Tags:
United States,
General,
Social Science,
Personal Memoirs,
Biography & Autobiography,
Entertainment & Performing Arts,
Biography,
Rich & Famous,
Motion Picture Actors and Actresses,
Popular Culture,
Television Actors and Actresses
laughed and spoke of his plans and mine. He fiddled with the candle, chipping at the wax until it fell in red flakes on the map-of-Italy place mat. He wanted to go to Sri Lanka and Nepal. And he planned to meet up with Professor Barnhill, who was on a sabbatical year in India. His mother might visit, he said, and Sally would come for part of the trip. Along with his studies, he’d climb mountains, hit the beaches, and go to theater festivals.
“What about the temples? Will you see the temples?”
His eyes narrowed, as if to say, It’s India —there are temples everywhere.
I began to describe the erotic carvings at Konark and Khajuraho I’d seen in books. I was fascinated that sexuality could be emblazoned on a place of worship. I thought of those stone women, robust and fecund. They were nothing like the slender, salmon-robed Madonna of my childhood who stood watch outside the Sacred Heart chapel. Her motto was patience, not pleasure, and the stars above her head were a coat of arms.
“Yeah, I’m sure I’ll go there.” He’d moved up the candle, his thumb pressing the soft part near the flame. He began to talk of tiger parks—he wanted to see the tigers. From his pocket, he pulled out two white pills and downed them with wine. “With these babies, I’ll be able to drink well water!” He handed me one. Acidophilus, he said. When taken in advance, they would forestall any intestinal misery.
He was intrigued by Juilliard. “What do you do there all day?” He’d pulled his chair closer, his knees knocking mine under the table. He was especially curious about acting class. “How is it different from Brown?” he asked. I told him about finding neutral and metal chairs and sense memory.
“Let me get this straight—a roomful of people and everyone’s moaning?”
“Well, not everyone.” I tugged at the garnets around my throat and knotted them through my fingers. “Some are crying. Some are laughing. Some are just sitting there and nothing’s going on.”
“Hmm, emperor’s new clothes. And you, Christina, what do you think about?”
“I can’t tell you that.”
“Come on.”
“It wouldn’t be a secret then, would it?”
“So?”
“It only works when it’s a secret.”
He started to speak, then thought better of it.
“What?”
“I don’t know. You just seem … happy.”
“I am happy. Tonight, I’m out of my cloister.”
“You’re hardly a nun.” He frowned slightly and leaned back on the heels of the chair. “Maybe a devadasi.”
He had seen Lovesick recently, with Elizabeth McGovern and Dudley Moore, and said I would have been better in the part. He appeared to have given it a great deal of thought, taking it as a personal affront that my agents hadn’t gotten me a meeting with the director. “It’s just timing,” he said. “For you, it’s a matter of being in the right place at the right time.” I believed that, too, and we lifted our glasses and toasted each other with the cheap red wine.
Like the prince and the pauper, we might have switched clothes then and there. A part of him could have pushed the glass doors open each morning, dashing past Nora. She’d call him darlin’ and toss him an orange as he raced to the elevators and the third floor, late for speech with Tim or fight class with BH. A part of me was dying to take off, pack on my back and feet dusty with the world, seeing all that he would see. But we were half-grown then, and it was time to choose what defined us. It was enough that night to trade tales, and as we spoke, it occurred to me that I had never sat alone with him in candlelight before.
Outside, a warm wind chased my skirt back, then flung it forward. I wasn’t wearing stockings, and it felt almost balmy.
“Can I give you a lift?”
I was surprised he had his Honda and said so. For a New Yorker, getting around the city by car was uncommon; we had subways and cabs for that. Cars were for tourists and for leaving town on the
Geert Mak
Stacy, Jennifer Buck
Nicole R. Taylor
Aaron Starmer
Nancy Springer
Marta Szemik
Morgana Best
Monica Barrie
Michael Dean
Mina Carter