They had
become friends during the rehearsals of the play, inseparable in the week of
the performance, and had both lost their virginity together during spring
vacation. When Nat told his lover that he would not be going to Yale, but
joining her at the University of Connecticut, Rebecca felt guilty about how
happy the news made her.
Susan
and Michael Cartwright liked Rebecca the moment they met her, and their
disappointment over Nat not being offered an immediate place at Yale was
softened by seeing their son so relaxed for the first time in his life.
The
opening lecture in Buckley Hall was on the subject of American literature, and
delivered by Professor Hayman. During the summer vacation, Nat and Rebecca had
read all the authors on the assigned list-James, Steinbeck, Hemingway,
Fitzgerald and Bellow-and then discussed in detail Washington Square, The Grapes
of Wrath, For Whom the Bell Tolls, The Great Gatsby, and Herzog.
So
by the time they took their places in the lecture theater that Tuesday morning,
they both felt confident they were well prepared. Within moments of Professor
Hayman delivering his opening salvo, they both realized that they had done
little more than read the texts.
They
had not considered the 81 different influences on the authors that birth,
upbringing, education, religion and mere circumstance had brought to their
work, nor given any thought to the fact that the gift of storytelling was not
bestowed on any particular class, color or creed.
“Take,
for example, Scott Fitzgerald,” continued the professor, in his short story,
“Bernice Bobs Her Hair.”“
Nat
looked up from his notes and saw the back of his head. He felt sick. He stopped
listening to Professor Hayman’s views on Fitzgerald and continued to stare for
some time before the student turned and began talking to his neighbor.
Nat’s
worst fears were confirmed. Ralph Elliot was not only at the same university,
but taking the same course. Almost as if conscious of being stared at, Elliot
suddenly turned around. He didn’t acknowledge Nat, as his attention settled on
Rebecca. Nat glanced across at her, but she was too busy taking notes on Fitzgerald’s
drinking problems during his time in Hollywood to register Elliot’s unsubtle
interest.
Nat
waited until Elliot had left the lecture theater before he collected his books
and rose from his place.
“Who
was that who kept turning around and staring at you?” asked Rebecca, as they
strolled over to the dining hall.
“His
name’s Ralph Elliot,” said Nat.
“We
were both at Tail, and I think he was staring at you, not me.”
“He’s
very good looking,” said Rebecca with a grin.
“He
reminds me a little of Jay Gatsby. Is he the one Mr. Thompson thought would
make a good Malvolio ?”
“A
natural, I think were Thomo’s exact words.”
Over
lunch, Rebecca pressed Nat to tell her more about Elliot, but he said that
there wasn’t that much to tell, and continually tried to change the subject. If
enjoying Rebecca’s company also meant having to be at the same university as
Ralph Elliot, it was something he’d learn to live with.
Elliot
didn’t attend the afternoon lecture on the Spanish influence over the colonies,
and by the time Nat accompanied Rebecca back to her room that evening, he had
almost forgotten the unwelcome presence of his old rival.
The
women’s dorms were on south campus, and Nat’s freshman advisor had warned him
that it was against the regulations for men to be found in residence after
dark.
“Whoever fixed the regulations,” said Nat, as he lay
next to Rebecca on her single bed, “must have thought that students could only
make love in the dark.” Rebecca laughed as she pulled
her sweater back on.
“Which
means that during the spring semester you won’t have to go back to your room
until after nine o’clock,” she said.
“Perhaps
the regulations will allow me to stay with you after the spring semester,” said
Nat without
become friends during the rehearsals of the play, inseparable in the week of
the performance, and had both lost their virginity together during spring
vacation. When Nat told his lover that he would not be going to Yale, but
joining her at the University of Connecticut, Rebecca felt guilty about how
happy the news made her.
Susan
and Michael Cartwright liked Rebecca the moment they met her, and their
disappointment over Nat not being offered an immediate place at Yale was
softened by seeing their son so relaxed for the first time in his life.
The
opening lecture in Buckley Hall was on the subject of American literature, and
delivered by Professor Hayman. During the summer vacation, Nat and Rebecca had
read all the authors on the assigned list-James, Steinbeck, Hemingway,
Fitzgerald and Bellow-and then discussed in detail Washington Square, The Grapes
of Wrath, For Whom the Bell Tolls, The Great Gatsby, and Herzog.
So
by the time they took their places in the lecture theater that Tuesday morning,
they both felt confident they were well prepared. Within moments of Professor
Hayman delivering his opening salvo, they both realized that they had done
little more than read the texts.
They
had not considered the 81 different influences on the authors that birth,
upbringing, education, religion and mere circumstance had brought to their
work, nor given any thought to the fact that the gift of storytelling was not
bestowed on any particular class, color or creed.
“Take,
for example, Scott Fitzgerald,” continued the professor, in his short story,
“Bernice Bobs Her Hair.”“
Nat
looked up from his notes and saw the back of his head. He felt sick. He stopped
listening to Professor Hayman’s views on Fitzgerald and continued to stare for
some time before the student turned and began talking to his neighbor.
Nat’s
worst fears were confirmed. Ralph Elliot was not only at the same university,
but taking the same course. Almost as if conscious of being stared at, Elliot
suddenly turned around. He didn’t acknowledge Nat, as his attention settled on
Rebecca. Nat glanced across at her, but she was too busy taking notes on Fitzgerald’s
drinking problems during his time in Hollywood to register Elliot’s unsubtle
interest.
Nat
waited until Elliot had left the lecture theater before he collected his books
and rose from his place.
“Who
was that who kept turning around and staring at you?” asked Rebecca, as they
strolled over to the dining hall.
“His
name’s Ralph Elliot,” said Nat.
“We
were both at Tail, and I think he was staring at you, not me.”
“He’s
very good looking,” said Rebecca with a grin.
“He
reminds me a little of Jay Gatsby. Is he the one Mr. Thompson thought would
make a good Malvolio ?”
“A
natural, I think were Thomo’s exact words.”
Over
lunch, Rebecca pressed Nat to tell her more about Elliot, but he said that
there wasn’t that much to tell, and continually tried to change the subject. If
enjoying Rebecca’s company also meant having to be at the same university as
Ralph Elliot, it was something he’d learn to live with.
Elliot
didn’t attend the afternoon lecture on the Spanish influence over the colonies,
and by the time Nat accompanied Rebecca back to her room that evening, he had
almost forgotten the unwelcome presence of his old rival.
The
women’s dorms were on south campus, and Nat’s freshman advisor had warned him
that it was against the regulations for men to be found in residence after
dark.
“Whoever fixed the regulations,” said Nat, as he lay
next to Rebecca on her single bed, “must have thought that students could only
make love in the dark.” Rebecca laughed as she pulled
her sweater back on.
“Which
means that during the spring semester you won’t have to go back to your room
until after nine o’clock,” she said.
“Perhaps
the regulations will allow me to stay with you after the spring semester,” said
Nat without
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