Robert Pirsig - Lila. An Inquiry Into Morals

We can’t stop, he said. I told you. That would get us out of phase with the current and we’d have to buck it down around West Point. He wasn’t sure if she knew this river flowed backward twice a day.

Rigel says there are moorings at Nyack, he added, and from there it’s an easy sail into Manhattan. I want to keep that last distance short… Leave some margins… There’s no telling what’s down there.

With a match he lit the propane torch and then directed the flame onto one side of the burner so that it would become hot enough to vaporize the kerosene. These stoves could not burn kerosene liquid — they could only burn kerosene gas.

Is Richard going to be there? Lila asked.

Where?

Where we stop.

I doubt it, Phædrus said. In fact I’m sure he isn’t.

When the burner was red hot from the propane torch he turned its doorknob handle a crack. A hot blue flame took hold. Phædrus shut off the propane torch and put it on a shelf where the hot tip couldn’t touch anything. Then he filled a kettle of water from the galley sink and put it on top of the burner.

Lila said, How long have you known him?

Who?

Richard.

Too long, he said.

Why do you say that?

I just like to be by myself, he said.

You’re a loner, eh? Lila said. Just like me.

He went up the ladder halfway and looked out to see if she was still on course. It was all right.

It must be nice to have a boat like this all your own, she said. Nobody ever tells you what to do. You just move on.

Yeah, he said. It was the first time he had ever seen her smile. Im sorry about breakfast, he said. That was a working dock we were at. We were right next to the crane. We had to get off so they could use it.

When the coffee was done he brought it up, and sat across from her and took the tiller.

This is nice, Lila said. That last boat I was on was too crowded. Everybody was in everybody else’s way.

That’s not a problem here, he said.

Do you always sail alone? she asked.

Sometimes alone, sometimes with friends.

You’re married, aren’t you?

Separated.

I knew it, Lila said. And not very long, either.

How do you know that?

Because there isn’t any food on this boat. Real bachelor men always cook. They don’t just have junk food in the icebox.

We’ll have the biggest steak in town when we get to Nyack, he said.

Where’s Nyack?

It’s just a little way from Manhattan, on the New Jersey side. From there it’s just a few miles.

Good, she said.

Do you know a lot of people in New York?

Yes, she said. Lots.

Did you use to live there?

Yes.

What did you do?

She glanced up at him for a second. I used to work there.

Where?

Lots of different jobs.

What did you do?

Secretary, she said.

Oh, he said.

That sort of exhausted that. He didn’t want to hear about her typing.

He tried to think of some other topic. He wasn’t any good at small talk. Never was. Dusenberry should be here. This was getting like the reservation again.

Do you like New York? he asked.

Yes.

Why?

The people are so friendly.

Was she being sarcastic? No, her expression didn’t show it. It was just blank. Like she’d never been to New York.

Where did you live? he asked.

West Forties, she said.

He waited for her to continue, but she didn’t. That, apparently, was it. Real chatterbox. She was worse than the Indians.

What a change from last night. No illumination today. Just this kind of dull face staring ahead not looking at anything in particular.

He watched her for a while.

It certainly wasn’t an evil face, though. Not low quality. You could see it as pretty if you wanted to.

Her whole head is wide, he thought. Brachycephalic, a physical anthropologist would call it. A Saxon head, probably, judging from her name. A commoner’s head, a medieval yeoman’s head, good for cudgeling, with the lower lip ready to curl. But not evil.

The eyes were out of place somehow. Her whole face and body and style of talking and action were all tough and ready for anything, but those eyes when she looked right at you were something else, like some frightened child looking up from the bottom of a well. They didn’t fit at all.

This was a beautiful valley, spectacular valley, the day was great, but she wasn’t even noticing it. He wondered why she had come sailing in the first place. He supposed all that break-up with those people on the previous boat was depressing her but he didn’t want to get into it.

He asked, How well do you get along with Richard Rigel?

She seemed a little startled. What makes you think I don’t get along with him? she said.

Last night when you first came in the bar he told you to shut the door, remember? And you slammed it and said "Does that suit you?" and I got the impression you knew each other and were both angry.

I know him, Lila said. We know some of the same people.

Well, why was he mad at you?

He wasn’t mad at me. He just talks that way.

Why?

I don’t know, she said.

She finally said, He’s very moody. One moment he’s very friendly and the next moment he acts like that. That’s just the way he is.

To know that much about him she had to know him very well, Phædrus thought. Obviously she wasn’t telling everything, but what she said certainly rang true. It explained Rigel’s attack this morning in a way that had never occurred to him. Rigel was just cranky and quixotic and attacked people without any explanation.

But something in him didn’t buy that explanation either. There was a better one. He just hadn’t heard it yet. All this didn’t explain why Rigel was attacking her and why she seemed to defend him. Usually when one person hates another the feeling is mutual.

How is Rigel regarded back in Rochester? he asked.

How do you mean? Lila said.

Do people like him?

Yes, he’s popular, Lila said.

Even though he’s moody and turns on people who haven’t done anything to him?

Lila frowned.

Would you say he’s a very "moral" person? Phædrus continued.

No, not particularly, Lila said. Like anyone else. She looked really annoyed. Why are you asking all these questions? Why don’t you ask him? He’s your friend, isn’t he?

Phædrus answered, He seemed to act awfully stuffy and moral and preachy this morning, and I thought that if you knew him you might be able to tell me why.

Richard?

He seemed to object to my being with you last night.

When did you talk to him?

This morning. We had some conversation before the boat got off.

It’s none of his business what I do, Lila said.

Well, why should he make such a fuss?

I told you, that’s the way he gets sometimes. He’s moody. Also he likes to tell other people what to do.

But you said he was not especially moral. Why would he pick on morals?

I don’t know. He gets it from his mother. He gets everything from his mother. That’s the way he talks sometimes. But he doesn’t really mean it. He’s just moody.