Эд Макбейн - Last Summer

So why did you do it, that’s what I’m trying to understand? You knew I didn’t want you to, I tried to stop you often enough, I pleaded with you to stop, and yet you went right ahead with it, getting him so drunk he didn’t know what he was doing, and then pitting him against those three hoodlums, who were those three boys, anyway?

“Some boys,” I said.

“Who?”

“Just some boys.”

Peter, she said, this is just what frightens me, this is just what I was trying to tell you about, this loss of feeling for anything that’s real . Aníbal was real , Peter, he was a very real person, and you got him drunk just for kicks, and then threw him up against those boys without a thought, almost as if he were made of plastic. Peter, we’re not made of plastic yet, we don’t have plastic hearts and livers and lungs, we don’t run around on plastic wheels, we don’t have plastic tapes inside us telling us what to love or hate, not yet we don’t.

“Nobody said we did,” I answered.

“Peter, don’t I matter to you at all?” she asked.

“Rhoda,” I said, “I don’t know if you realize how serious the situation was last night.”

“You didn’t answer my question,” she said.

“Those guys weren’t fooling around,” I said. “If they’d have caught us...”

“Then why didn’t you try to stop them? Why’d you send Annabelle?”

“I didn’t send anybody.”

“Sandy did. She sent a skinny little...”

“He wasn’t skinny.”

“He was skinny, and he was drunk.”

“Well, he shouldn’t have got drunk,” I said, and sighed and looked out over the water. I felt intimately but mistakenly involved with her, as though everyone around us wrongly assumed we’d been whispering lovers’ secrets to each other, as though even our silence now blatantly advertised a relationship that didn’t really exist. I had not asked her to love me. I had not even asked her to understand me. I felt suddenly trapped. Anxiously, I searched the water, looking beyond the crashing surf to the choppy waves hoping that David and Sandy would come out to join me. I thought again that I should get up and leave Rhoda, plunge into the ocean, let the cold water shock me back to life, wash off the sunshine gilt that was paralyzing me. I didn’t want her to start crying again, though; I couldn’t bear the thought of her crying again. At the same time, I didn’t want anymore of this crap, either.

“Listen,” I said, “I don’t find this conversation very pleasant.”

“Neither do I.”

“So let’s talk about something else.”

“No, let’s talk about what you did last night.”

“Oh, Rhoda, for Christ’s sake, get off it!” I had raised my voice, and I turned swiftly now to see if I’d attracted anyone’s attention. The couple on the next blanket were soul-kissing. A tidal wave could have moved in from Hawaii to inundate California, the Middle Western states and the entire Eastern seaboard without disturbing them. I looked back at Rhoda and whispered, “What the hell did I do that was so awful, would you mind telling me?”

“You behaved like a coward,” she said.

“Oh, thanks.”

“You ran.”

“That doesn’t make me a coward.”

“Doesn’t it?”

“I didn’t want my skull bashed in. Also, Rhoda, I came back for you. Perhaps you’ve forgotten that I came back for you.”

“No, I haven’t forgotten that. Why’d you come back, Peter?”

“Because you were in danger.”

“Then why didn’t you stay and help Annabelle?”

“Because Annabelle means nothing to me.”

“Do I? ”

“I don’t know, Rhoda.”

“All right,” she said.

“And that’s the truth.”

“All right,” she said again.

“Rhoda,” I said, “let’s get this straight, okay?”

“Okay,” she said.

“You’re a swell person,” I said, “and I really like you.”

“Thank you.”

“And most of the time, I enjoy being with you. That day in the forest, for example, when we were talking, I felt... Rhoda, I felt almost happier than I’ve ever felt in my life. I hope you believe me, Rhoda.”

“I believe you, Peter.”

“And I find you very attractive, too, and sexy, well, I really shouldn’t talk this way.”

“I don’t mind, Peter.”

“But Rhoda, when you start analyzing everything...”

“I’m sorry, Peter.”

“It’s just that you make me feel awful.”

“I’m sorry. Really I am.”

“You see, Rhoda...”

“Yes, Peter?”

“We didn’t mean any harm last night.”

She stared at me silently for a long while. Her eyes were wide and serious, challenging the sun’s glare, challenging my face, challenging my words. She suddenly looked old. I had once seen a photograph of an Oklahoma sharecropper, a woman with suffering silence in her eyes, pain drawing her mouth tight, weariness etched into every line of her face. Rhoda looked just that way now.

“Didn’t you?” she said at last. “Didn’t you mean any harm?”

“We were only trying to have a little fun,” I said.

“A little fun,” she repeated blankly.

“We didn’t know the night was going to turn out the way it did. Rhoda, we couldn’t have known.”

“No, you couldn’t have known,” she said.

“Rhoda, for Christ’s sake, don’t start in again. You make me feel...”

“I’m sorry.”

“Yes, you’re sorry, but you keep doing it all the time. Why can’t you just...?”

“Just what , Peter?”

“Just... just shut up every now and then?”

“Not speak?” she said. “Not think?” she said.

“Oh, Jesus,” I said.

“I didn’t want to come here today,” she said, “I knew I shouldn’t have come.”

“Then why the hell did you?”

“Because Sandy was so sweet on the phone, and I thought...”

“Sandy doesn’t bear grudges,” I said.

“Must you always side with her?”

“You shouldn’t have bit her.”

“She shouldn’t have sent Annabelle to fight those...”

“Are we back to that again?”

“Yes, we’ll always be back to that again!”

“Rhoda,” I said, “you’re beginning to give me a fat pain in the ass.” I rose suddenly, brushed sand from my thighs, and said, “I’m going in.”

“Peter...”

“Yes?” I had my hands on my hips, and I was looking down at her.

“Nothing,” she said.

“I thought maybe you wanted to come in,” I said, and grinned.

“No. I’m afraid.”

“You’re afraid of too many things,” I said. “That’s your trouble.” I looked down at her a moment longer, and then turned and walked to the water’s edge and plunged through the crashing surf. The ocean was cold and dark. I swam underwater for perhaps fifteen feet with my eyes wide open, but I couldn’t see a thing. When I surfaced, I opened my mouth to gulp in some air, and a high choppy wave hit me full in the face. Coughing, I treaded water, and looked around for David and Sandy, spotting them farther out. I swam over to them.

“Hi,” Sandy said.

“Hi, beautiful.”

“Nice lovely calm day, isn’t it?” David said.

“Oh, delightful,” I said.

“I’m bare-assed,” Sandy said.

“Really?”

“Look,” she said, and held up her bikini pants.

“What’s the difference between America and France?” David asked.

“I don’t know,” I said, the perfect straight man. “What’s the difference between America and France?”

“In America,” David said, “your goose is cooked, but in France,” he said, “your cook is goosed,” and suddenly Sandy let out a surprised yell and leaped about three feet out of the water. I couldn’t imagine what it was at first; the only thing I could think of was a shark. And then I realized that David had goosed her, and I burst out laughing.