PARTISAN REVIEW
239
I leaned over and kissed her forehead. "I can't handle this. It
is not what I am. It is not what J was. Make up a story. Tell them I
had a nervous collapse due to the whatever. Tell them to go to the
Roxy instead."
The next morning as the ferry slipped into its slip, I saw her
for the first time. Standing so casually, waiting for someone, I
wished for the moment it was me. Every turn of her head, every
gust of wind caused her bright red hair to become even more
disarrayed than what it was. I tried to catch her eye, but no luck.
What a beauty. She was wearing an old-fashioned man's tee shirt,
cut out at the armpits with thin shoulder straps . Watching her
breasts slip about, more exposed than not, I had the feeling that at
any moment she was going to take her tee shirt off and start
casually fondling her nipples. She was causing quite a commotion
on the ferry. "Welcome to Fire Island," someone in back of me
said.
We were the last people off the ferry, and I walked over to
her. She was still intently peering at the empty ferry, and I had the
feeling that in her short lifetime, she looked like she was born
after World War Two, a thousand men had walked over to her like
I had, groping for that one really smart line that would let her
immediately know that they were not of the usual but a deep
sensitive human. "Hi," I said. She didn't even turn her head to see
who spoke. I thought it might be a practiced response. "There is
no one left on the ferry. We are the last people off, so if you are
waiting for someone they are not on this ferry."
"Dynamite. "
"My mommy died the day before yesterday," Loie said.
"Jesus, Loie," Pete said smacking her in the neck, "you don't
have to tell the world."
Loie looked hurt. "Let's go," I said. We started to walk and
she caught up with us at the grocery store.
"Hey, kid," she spoke to Loie, "you wanna ride in my
wagon?"
