closet and pulled out a small box filled with bottles, some of them empty. “I feel like some brandy.”
The brandy went down more easily than John’s vodka. It didn’t take long for the heat of it to rise into Mariam’s cheeks, and Nina’s cheeks were also beautifully pink. She began to entertain Mariam with tales of her romantic misadventures. She had experienced so much at such a young age. Mariam listened, but her thoughts wandered to John, to what he had been thinking and feeling over the last few weeks. All she wanted was to know his state of mind.
“You’ll find someone else,” Mariam said.
“I know,” said Nina.
Mariam felt encouraged by Nina’s confidence. She always seemed to have the expectation that something exciting was about to happen. In a way, it was contagious. Just now, Mariam felt it too, that something in her life was certain to change.
On the morning of John’s birthday Mariam skipped her first class. After Nina left, the telephone in the hallway began to ring. Someone answered it. Then there was a quiet knock on her door. The girl told her through the door that a boy was on the phone for her. Mariam put on her slippers and shuffled into the hall. She picked up the phone and said hello. It was John. He asked her if she was having a good morning. She said yes, she was finally having a good morning.
“It’s my birthday, Mariam.”
“I know. I have something for you.”
“Will you bring it to me?”
She got ready and wrapped her gift with butcher paper and a ribbon, and she ran down the hill to his dormitory, carrying the box in her coat pocket. It was a blustery day, cold and gray, and when she arrived he pulled her into the room, covered her ears with his hands and kissed her before she could give him the box. Nothing in her life could ever come close to this, the warmth of his lips on hers. He didn’t want to let her go. He kissed her over and over and over again.
His room had a fireplace and there was a fire crackling in it, and outside the branches of a tree shuddered in the wind and tapped his window hauntingly. She made him sit in front of the fire and open his present. As he held the box he looked sleepy and sweetly unkempt, his thick black hair sticking up in every direction. She had always wanted to touch his hair. It was so straight yet wild. She wanted to fill her fist with it and pull.
He opened the gift carefully, untying the ribbon, peeling the tape away, unwrapping the paper and lifting the cover, staring into it before taking out the mariner’s compass she had found in the pawnshop. He examined it, holding it up to the firelight and lifting his flat hand up and down like a balance scale to feel the weight of the treasure in his palm. He turned it over and read the words engraved in the brass.
The sea that calls all things unto her calls me, and I must embark. He read it aloud, his deep voice seeping into her skin. She moved closer to him.
He turned back to its open face and watched the needle waver and settle.
“You picked this out for me?”
“I’ve been waiting to give it to you.”
He kissed her again. “Are you cold? Don’t you want to get under the covers for a little while?”
“How can I say no to you on your birthday?”
“You can’t.”
She stood, letting her coat drop to the floor as she stepped out of her shoes. He watched her unbutton her dress. She pulled the dress over her head, awkwardly, but left her slip on.
“You don’t know what you do to me, Mariam.”
“But I haven’t seen you in weeks,” she said.
“I’ve seen you,” he said. “I always fell apart.”
“Did you come to me in the infirmary?”
He touched the lace hem
of her slip.
“You came to me, didn’t you? Then I waited. I waited for something to change and nothing changed.”
“I was afraid,” he said. “Weren’t you afraid?”
“Yes,” she confessed. He pressed his forehead against her knee and she ran her fingers, at last, through his hair.
“Stay here with me. Let’s never leave this room.”
She pulled away and got into his bed. Though her heart was racing she lay very still, resisting any urge to cover herself, while he came to the side of the bed and looked down at her body. If she was still long enough she thought she might fade into the dust, into the light. “I was a ghost until you found me,” she said.
Then she turned away. She stared at the wall and felt his weight unsettle the mattress. She could feel his warm breath on her shoulders, his bare arms over hers, his rough leg parting her legs. He got as close to her as he could. “I only want to hold you, Mariam.”
She settled into his arms and closed her eyes.
She could not remember what woke her up, whether it was a dream or the wind or his lips on her neck. Because the daylight was still a solid gray, she wondered if she had only dozed off for a few minutes. John was awake, with his hand on her stomach. She could feel his erection. His hands crept up to the neckline of her slip and slid down to her breast, where his fingers grazed her nipple. She turned her head and kissed him. If only she could explain her conflict. She wanted him, but the brute force it would take to break into her body was terrifying.
Something caused him to lift his head and look into her eyes. His eyes were full of fear and wonder. She wished he could see what he saw at that moment, to think what he thought and know what he knew.
“I’ll be right back,” he said.
“Where are you going?”
“I’ll be right back,” he repeated before scurrying out of the room.
She stretched and looked at his bedside clock. It was eleven o’clock, still morning. It felt like she’d been sleeping for hours. Without the heat of his body the room was frigid; the fire had gone out. She sat up, waiting for John to come back so they could go eat something. She was starving.
For the first time she noticed the telephone on his bedside table. She was wondering if all the boys had their own telephones when he swung the door open and slammed it shut, startling her. “It’s Thursday,” he said.
She thought about it. “Yes, it’s Thursday,” she said.
He threw her dress at her and looked for his own clothes.
“What’s wrong?”
“I missed my biology exam. I forgot about it.”
“You forgot?”
He turned away from her and zipped his pants. “It’s because I haven’t slept in days. I’ve been thinking about you,” he said.
She got out from under the covers, shivering, and put her dress over her head. She tried to fasten the buttons, but her fingers were cold. Before she knew what was happening there were tears falling into her lap. Everything she attempted seemed to end in disappointment. She felt like the world was written in code and she couldn’t decipher it. “I wanted you to have a nice birthday,” she said. Her voice was scratchy and childlike.
“I was having a nice birthday,” he said softly. “Too nice.” She was being pitiful, and now he felt the need to be delicate with her.
“I’ll call you later,” he said. “We’ll have dinner. I have to figure out what to do about this exam.”
“All right,” she said, wiping her eyes and reaching for her shoes. She couldn’t help acting this way. Being invited and sent away, both without warning, was a shock to her body and her nerves were firing in all different directions.
She stood up and wished him luck. Once she was out the door, she hurried out of the building and ran back to her room, where she fell into her bed and wept. She had an afternoon class but she didn’t go. Even after she had cried enough, she stayed in bed, her mind drifting from one thought to another.
The phone in the hallway rang all afternoon. She got up each time to answer, taking messages for the other girls in her wing and delivering them to their doors. After a while, she realized that her self-pity was an excuse to stay in her room and wait for John to call. Her stomach was growling with hunger and she decided, not without a lot of anguish, to go down to the dining room and eat without him.
She was gone from the room for less than an hour. The phone was ringing again as she returned to her room. More of the girls were back now, opening their doors to get to the phone, but Mariam beat them to it. She picked up the receiver and said hello, triumphantly.
It was John. “Did you eat?” he asked.
“I’m sorry. I was hungry,” she said.
“It’s all right. I ate too.”
“Oh, good,” she said, relieved to know they’d both had the same thought.
He asked her to come for a walk, and in ten minutes, she met him at the Obelisk. They walked from there toward the suspension bridge. He walked quickly, with a purpose. There was a particular spot he wanted to take her to, a rock shelter just off the suspension bridge. They didn’t cross the bridge. He veered off before they reached it, onto a hiking path that was smoother than the crumbling rocks on the other side of the gorge. It led to a ridge that ran parallel to the gorge. They walked along it until they had a view of the first waterfall. This was the water they could hear from the bridge, but she had not come far enough to see it before. From there he took her hand and led her down a steep path for a short distance, and before long they were on a wide ledge where the rock had receded into a shallow cave. He took his jacket off and spread it out onto the floor of the cave. “The seating’s not very comfortable,” he said, and she said it didn’t matter. They sat close together on top of his jacket, gazing at the curtain of water ahead of them.
He told her that he’d gone to his biology professor’s office and more or less told the truth, that it was his birthday and he’d overslept. He said he would accept a lower grade but could he please take the exam, swearing he was prepared for it. The professor gave him hell. He made him sit down and answer questions orally. He grilled him for an hour on things that weren’t on the exam, berating him along the way, and then gave him the written exam.
“Do you think you did all right?” Mariam asked.
“I think so. Who knows?”
“You’re not missing another exam right now, are you?”
He smiled. “I’m sure I’m not. Are you?”
“I might be. I haven’t gone to classes in weeks.”
He laughed. Of course she was only partially joking. Physically she had been present in her classes, but her purpose for being there had eluded her. She was afraid her grades would not be good enough for her to continue at Mount Belet. As far as this new development with John, she wasn’t sure if it would help her focus again or throw her more off balance.
He kissed her cheek timidly. She kissed his lips. She didn’t want him to wonder what she wanted. She realized their stalled romance had not been his fault alone. She had not been open about her feelings for him.
“Have you been unhappy here?” he whispered. She said yes, she had been very unhappy.
“I’m so sorry,” he said.
When it was getting dark, he walked her back along the ledge and helped her back up the rocky path. They strolled back to her dormitory, as they did the first time they met. He said now that he’d had the birthday he wanted, he could go back to his room and concentrate on studying. “I have to try not to lose my head,” he said.
“Me too,” said Mariam.
They took their time saying goodnight and parted slowly.
When she got back to her room, Nina was standing by her bed, her arms crossed. “Where have you been? Your mother’s been calling.” She picked up a notepad from Mariam’s bedside table and read from it out loud. “Your mother called. Mot
her again. Mother, urgent.”
“I wasn’t gone that long,” Mariam said.
“I think something’s wrong. You have to call home, now.”
Just then the phone rang in the hallway. “I’m sure that’s for you,” Nina said.
Mariam went out and answered it. It was her mother, just as Nina said it would be. She didn’t sound at all like herself. “For God’s sake, where have you been? We almost called the police.”
“I’m sorry. I was studying. I was only gone an hour or two.”
“Your father’s had a stroke.”
“Is he all right?” Mariam asked. She had not really absorbed what her mother said. She had to repeat the words back to herself, like she did in French, in order to understand. She didn’t see how it could be true. He wasn’t even fifty. Her mother had told her now and again that he had a weak heart, but she had always understood that more figuratively than literally.
“Your uncle is on his way to pick you up. He’ll be driving all night. Don’t make him wait.”
“I have to come home?”
“Of course you have to come home. Your father’s had a stroke.”
Mariam hung up the phone and went back to the room. She pulled her suitcase out from under her bed and took an armful of dresses out of her closet.
“What happened?” Nina asked.
“My father’s had a stroke,” she said, mimicking her mother.
Nina began to help her, taking the dresses off the hangers and folding them carefully.
“Don’t pack everything. I’ll send you whatever you can’t fit,” Nina said.
“I’m sure I’m coming back,” Mariam said.
“I know. Of course,” Nina said, backing away. Mariam looked at her. She seemed nervous and unsure of herself. Mariam wondered if she had guessed what was going on between her and John. She didn’t come forward again, and Mariam continued packing on her own.
She didn’t know what time her uncle would be arriving. He had been in the army and never lost his military punctuality. Her parents used to joke that he had two speeds, fast and stop. Mariam could never work out his exact connection to her father’s family. He was not a blood relative, but he and her father had been very close when they were young. He lived two hours outside of English Canal and about four hours from Mount Belet. He could arrive before midnight.