Rafael Yglesias: Dr. Neruda's Cure for Evil

“I’m working at my old clinic, seeing kids again.”

“Why?” she asked in her child’s tone — all innocence.

“Sabbatical’s over. Time for me to get back to my work.”

“The book’s done?”

“I have more writing to do. How was L.A.?”

She cleared her throat. I heard her pour water into the coffee machine. “The business was great. We’re all set up to premiere in September. I was a big hit with everybody including …” She let it hang and then dropped the bomb, “Your cousin Julie.”

I knew I was in trouble, but I kept my voice cool. “How did you meet her?”

“She’s producing a movie for Edgar — or, for Alex, Edgar’s brother. But you know him. They certainly all know you. Especially Julie.”

I tried to ignore her suggestive tone. “And how did it go with Edgar? Did you get him into your bed?”

“His bed.” She laughed, a deep throaty noise. “He was the one with the suite.” The refrigerator door opened and shut. “I want to see you.”

“You’ll see me Monday night.”

“No,” she said firmly. “I want to see you today.”

It was my turn to become the curious child. “Why?” I asked gently.

“Because you’re a liar.” She was matter of fact. Remarkably composed, in fact. “I’ve been really stupid. I can’t believe what a jerk I’ve been. Anyway …” She sipped something. Presumably the first brewed cup of coffee. “If you want to see me ever again it had better be today.”

My heart was pounding. She called herself stupid, but I was the one who felt like an idiot. I should have anticipated the possibility that she would meet Julie. I don’t know how I could have controlled that encounter; nevertheless, I ought to have made an attempt. In retrospect, it would have been more sensible to aim Halley at someone other than Edgar. But Edgar was the ideal lure; he represented a more powerful male than Stick — in the dynamic of Minotaur he was the Holy Spirit.

“Well …?” she demanded into my silence.

So the crisis had come — and not of my making, thus I was not only unprepared, I didn’t know for sure which illusion had been dissolved. “Where should we meet?”

“You want to come here?” she asked.

“No,” I said. No matter how much damage had been done, her home must remain the exclusive location of our incest rituals, unpolluted by reality.

“It’s a nice day. Why don’t we walk in the park?”

“Okay,” she said in mild tone. The background chord of triumph was unmistakable, however. “I need an hour to take a bath,” she said and laughed, a laugh that frightened me. It resonated with a strange combination of delight and despair.

“I’ll meet you outside your building.” It was too early to phone Julie. Besides, how would talking to her help? Assuming Halley had gained my cousin’s complete confidence — and knowing my charming little narcissist, I had to assume that — what could she have learned the she didn’t already know in some form or other? The answer: that Julie and I had had a love affair. And perhaps some details about the clinic. But probably nothing about Diane and me — unless Julie had heard through family gossip. Before Aunt Sadie died, during happier times for Diane and me, she knew we were more than colleagues. I didn’t think Julie had been in close touch with Sadie, but Sadie might have told Aunt Ceil, who … By the time I reached Halley’s building, although clouds had covered what seemed to be a promising morning for New York, they had lifted for me. I could guess now what Halley must be feeling. My surmise didn’t relax me about the outcome, but at least I was prepared.

Halley emerged from her building wearing black jeans and an oversized workshirt with the sleeves rolled above her elbows. Accompanying the clouds was a cool wet breeze blowing off the park. She peered up and said, “It’s going to rain.”

“Let’s risk it,” I said and turned.

She came up beside me. Her raven hair had been dried and combed into a thick mane that reached halfway down the blue shirt. She had a light pink shade of lipstick on. Her already dark skin was a deeper shade thanks to the West Coast. She didn’t say anything while we walked to the corner, crossed to the park, walking along its border toward an entrance.

“Well?” I said. “Why did you call me a liar?”

“I’m a fool, but you’re sick.” She brushed her high forehead with a hand as if hair had fallen across it. None had. She twisted my way, slowing, almost walking backwards. “I still can’t figure out what you think you’re doing. I guess I’m stupid too.”

I stopped, backed up to the park’s stone wall, and leaned against it. The sky was heavy with clouds. The cars on Central Park West passed in a hurry, as if racing to be home before the storm. “Did you sleep with Edgar?”

“None of your business,” she answered.

I smiled. “How was it?”

Halley’s beautiful mouth hung open. She looked away, peering at the swaying trees. I felt a drop of rain on my head. She returned her eyes to me and they were slightly crossed. “That’s what you were trying to do? Fuck me up so I couldn’t have sex?”

I beamed at her. “And could you?”

She stepped up to me, almost touching, and snapped, “He couldn’t keep his hands off me. He loved it.”

By now I was grinning. I seemed to struggle in order not to laugh as I asked, “And how was it for you?”

For the second time since I’d known her, I saw tears fill her eyes. “I did it for you. I played that sick game for you.”

Still grinning, I shook my head from side to side. “I didn’t lie to you, Halley. I told you — it isn’t my fantasy, it’s yours.”

She shut her eyes and stamped a foot, shouting, “Just tell me the truth!”

“What truth?” I whispered. Another drop fell on my head. The gray pavement behind her was spotted by rain.

“Did your loudmouth cousin—” she started to say, talking at the ground. She inhaled and looked up at me. She hadn’t been able to control the tears. Her eyes continued to fill. She arched up on tiptoe and pressed her lips on mine. My elbows were resting on the stone wall. She put her arms around my chest and hugged my stiff body. She tried to push her tongue through my sealed mouth. Failing to break through, she broke off and said, “Kiss me back!”

I shook my head grimly from side to side. There was hardly any gray pavement left. Dark spots of rain had blackened the sidewalk.

“Is she telling the truth?” Halley complained, her mouth trembling. “Did you live with her—?”

She stopped because I was nodding.

“And with that other woman — at your clinic?”

I nodded.

“Are you going back to her? Is that why you’re working there?”

I nodded and asked her wounded face, “You couldn’t feel anything while he fucked you. Is that it?”

She put her hands on my waist — my arms were still resting on the wall, refusing to give her anything. She said softly, “I’m going to say something to you and I mean it. I really mean it.” So far, the rain wasn’t falling hard enough through the leaves of a tall maple over our heads for much to penetrate. A drop hit her forehead and trailed down her sagging cheek. She shut her eyes and swallowed. “I love you,” she said, as if she were praying.

I said nothing.

She opened her eyes. They weren’t crossed or red. They were clear and innocent.

With a clatter the rain came hard and fast, rattling through the leaves and wetting us. “I don’t love you,” I said.

She pulled at me with her small hands. “You’re lying.”

“You were just research for my book,” I explained.

“I’ll get him to marry me,” she pleaded, the shape of her hair dissolving in the rain. “And then that’s it — we’re finished.”