Элизабет Страут - Olive, Again

“Hello, Charlene, that’s quite a dress you’ve got on today.” Fergus gave her a nod.

“Yes, it is,” said Mark Wilton. “Look at you.”

“Well, thank you, boys. I made this dress myself by hand .” Charlene stood there, a few beads of sweat lining her upper lip. “I thought to myself, no sewing machines back in those days, so off we go, Charlene, you can do this, and so I did.”

Fergus stood up and said, If they would excuse him, he’d forgotten something back at his house.

“What’d you forget?” asked Charlene, and he just shook his head. As he got into his truck he saw that she was still watching him.

In the driveway, he was surprised to see Laurie’s car, and even more surprised when he saw his grandson, Teddy—named after the dog—sitting in the backseat of the car. “Teddy Bear,” said Fergus, opening the car door. “What are you doing sitting here all alone?”

The boy looked at him with serious eyes. “Mom said I couldn’t come in, that the conversation was something I couldn’t hear.”

“Uh-oh,” said Fergus. He loved this kid like the devil. “Aren’t you kind of hot?”

The boy nodded. “But I got the windows down. She said she wouldn’t be long.”

“How long has she been in there?”

The boy shrugged. “I don’t know. Not very long, I guess. I just wish—” He looked around miserably. “I just wish I didn’t have to sit here.” Then he said, quizzically, “Grandpa, you’ve got your uniform on. It looks different.”

“Come sit on the porch, at least,” said Fergus. “Come on, I’ll take the blame if you get in trouble for just sitting on the porch. Come on, Bear.” And so Teddy got out of the car with a book, and he sat down on the first step of the porch.

“Why does your uniform look different?” Teddy asked.

“Oh, it’s not pressed.”

“Pressed?” Teddy asked, squinting up at his grandfather.

“It’s not ironed. Probably why it looks different.” Fergus glanced down at his pants, and was struck by how rumpled they were.

Through the open window came sudden hollering.

Teddy looked up at Fergus with alarm in his eyes, and Fergus said, “Okay, back in the car, kid. I’ll come get you soon. I promise.” And so the boy returned to the car, and said, “It’s going to be okay, right?” And Fergus said, “You bet it is,” and he thought the boy’s face relaxed some, and this pleased Fergus unduly.

“Did she tell you?” Laurie flung these words at her father when he walked into the house. “Did she?”

“She did,” Fergus said. “Just calm down.”

“That she sticks pins in men’s penises? Did she tell you that?”

Fergus had to sit down. “For Christ’s sake, Laurie. Stop it.” His scrotum seemed to shrivel as he said this.

“You’re telling me to stop it? I can’t believe you’re telling me to stop it. I’m the normal one in the family! Oh my God, your daughter is a prostitute and you’re telling me to calm down.” Laurie’s neck stuck forward a bit as she said this.

“Yes, I am,” Fergus said. “I am asking you to calm down right now, Laurie MacPherson. This is not helping matters one bit.”

Laurie turned to her mother. “Mom. Help me out here. Please.”

But Ethel, who had been standing behind her chair, now sat down in it and she said only, “Oh, Laurie.” She added, “But she’s not a prostitute, Laurie. I think.”

“Oh my God,” said Laurie. She dropped her pocketbook onto the floor and put both hands on her hips.

“It’s just that I don’t know what to say,” Ethel said. “Can’t you understand that? I just don’t know what to say . The whole thing has been—it’s just been awful.”

“You think ?” Laurie gave a little dramatic head toss as she said this.

Fergus said, “Laurie, for Christ’s sake, calm the hell down. Now.”

Laurie pressed her lips together, then reached down and picked up her pocketbook. She said quietly, “This is the sickest family that ever lived on God’s earth.” She turned and walked through the door, slamming it so hard that a pan on the other side of the kitchen fell from a shelf it was on.

Fergus rose and went after her. “Teddy Bear,” he said to his grandson, bending down to speak to him through the car window, “let’s you and I see each other soon. Your mother’s mad at the moment, but she’ll get over it, and then you and I can go fishing.”

“Fishing,” said Laurie, as she strapped her seatbelt on. “You can go effing fishing all right.” And she drove out of the driveway with her tires squealing while her poor son looked down at his lap as Fergus waved to him.

In the living room, Lisa seemed serene. She was wearing a white T-shirt and jeans, and she looked young. She was speaking to her mother, and she turned her body slightly to include her father as he came in and sat in his chair. A glance at Ethel made Fergus actually feel sorry for his wife; she seemed frightened, and smaller physically. Lisa was saying, “You know, I just want to say, Mrs. Kitteridge told us, years ago in that math class—I will never forget it—one day she just stopped a math problem she was doing on the board and she turned around and she said to the class, ‘You all know who you are. If you just look at yourself and listen to yourself, you know exactly who you are. And don’t forget it.’ And I never did forget it. It kind of gave me courage over the years because she was right; I did know who I was.”

“You knew you were a—a dominatrix?” Fergus asked. “Is that what you’re saying?”

“Kind of, yes, that is what I’m saying. I knew, I always knew I loved to dress up, and I like to tell people what to do, I like people, Dad, and these people have certain needs and I get to fulfill them, and that’s a pretty great thing.”

Ethel said, “I’m just not understanding this. I am not understanding this at all.” Her eyes seemed like they were turning in different directions; this is the image Fergus got when he glanced at her again. He also noticed that the roots of her hair were dark and the yellow parts were sticking out; she must have been running her hand through it—yes, there, she did it, ran her hand through her hair. “Honey, I’m trying,” Ethel said. “Lisa, I am trying, but I just don’t get it.”

Lisa nodded patiently. Her dark eyes shone and her face had that glow that it had when she had first walked into the house. “And this is exactly why we’re doing the documentary. Because people don’t have to feel so—so, so, you know, marginalized anymore if they are into this stuff. It’s all just human behavior, and that’s what we’re trying to say.” She smoothed her hair over her shoulder; she had a confidence that was notable.

Fergus cleared his throat, and sat forward with his elbows on his knees. “If putting needles into some man’s penis is acceptable human behavior, then something’s very, very wrong.” He tugged on his beard. “ God , Lisa.” He stood and turned to leave the room, then turned back and said, “Human behavior? For Christ’s sake, the concentration camps run by the Nazis were human behavior. What’s this defending-human-behavior crap? Honestly, Lisa!”

And then the tears came. Buckets of them. Lisa wept and wept, her eyes becoming smudged and causing black stuff to roll down her cheeks. How could he say she was a Nazi ? How could he say that? And then, after minutes of sobbing noisily, she said it was because of ignorance. She stood up; there was a smudge of black eye makeup on her white T-shirt. “I love you, Dad,” she said. “But you are ignorant.”