Rona Jaffe - Mazes and Monsters

He lay on their bed, waiting for her, and his thoughts drifted away to total blankness. He felt peaceful and calm. Not tired, just really good. She slipped into his room like a wraith, wearing her plaid flannel bathrobe that made her look about twelve years old. She had washed off the Fifties makeup and let her hair down. He thought she looked even more beautiful this way. She took off her robe and snuggled next to him, naked and soft.

“Why are you wearing your underpants?” she asked.

He’d forgotten to take them off. He felt her hands at the elastic, helping him. Then they were lying together, skin on skin, her fragrant hair falling across his face. She brushed it back with a graceful movement of her arm and kissed him gently. He kissed her back, sweetly, as one would one’s best friend. He felt no desire at all. He stroked her shoulder absently, remembering the way he used to feel — when was it? — a week ago, two weeks? Sometimes he lost time.

He felt her hand on him. He took it away, tenderly so he wouldn’t hurt her feelings. He hoped she would understand. It wasn’t her fault. It wasn’t his fault either; it was as if sex and desire had simply drained out of his life without his even noticing, almost imperceptibly, and now they were gone.

Her eyes were large and dark and sympathetic. “Robbie …?”

“It’s all right,” he said kindly.

“Of course it is,” she said. “This happens sometimes.”

It was best to tell her the truth. She would understand. “I can’t,” he said simply.

“You’re just tired. Don’t worry about it.”

“I can’t do it with you anymore,” he said.

“What did I do?” she asked. She sounded like a frightened little child now, not the understanding woman she had been pretending to be. He put his arms around her to comfort her. He knew she would not misinterpret the gesture.

“You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Are you mad at me?”

“No. You? Never.”

“Well, what do you mean you can’t do it anymore? You can’t, or you don’t want to, or what?”

He hadn’t even thought about it. “I don’t know. Both, I guess. I can’t give you an answer.”

She drew away from him and sat up, her arms hugging her knees. It reminded him of the first time she had taken him into her room, the night of Jay Jay’s party, when she sat on her desk and asked him to tell her about himself. That seemed so long ago, a lifetime.

“I think we should discuss this,” she said. “Rationally.”

“Please don’t be upset,” Robbie said. “I do love you.”

“I don’t understand,” she said. “Just because you don’t feel like doing it one time doesn’t mean you never want to do it again. Does it? I mean, don’t be silly. Look, if you don’t love me … if you met somebody else, or if you don’t want to go with me anymore, don’t lie and say you love me.”

“I do love you,” Robbie said calmly. “Why can’t you understand?”

“I’m trying to.”

“Why don’t we just go to sleep?” he said.

“I think that’s a very good idea.”

They lay side by side, on their backs, awake, still as two corpses. He was hoping he hadn’t hurt her, and that she would finally come to realize that even though he could never have anything to do with her again sexually it didn’t mean he didn’t still love her. There were different kinds of love. His was pure.

After a while she reached over and took his hand. “It’s all right,” she said.

He knew then that she really didn’t understand at all.

Kate looked at her body carefully in the mirror in her room. I’m not ugly, she thought. I’m certainly not ugly. It must be my personality. Maybe I’m too strong. She had read that strong women scared men off; there was something called The New Impotence. If there was, Robbie had certainly gotten it. He treated her like a beloved little sister.

He hadn’t tried to touch her for a month now, and she knew he never would again. At first she had been devastated. How ironic that she had been so sure of him that her only worry was that the relationship would become dull. Yet he really seemed to want to be her friend, and he was even sweeter to her than ever. Gone was the insistence on being with her all the time, and in its place was an almost instinctive consideration of her need to have time to herself. At least he hadn’t disappeared like all the other men in her life. After the night of the Fifties Prom he never asked her to sleep in his room again, nor did he try to sleep in hers, and Kate was too proud to ask him. He had made it clear that the love he talked about was platonic — and that was that.

The four of them played the game together more and more often. As they moved deeper into the caverns and began amassing loot and becoming surer of themselves, the game exerted a stronger pull than ever. Playing the game had become their favorite thing to do. Because of their need for secrecy they played on weekend nights instead of afternoons, and Daniel arranged his sex life around their new schedule. Kate had no sex life now, and she wasn’t interested in looking for anyone new. Jay Jay, as usual, had none, and as for Robbie, he hadn’t showed the slightest sign of interest in anyone new either. Kate wondered if there was something wrong with him. In some almost imperceptible way he had begun to change. Before, he had been sweet; now he was almost saintly. A guy in the dorm Robbie hardly even knew admired his shirt, and Robbie insisted on giving it to him. Oh, God, Kate thought in horror; maybe he’s going to become a Hare Krishna or something! When she and Robbie and Jay Jay went to a movie, or to buy food for the game, Robbie insisted on paying for it all. He said money didn’t mean anything. The only thing he wouldn’t pay for was their beer, but she supposed that had something to do with his alcoholic mother and his bad memories. He had stopped drinking altogether, not that he ever drank much to start with. He had also stopped eating meat, which as far as she was concerned was a good idea. Apparently having no sex, no meat, and no alcohol was healthful — Robbie seemed to be suffused with a pale glow. Kate knew she should be pleased, but somehow it made her uneasy. It came from his spirit, and she didn’t understand it.

But much more disturbing was his physical rejection of her. It was just like being ditched, except Robbie stayed around. She wondered if perhaps she was looking for strange things about him to explain his impotence with her, so she wouldn’t have to blame herself. No matter how much she intellectualized it, she did blame herself. She had made him go to the prom that night against his will; she had always taken the initiative. But if he hadn’t liked it, why hadn’t he said something? They were supposed to be best friends. She had to talk to somebody about it, and why not go to the authority? She knocked on Daniel’s door.

“Come on in,” Daniel said. He was doing a class assignment, but as always he looked pleased to see her. His room was immaculate, and she thought a little guiltily that he would probably think she was a slob if he saw hers.

“Your room is fantastically neat,” Kate said. “I bet you’ve got one of your love slaves cleaning it.”

“I clean it,” Daniel said pleasantly. “I’ll clean yours for five dollars an hour.”

“I might take you up on it. Can we talk?”

“Sure. Sit down.”

“Would you close the door?”

He went to the door and closed it. Then he sat next to her and looked at her with genuine concern. “What’s the matter?”

“I just don’t understand men.”

He burst out laughing. “ You? ”

“Don’t tease me,” Kate said. “I don’t know so much.”