EVENINGS AT HOME
"Is that you?" he asked in a low, untroubled voice that is unlike
any I have ever heard before. It seems to come at you from a great
distance, rolling like a wave.
"Yes, it is," I answered lightly and in exactly the opposite way
I had planned. But after I had spoken so hospitably I began to
worry about my family. They might return at any moment, and I
couldn't bear them to find him here, couldn't endure their curious
glances, questions, and recollections of the past.
"Don't bother me!" I said rapidly. "I don't want to see you.
What are you doing living around here anyway? It isn't fair for me
to come home to this.... I'm different now."
I could see his face quite well now and apparently he too had
changed because he actually registered an emotion. He looked at
me with disgust, his mouth opening slowly and curiously, his lazy
eyes blinking at me reproachfully.
"Bother you?" he said. "What do you mean? Come back to what?"
I began to tremble with impatience. "Don't you see?" I whis–
pered desperately. "I don't want them to know I've seen you again.
It would just start up the old argument."
He put his hand on my arm to steady me and I looked angrily
into his wide, immobile face. It was not frightening, but simply infuriat–
ing for it had a kind of prehistoric, dumb strength, so that he looked
like some Neanderthal ruler, superb and forceful in a savage way,
and quite eternal. My ghastly darling.
"Never mind. Dear God, it's too late now," I said, because I
saw the car driving up in front of the house and in a fit of weakness
I sat down beside him on the steps and buried my face in my hands.
I did not look up when I heard my parents saying something
dryly and politely, saying nothing much because they sounded tired
and sleepy. The perspiration on my forehead dampened my hands,
but somehow I was able to stand up and bid my old friend good
night. I smiled at him and he returned this last gesture shyly, and
turning away his eyes seemed in the evening light a soft, violet color.
As
I went into the hall I stopped before the mirror and saw
that my cheeks were burrung and that there was something shady
and subtly disreputable in my face. My mother was taking the
hairpins out of her hair. The great mysterious drama had passed,
but I knew that I could not stay at home any longer.
447
