A Collection of Short Stories
Volume 3
by
Wes Patterson
SMASHWORDS EDITION
* * * * *
PUBLISHED BY:
Wes Patterson on Smashwords
Cover art/design: Debra Cortese (debracortese.com)
A Collection of Short Stories
Volume 3
Copyright © 2010 by Wes Patterson
All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
Smashwords Edition License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.
* * * * *
I dedicate this collection of short stories to four special people.
First, my thanks go to my mother, Margaret Patterson, and my father, Henry M. Patterson, without whom this book would not come into existence. Then, I'd like to thank my wife who shares my passion for good literature, who read the manuscript many times and always gave it to me straight. I am also indebted to Samantha Friedman for countless hours she spent putting the finishing touches on the manuscript. And finally, my sincere thanks to Debra Cortese who designed a beautiful cover for this and many others of my books. Thank you all.
* * * * *
This volume of short stories follows Cal Rowland through his mature days of life when he finally concluded that there is no way to know what happens after death, and therefore he embarks on indulging in earthy pursuits, like winning at horse-racing and ridiculing those who take life too seriously.
Contents
The hot south Florida temperature continued on, way past the time you would normally expect it to decrease, and they both felt uncomfortable in the heat, sitting on one of the many benches placed strategically on the huge lawn of the mansion. She seemed to be somewhat troubled and deep in thought while he just sat there, more accustomed to the extreme heat.
“So,” said the girl, “I’m trying to understand you as a person. You say you’re on the river of life, and you just flow on this river, and you’re happy and nothing much bothers you, and nothing much affects you?”
“Well, I guess you might say I have a philosophy of life and I live a certain way, but I don’t know what you mean by that question that nothing much bothers me or affects me.”
“What I mean is, for instance, you don’t really care about me. You don’t really care what happens to me. You don’t have any feelings towards me. Even after we’ve been talking now for over a half hour.”
“Well, of course, I don’t have much feeling towards you one way or the other because, like with any other person that I would meet half an hour, I don’t think I would have much feeling one way or another. Most people, as a matter of fact, bore me tremendously. I very seldom spend any time, any time at all, with most people. But being as I feel directly responsible for your existence, I certainly don’t mind spending time with you and trying to get to know what has resulted from my contribution to your existence, and whatever you might want to know about me. I don’t mind spending this time with you.”
“You actually say you don’t mind spending time with me because you’re responsible for my existence, but you don’t seem to have any really great interest in spending any time with me. You don’t seem happy or overjoyed to see me.”
“I’m always so-called ‘happy’ or content. I’m not necessarily affected one way or the other by the fact that you’re here. I just feel it’s an interesting occurrence, an interesting event, that you would come over here, and that you would find me, and maybe we will have something interesting to say to each other. And maybe we won’t. And maybe for some reason you resent me terribly, and maybe for some reason your feelings are very positive towards me. But as for myself, I don’t have any particular feelings because I really don’t know you. And outside of this, as I said, this accidental asterisk or afterthought by which you were produced, and I feel directly responsible for your existence, I don’t feel any connection to you. And as I said, I feel that it could have been any other man. Your mother just happened to be with me that evening. And I fully believe she was, after looking at you, but she just happened to be with me, she could have been with any other man. And therefore, why should I feel anything special in this whole thing, not knowing you at all. I can’t possible feel anything one way or the other until I get to know you. Until we have long conversations on various topics and then I’ll feel that I’m drawn to you for some reason, or maybe I’ll feel the opposite, I don’t know. And I don’t place any great importance on this. I feel whatever will happen, will happen. If a relationship develops, it will develop. And if it doesn’t happen, it won’t happen. And I don’t see why I should place any great importance on this. Of course, if you want to that’s your prerogative, and I’m not about to tell you how to live your life, or tell you what should be important in your life, or what should not be.”
“But you, yourself, you feel you’re not important in my life. That actually you feel that you have nothing to do with my life. That you probably don’t want anything to do with my life.”
“I didn’t say that,” said Cal. “I didn’t say any of that. I actually would like to know more about you, because of the circumstances. I actually would like you to tell me more about what you feel and what you’ve been through. And if you’re interested in me, we certainly can have long conversations and discuss anything in life you might want to discuss. I’m pretty busy at this time with all my work, but I’ll always make time for you if you’re interested. And of course, if you do stay here for a while, you’ll have my sister and my wife to talk to and they’re very interesting in many ways. And, as I said, you’ll find them far more sympathetic to the fact that some time, twenty or so years ago, your mother and I had sex and the you were the afterthought, or asterisk, of this meeting. I think you’ll find them more sympathetic in human terms to all this and you might derive a lot more satisfaction from talking with them than talking with me, because apparently you do not somehow relate to the way I feel and the way I think.”
“No, I don’t,” she said, “I somehow felt all the way through this search of mine, through this long two or three year search, that when I finally found you, that you would be this graying, handsome. And you’re not graying at all, I see, and you don’t look old enough to be my father, but I somehow felt that somehow you would look like my father and that you would immediately embrace me, and love me, and feel tremendous guilt for abandoning me and my mother, and wished to make it up to me in any way possible. That I would feel safe and loved and cherished by you. I was constantly thinking of that sort of theme all the long two or three years while I was going from to agency to agency trying to track you down. And I was thinking at the culmination of all this we would have a tearful reunion. We would be truly as father and daughter almost immediately, that you would immediately accept me as a true daughter, and love me, and cherish me.”
“Well,” said Cal, “you thought absolutely wrong on that count because, as I said, I feel absolutely nothing one way or the other, because of the reasons I mentioned. Because, first of all as I said, anyone could have been your father. It just happened to be me, and the only connection I feel is a genetic one. However, as we get to know each other, who knows what might develop. I have no idea what I will feel or will not feel, and I’m not at all concerned which way it goes. Whatever happens, will happen. Whatever does not happen, will not happen. And that’s generally the way I go through life, and I’m sorry that this does not coincide with your elaborate fantasy, or your own personal idea of what a father might do, or how a father might act. But that’s the way it is. I happen to be your genetic father and if you’re not pleased with me, well, that’s life. It’s your problem, not mine. I am who I am and you are who you are. I might not be pleased with you, but if that were the case, it would be my problem. And that’s why I’m not pleased or displeased, because I don’t know anything about you, and that may come about only later.”
“So,” said the girl, “you go through life in this completely nonchalant, relaxed sort of way, hardly feeling anything, and feeling that everything will settle out in some way, one way or another. And you’re not concerned at all with how things actually turn out, or how things eventually settle themselves out.”
“Right. That’s more or less it. I am very fulfilled in my life and very happy with it as it is. And I pursue exactly what I want to do. And I truly enjoy life. But that doesn’t mean that I have to conform to anyone’s particular standard, or conform to whatever society might dictate, or conform to whatever is the norm in any particular situation. I am just myself. I have always been myself and that’s it, and you have to accept me for who I am, or not accept me. That’s up to you.”
“Well, if you feel so nonchalant and so disinterested and so unconnected to me, except genetically, I can imagine how your wife might feel, she, actually having no ties whatsoever with me. And actually me being a child of another woman. I can see that she might feel in a far more negative way even than you feel.”
“Well, you’re probably wrong about that. Because my wife has a completely different personality than I have, and a completely different set of values. And you might be almost 100 percent wrong about that. You might find that you and my wife are very much alike and you might find that she so-called ‘accepts’ you or ‘loves’ you or whatever you want to term it, in a far greater way or much more so than apparently I do. The fact that you are not genetically related to her wouldn’t mean anything to her. She has her own life and her own philosophy. As a matter of fact, she’s a philosophy teacher at the University. And my sister likewise, is equally different. I wouldn’t make any conclusions from my personality and my outlook and my whole concept of life, as to what my wife’s might be, or my sister’s. I am just who I am and you have to understand that although the great majority of people behave in a certain way, and you can feel confident that having a certain set of facts or having a certain set of circumstances will result in a certain outcome. That, generally speaking, having ‘A’ will result in producing ‘B’. That however is not necessarily true with me, as would generally be true with most of the population. You can’t necessarily say exactly what might happen with anyone else. I realize, after having lived a long period of time, how different from the norm I really am. But you have to understand that it doesn’t bother me at all, as I said. I just go my own way and if you so-called ‘like’ me, and are attracted to me, that’s fine. And if you don’t, well, that’s fine too, with me, that is. If there’s a problem, it’s a problem that you have. I have no problem with it, no matter what you do or how you feel. I have no control over what you feel or what you do, being as you are an adult now.”
“That’s just it. That’s just it in a nutshell. You don’t feel you have any control, or any interest, or any love, or any desire, or any feelings, or that you’ll have any effect on my life whatsoever.”
“I didn’t say that,” said Cal. “I didn’t say that at all. I said that I have my own life and my own view of life, and I just go right ahead and live it. And whatever I do, I do. And whatever I feel, I feel. And I certainly don’t worry about it. And I hardly ever even think about it. Again, if there’s a problem, it’s not my problem. My life is my life, to do with as I please, and I go right ahead and do that, whatever it is. And if anyone has a problem with that, then it’s their problem. I didn’t say I feel anything or want to do anything or don’t want to do anything. I have no idea what will happen. And you’re right in that I don’t much care what will happen because I don’t have any control over what will happen. Whatever happens, happens. And I’ll enjoy life just as much regardless of what happens. Because that’s the way I am and that’s the way I view life. Whatever comes up in my life is naturally enjoyable, satisfying, and fulfilling.”
“But the thing that bothers me so much is that you seem so unconcerned, so distant, so much so that you wouldn’t care if I died right now, on the spot, or if I killed myself because I found my real father so unresponsive. I feel you wouldn’t care if right now I went up in the bedroom and shot myself. You feel so unrelated, so distant, so cold.”
“Well, whatever I feel, and I don’t feel much of anything, as I told you, right now, I wouldn’t feel responsible for whatever you did. Just as I don’t feel responsible for what happened after that one night so long ago, I wouldn’t feel now responsible either, for whatever you might do after you met me. Because I am who I am. And if you felt so disappointed in me that you would go upstairs and take your own life, I certainly wouldn’t feel responsible for that either, because I’m not responsible for that. I am in no way responsible for it. I am who I am and that’s it. And whatever you do with your life, or if you decide to do something with your life because of something that I am, that’s certainly not my concern or responsibility. My only responsibility is to myself. My only responsibility is to live my life the way I want to live it, to tackle life the way I want to tackle it, and to fulfill myself in my own way. And that should also be your own responsibility to your life. You should take your life into your hands and find happiness and fulfillment in your own life, and not look to me, just because I’m your biological factor, for happiness or fulfillment or for love. You should not be looking to anyone. You should be directing your own life, and living your own life, and not feeling dependent on me or anyone else for your own happiness. So if you were to be disappointed in me, so disappointed in me, that you would take a gun and go upstairs and shoot yourself, and even kill yourself, no I wouldn’t feel any responsibility for that either. Because I am who I am and I’m not about to change for anyone, and I don’t think anyone else should have to either. Everyone has their own life and everyone has their own ideas and philosophy and live their own life. And you look to happiness and fulfillment in yourself. You don’t look to your daughter, or your son, or your father for happiness and fulfillment in your life. You find fulfillment in yourself and in your life. So, if I don’t fulfill your dreams and your concept of what a father should be, again it’s your problem. Not mine. Because I go about my life in my own way, and I don’t look to anyone to fulfill me and to make me happy, or to fulfill my dreams. Likewise, because I might not act as you would wish, if I don’t fulfill your dreams, this should not be your problem. You should have your own dreams and your own life to live and it should not be in any way dependent on your father, on whether he is this way or that way or whatever way he might be. Because that’s the way he is. And the same applies to your mother. You must live your own life and find your own path and find your own happiness and your own fulfillment, apart from anyone else.”
“Well,” she said, “I really don’t understand you for the most part. I’ve had such an unhappy life, and I’ve always wondered about my father, my real father, and I’ve been so unhappy with my stepfather, and I’ve been abused, and I’ve always had this wonderful dream, in my mind, how eventually I would find my real father. And eventually I did get old enough to leave the house and to do this, and eventually I did find my real father, and I find that he appears to be not at all concerned with whether I ever found him or whether I ever existed or anything else to do with me.”
“Well,” said Cal, “that is for the most part true. But it doesn’t only apply to you. You must not take this personally as if it applies only to you, to my daughter, genetically. It applies to everyone in my life. I don’t single you out and act this way just because you’ve come here, just because I’ve met you now. I live my life this way all the time. And I react this way towards everyone in my life, not just you. So you must not take this in any way personally. You must not take this personally in that I’m singling you out in some way and treating you differently than I would treat anyone else. Because that’s not true. I really enjoy my life. I really get the greatest thrills and fulfillment out of my life. You would really be surprised, I think, if you knew more about me. On the other hand, I really don’t care much about what other people think, or what other people do, or about what preconceived notions other people might have about how I should act. I really don’t care because I have too much in life to explore, to learn, and to think about. I have too many things to do, too many things to really enjoy, and love, and laugh about in life. Life is such a wondrous, unexplored territory for me. I can’t be bothered or concerned with what anyone else thinks I should feel or I should do or should not do or should have done or should not have done. So don’t take this personally in any way, because it’s not. I’m not treating you any differently than I would treat anyone else in my life. I just have no reason to treat you any differently and I wouldn’t. I just go about my life as I normally would. And the fact that you showed up here today on my doorstep means exactly what it means. That you’re here and I acknowledge that I’m responsible for your existence. And that’s about as far as it goes, as of right now. What will happen in the future, I don’t have the slightest idea. And how you’ll interact with Charlotte, my wife, or Astrid, my sister, I’m not at all sure either, and I don’t really care. It’s none of my business again. It’s not a part of my life. You see, I live my life the way I want to, exactly the way I want to, within the circumstances that I find myself, of course. I just can’t be concerned with what someone thinks about me or anything. And if you have built up all these dreams concerning your biological father, and have constructed these elaborate ideas and concepts, and I don’t fit these ideas and concepts, that’s your problem, not mine. Because again, I am who I am, and I’ll continue to be who I am. I’ll continue to do what I want to do, when I want to do it, and how I want to do it, and act any way I want to act. And this should not concern you in the slightest because you have the exact same right to do whatever you want to do, and effect whatever you want to effect, and act however you want to act. You cannot look to me or anyone else to personally make you happy or fulfill your desires or fulfill your needs. It’s as simple as that. I’m not sorry, even, that I don’t fit your concept of a long, lost, loving father, or whatever it is that your thinking about, because I am just who I am. And I’ll be going through all of life like this. And I suggest you rethink your life, your life philosophy, and that you rely on yourself for your own happiness, your own fulfillment, your own enjoyment in life. And I’m sure Charlotte will be glad to talk to you a lot about philosophy, if you have any interest in philosophy. Because as I said, she’s a philosophy teacher at the University.”
“But, you don’t seem to understand the terrible life I’ve had. You’re almost like a stone, or a stone wall, that I’m talking to. First, my mother has rejected me all my life for other men, and now, specifically for my stepfather, who has even abused me. And my mother, of course, doesn’t believe it, and finally, after all these terrible traumas of abuse by my stepfather and my mother, and lack of love from either of them, I’m finally able to get away and I find you, and you’re about as responsive to all my troubles, to my terribly troubled life, as a stone, or a brick wall. You just seem to have no response, no empathy, whatsoever.”
“I know very little of your life. I’ve only met you now for about 45 minutes, and whatever I feel or do not feel, or do or do not do, is not, again, my problem in any way, shape, or form. Again, you should not rely on me or anyone for your happiness. Now that you’re over 18 and able to leave home, and whatever happened before that is unfortunate, but now that you are over 18 and able to leave home and take control of your own life, you, yourself, must be responsible for the direction of your life and whatever happens in it, and must not look to anyone else for happiness, or fulfillment, or help in any way.”
“I just thought,” she went on, “that when I found you and met you that you’d immediately embrace me and love me and take me in, and my whole life would change, and I’d for once would be happy and be able to enjoy life.”
“Well, it doesn’t work that way. No one can ever find happiness or peace or fulfillment through someone else. Through someone’s father or through marrying someone else. Because, true happiness and peace and fulfillment comes from within yourself. That’s something that you cannot get from anyone else. That’s a popular misconception, that if you can only marry this ideal person who you might be in love with, that you will then be happy and fulfilled. You must discover within yourself, this happiness, fulfillment, and peace. And not look towards me as your father, or anyone else for this because you’ll only be disappointed, truly disappointed. And now, I don’t have much time left for today. Why don’t we go inside and see where Astrid is. I don’t think she’s busy right now, and I’ve got a lot of work to do. I’m sure you can stay here as long as you wish and you can get to know me if you want to, and my wife and sister also. And maybe you’ll find in them more common ground than you find with me. And maybe you’ll be able to establish more on a communication basis than you can establish with me. So, let’s go on in and see where Astrid is. I’m sure she’ll be able to fill you in on a lot of things because she was around at the time you’re so interested in. She was around in the old days and she can tell you a lot about those times.”
Cal and Julia walked up the steps to the mansion and into the living room, and saw Astrid on the floor wrestling with Wolfie, roughhousing with him, playing roughly, the way she sometimes played with him in a sort of mock recreation of an actual fight, in which Wolfie would growl and Astrid would leap, and both of them would tumble to the floor. Both enjoyed this roughhousing together, Wolfie, of course, never biting or else he could easily crush Astrid’s bones.
Cal and Julia stood there watching, and Cal finally said, “Do you know who she’s wrestling with?”
“A dog,” said Julia, “one of those sled dogs from up north.”
“Not exactly. She’s really wrestling with a wolf. It looks a lot like a sled dog but she’s really wrestling with a wolf.”
“A wolf? A real wolf?”
“Yeah,” said Cal, “I’ve had him as a pet ever since he was five weeks old.”
“This is your pet wolf?”
“Right. And Astrid more or less takes care of him because I don’t have the time.”
Astrid, by now, had stopped wrestling and sat down on the couch, and Cal said, “Astrid, this is Julia. She’s come a long way and she spent a lot of time trying to find me. A long time ago, I had sex with her mother and she’s the result of that time. And she’s really spent a lot of effort and time trying to locate me. I’ve got a lot of work to do now, Astrid, and I was wondering if you’d like to talk to her. You could fill her in on all the old times when this happened, when I was so wild, you remember, as a graduate student at the University. And you were around at that time, and I’m sure you could fill her in on a lot of the details. She’s very interested in the circumstances of her conception, of how life started for her, at that time. I was trying to answer most of her questions but I don’t think we had much common ground. I believe that you could really fill her in on what the times were like at that time, and what I was like, and she appears to be very interested in all the circumstances of her conception and her birth at that time, about 17 or 18 years ago. And we’ve agreed that she’s quite obviously my offspring. I really have a lot of work to do and I told her you’d be glad to fill her in on whatever she might like to know. Would you mind, Astrid?”
“Of course not,” said Astrid, “I’m really glad to meet you. What did you say your name was?”
“Julia. I’m sorry to bother or impose on you.”
“You’re not imposing on me,” said Astrid, “I’m really glad to meet you. I didn’t even know you existed.”
“Well, my father didn’t know I existed either and he made that rather obvious. And he suggested that I talk to you and that I might learn a lot more about how I came about and how I came to be.”
“Well, I’d be happy to talk to you,” said Astrid, “I’d be very interested in talking with you and filling you in on all that happened at that time, because I was there, and it was really a great time in our lives, and I can tell you all about Cal, your father, and all about what was happening at the time if you want.”
“Well, great,” said Cal, “then I’ll just go on upstairs and do my work and I’ll probably see you all for dinner. I don’t know where Charlotte is.”
“Neither do I,” said Astrid. “Well, you can come down around 9 for dinner.”
“Okay,” said Cal, “I’ll see you then.” And he went on up to his room.
Cal locked the door and the first thing he did, again, was to take off his boots, and lie back on the big soft pillow, and close his eyes. A whole new world, a whole new factor had entered his life, and this was maybe only the beginning of many more such offspring. And his mind drifted back to those times, and he actually placed himself at that time. He figured she was about 17 or 18. It must have been just at the time when he was in graduate school, and when he had all that free time and all those free nights, and his mind drifted back to all those times, to Shelley, and to Fitzpatrick, and to the few people who were important to him at that time.
And he even thought about Judy and Samantha and the exact circumstances of meeting his own wife. It must have all happened right about that time, that even now it loomed so important in his own mind. And he backtracked to that time and tried to locate, in his mind, this Nancy Kudelski. And of course, he drew a complete blank as to her name and as to everything else about her, as he knew he would, having had relationships with so many girls, on so many nights, through such a long period of time.
His mind just drifted and he thought, “Now, what is all this going to mean? Am I going to get demands from these offspring, or their mothers, or possibly even lawsuits? Or paternity suits, or whatever? Am I in for a lot of legal problems, in addition to possible harassment by these offspring?’ And he figured there might be quite a few, thinking back about all the women he had, and how he had taken so few precautions, and how the women didn’t seem to care either whether they got pregnant. He figured they didn’t care because a lot of them hoped to get pregnant, and in that way, somehow, marry him. Because he noticed that most of them took no precautions at all.”
And then he started to think, “What would he do, with this new girl, Julia? What was his real responsibility? Did he have any responsibility at all? And again he felt just as he had told her, that it was just a part of life, that it was a very natural thing, that it so happened he had all these nights free and he had nothing to do, and that he ate when he was hungry, and when he was sleepy he fell asleep, especially during long boring conversations of the many women. And when he felt the sex drive which was usually every 24 hours or so, he would look around for an appropriate sexual object, namely, an attractive girl. And he didn’t find anything else in these girls, he didn’t feel anything for these girls, as they offered him only one thing at that time, and that was, sex. Just as he relieved his drive to eat when he was hungry and to sleep when he was sleepy, and he really thought no more about it.”
“And even now, he thought it to be a very natural outgrowth of the times and the period and his own personality. And the fact that he had complete freedom during most nights. He had not made any great effort to seduce any women, in fact, he had done quite the opposite in deliberately creating situations that would turn most women off. He had no real interest in whether they went to bed or not. And it seemed that the less interest he had in whether they had sex or went to bed, the more interest they had in actually going to bed with him. So it all worked out very much as he would have liked, and he placed no great importance on this at all. And now the result of all these one-night stands, or one-night connections, were coming to the fore, were coming to the forefront, in the form of actual human beings, having developed in the past 16, 18, 20 years, in the form of actual young men and women that were the outcome of these very casual, normal, natural, in his mind, sexual unions. They meant almost nothing to him because these women meant nothing to him. So anything he did with them, whether it was eating, dating, studying, talking, or sex, had no real importance for him, because they had nothing to offer him, they in no way enlightened him or taught him anything, and the only thing he could remember that was in any way positive was the sexual release.”
“Just as he would have to eat to keep living, and to sleep to keep going, he felt at that time, a very strong sexual drive, and he felt, consequently, a strong desire to relieve it. And in his mind that was all there was to it. And that was what he was trying to tell this young girl, Julia. But it all seemed to be so foreign to her, so cold, or whatever she said, so distant, so cold, so scientific. And he didn’t feel that way at all. He just didn’t feel it was of any importance. And now that she was born and she had a life, he felt that she should concentrate on that, and whatever the circumstances of her birth were, and he didn’t have the slightest idea what they were, were irrelevant and not important at all.”
“He couldn’t understand why she kept coming back to that and why she was so interested in what had actually happened. He hoped that Astrid would be better able to explain to her his own personality and how he fit into the temper of the times, and how he treated things, and treated people, and treated events, and generally what he was like, and how he actually was, so that she wouldn’t feel he was lying to her, or insulting her, or in some way being deliberately cold to her, or whatever she was trying to get at. He hoped that Astrid would be able to set her straight, would be able to communicate with her in such a way that she would realize that all of this was such a natural thing, and that he was such a natural, easygoing sort of guy, and he was only interested in the most important questions, the great questions of life. And things such as sex and sexual relations, and girls, and eating, and sleeping, and studying, and classes, and all these sort of things were so routine to him.”
“And he only derived pleasure, great pleasure, from so few things, the great questions in life, from writing poetry, from experimenting with hypnosis, from driving the Mustang at maximum speed, on the curves on Route 26. He really didn’t care about all the other details in this period of his life, all the dating, all the classes, all the routine stuff, the dating situations, the going out, the talking, the going to bed, the next day, the next girl, the next course, the next class, the next event. All these things were, to him, inconsequential, and the fact that she resulted from one of these many, many, many nights, meant so little to him and he couldn’t understand why she kept focusing on it and why she wasn’t more interested in her own self, in her own development, in her own life.”
“And it was now, the present, and she kept harping back to what happened all those many years ago, which he didn’t even think was important at the time, was of any importance at the time, let alone, important now. So he hoped that Astrid would be able to somehow ease her mind, and ease her apparent suffering, which he apparently was unable to do. Because of his honesty and because he told her exactly what he felt, he thought she felt that he, in some way, resented her, or didn’t want her, or he picked her out especially in some way to hurt her or make her feel uneasy or uncomfortable, and this wasn’t true at all. And he hoped that Astrid would be able to put everything in its proper context, the temper of the times, and in the context of his own philosophy, and that he really didn’t care about so many things, so many things really didn’t interest him. And he hoped Astrid would explain to her how he felt about sex, and eating, and sleeping, and talking, and how so little of all that he did actually interested him, and how he couldn’t possibly remember any names, or very few if any, or very little of anything that happened during this period.”
And now he wondered, “What would come out of all this, what this girl might want next? What she might demand? What possibly he might have to do? Of course, he never did anything that he didn’t want to do. But he wondered how she might impact on his life now. Now she was a person. She was actually here. She was 18. She no longer was not existing. It no longer was 20 years ago and he was just floating around from woman to woman, from idea to idea, from conversation to conversation, and driving the old Mustang back and forth on Route 26. It was no longer that time. It was no longer a time of so much non-attention to so many things.”
“It was now 18 or so years later, and it was completely different. And he was so involved in so much right now, the racetrack, and his spiritual work, and it was a completely different time. And he didn’t really understand where this girl was coming from or what she really wanted from him, or what he could even give to her. He didn’t feel he could do hardly anything for her. Mainly because he really didn’t know her and attached no importance to how she came about, although he fully realized she was his biological daughter. But even that meant nothing to him. Because, what did that mean? Anyone could do sex, anyone who was normal could do sex and have many children and what did that mean? What did it all mean? Especially if you had never seen your offspring during your whole life. He felt it meant very little because he knew absolutely nothing about her. In fact he didn’t even know she existed until an hour ago. And yet she appeared to expect so much from him. So much in every way. And he had absolutely nothing to offer her. And he wasn’t trying to be mean or cold or scientific, he was just giving her his actual feelings and thoughts, and he actually felt that way, and he hoped that Astrid would be able to explain all this to her.”
“And now, he thought, she had obviously run away from home and was going to live here, and what was she going to do? Charlotte had her own work, Astrid had hers. And he was completely occupied with the track at this time and with John and with the coming trust fund, and he had very little time free, and he was wondering what Julia, if she were to stay, was going to do all day? Not only all day but all night.”
“And who would want to entertain her? Or whether she would have to entertain herself, or what she would do? Or even if she would stay. So he mulled all these factors over and over as he lay there trying to relax, and he really came up with no clear-cut answer as he didn’t have enough relevant information to make any. He really didn’t much care what she did as long as she didn’t interfere with his work, which at this time happened to be so important. He didn’t much care if she stayed or if she left, if she got along with Astrid or if she didn’t, and the same with Charlotte.”
“At this point, he was mainly concerned that she didn’t take up too much of his time because he didn’t have a lot of free time. He was busier now than he had ever been, thinking back over his life, with the track and with John and with all this money coming in and Gaylord and Jack and Eddie and all the factors that he had to juggle at the same time, while trying to navigate some type of effective route through all the important things that seemed to be happening at the same time. And then there were all the new challenges that John was beginning to talk about for the future, in the spiritual realm with the hypnotic trance state. He could never remember being so occupied and she just happened to drop in at this time, and he wondered exactly what she was going to do and whether she was even going to stay, and if she did, what was she going to do with her time here, and who was going to even take any interest in her?”
Around 3 a.m. he awoke, as he sometimes did, and just lay there in complete darkness on his bed, thinking. Usually he went down to the kitchen and grabbed a bite to eat. He would make himself a simple sandwich and maybe a glass of milk, and then go back upstairs, and either go to sleep, or start reading, or study the racing form, or whatever struck his fancy, whatever happened to interest him at the time. He wanted to go down and make himself a sandwich, but he felt that, somehow, Julia might be up and around, and he wondered whether to do so. Finally, he went down the stairs and opened the refrigerator, pulled out the usual plate of beef, and started slicing up the meat for a rye sandwich with mayonnaise. As he slapped on the mayonnaise liberally and put together the sandwich, he relaxed in the solitude of the old mansion. Everyone was supposedly asleep, and he the only one awake, making something to eat in the kitchen.
As he took his first bite, he heard something behind him, and then a voice, “Hi. I thought it might be you.”
And without even turning around, he realized that it was Julia, that Julia was up and around in the middle of the night. He didn’t say anything, just kept munching on his sandwich, as he often did at the track when a stranger would approach him for any of a number of reasons, usually for a pick. He didn’t turn around, he didn’t stop eating. He didn’t have anything to say.
“I hope you don’t mind that I’m up all night. That sometimes I stay up all night because I can’t sleep,” she said.
“I don’t care what you do. I don’t care when you sleep, or when you eat. Feel free to do anything you want. It’s okay. You can stay up all night and sleep in the day if you want. It doesn’t make any difference to me. It won’t bother anybody.”
“Do you stay up nights too?” she asked.
“Sometimes.”
“You can’t sleep either because things are bothering you?”
“No, nothing is bothering me. I just wake when I want and sleep when I want. That’s all.”
“Nothing is bothering you at night? Nothing is keeping you awake?”
“No,” said Cal, “nothing keeps me awake. I woke because I went to sleep early. Sometimes I’m awake all night, I don’t have regular hours. I don’t work nine to five like most people. So I sleep at anytime, and I’m awake at anytime. And I also eat at almost any time.”
“And sex anytime?”
“No. Those days are over.”
“Am I bothering you?” she asked.
“No,” he said, compromising his answer.
She walked over and took a seat opposite him.
He continued to munch on the beef sandwich, which reminded him of all his time at the track when he ignored everyone else except Gaylord and Jack, and he actually slurped at the mayonnaise at times, and continued to ignore her.
“You like beef?” she asked.
“Yeah. I’ve always liked it.”
“So you’re not into health foods, into healthy foods.”
“I’m not into anything with food. It’s not of any interest to me.”
“So many things are not of any interest to you.”
“Yeah,” said Cal. He was actually having difficulty enjoying his sandwich as he usually did, with her there staring at him while he ate. Finally, he finished the sandwich and wondered what to do next. He sauntered over to the refrigerator and opened the door, contemplating the possibilities. He saw a large jar of orange marmalade and his taste suddenly changed from the beef he had eaten, and he grabbed the jar and a half eaten loaf of white bread, which was the only bread now available. He went to the drawer and got a tablespoon and then returned to the table and proceeded to smear a couple of heaping tablespoons of marmalade over a slice of bread, and sat down again. Then, he immediately got up and poured himself a half glass of milk. Meanwhile, she watched, he felt, as if she were observing a new and strange creature and was actually interested in his every movement. When he sat down again, he started on the marmalade half sandwich, and sipped some milk, again ignoring her completely.
“You eat just anything?” she asked.
“Yeah. Anything I like. Why not?”
“I have to restrict my diet. I have to watch my weight.”
He didn’t even answer. He stood up and went to the refrigerator again, and brought the jar of marmalade back to the table and sat down again. He then poured a liberal amount out on a nearby plate and closed the lid. He then simply sat there and ate the marmalade without any bread at all, because he just felt like it, he felt like eating orange marmalade. It tasted sweet and yet tangy.
When he finished the marmalade, he went to the sink and rinsed the dishes off and then looked around to see that he hadn’t left anything out, noticing that she was still appearing to watch his every movement. Satiated, he went back to his chair and sat down.
“Don’t you want anything to eat?” he asked.
“No. I’m okay. I don’t eat that kind of food anyway.”
“What kind of food is that?”
“I don’t eat meat and I don’t eat a lot of sweet things.”
“You don’t eat any meat?”
“No. And hardly anything with sugar in it.”
“Why?”
“I’m a vegetarian and I have to watch my diet, as I told you.”
“So, what do you eat?”
“Fruits and vegetables and natural stuff like that.”
“And when did you start all this?”
“When I was about 14 or so and I started reading books on eating meat and sweets and things like that and how they weren’t supposed to be so healthy for you.”
“Not healthy?”
“Yeah. That’s what I read in some of the books.”
“Well, you can eat anything you want here if we have it. If we don’t have it you can go buy it. Here we eat just about anything that strikes our fancy.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Especially me. Sometimes I’ll eat a whole pie at one time, and nothing else.”
“Really? A whole pie? What kind of pie?”
“Any kind. But mostly lemon meringue with something real sweet. Something that might strike my fancy at the time.”
“You’d eat a whole pie just because you felt like it?”
“Yeah. A whole pie. Why not? What difference would it make if I ate a whole pie at one time or one a quarter of a pie at different times.”
“It just seemed strange, that’s all.”
“Well, maybe a lot of things I do may seem strange to you or be strange to you.”
“Well, they do. They really do.”
“Well, if I feel like eating a whole pie, I just eat it. I don’t see anything wrong with it. Just because everyone else may only eat, at the most, a slice of pie or maybe two. That doesn’t mean anything to me. If I feel like eating the whole thing I don’t see why I shouldn’t.”
“ I know. I’m sort of getting the idea about you.”
“I don’t think I’m that hard to understand, really. I just more or less do what I want. I just don’t think a lot about it.”
“I know. I was watching you.”
“You were watching me eat?”
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. It was sort of fascinating just watching you.”
“Why?”
“Because I never knew what you would do next.”
“So you were fascinated watching me eat?”
“Yeah, sort of.”
“That’s interesting. I’ve never been fascinated watching anyone eat. I don’t believe I’ve hardly noticed it.”
“I guess you wouldn’t.”
“Well, like I think I said, it’s just not important to me.”
“Well, what I take into my body is important to me, because of the books I read.
“Because of the books you read?”
“Right. The health books I read.”
“What health books?”
“Some of the diet books that come out for women and girls. They tell you what to eat and how much fat and calories are in foods. Things like that.”
“And you follow that stuff?”
“Yes. For my weight and for my health.”
“You really think it’s not healthy to eat beef and marmalade and bre4ad?”
“Yeah. That’s what the books say, anyway.”
“I don’t think it matters much, in the whole scheme of things, what you eat, as long as you’re reasonable about it. As long as you, say, don’t eat nothing but pies all day. When I said I ate a pie at one time, I didn’t mean I ate nothing but pies. I just meant that at that time I felt like eating a whole pie. And maybe I wouldn’t eat another pie for a whole month.”
“Well, I didn’t know what you meant really.”
“It’s really not important. Like I said, if I feel like eating a pie, I just don’t see why not. Why not just go ahead and do it. It’s not any sort of crime, you know?”
“I know. It’s just sort of strange.”
“Strange, huh? Anyway, I’ve never really thought much about eating and I just tend to eat whatever I find in the refrigerator or whatever Astrid has bought. She does most of the shopping and so I just eat whatever happens to be in there.”
“So she buys beef and marmalade and pork and all those other things in the refrigerator?”
“Sure. Astrid buys just about everything and anything. I told her to. I told her to go ahead and buy a lot of different things, a lot of different foods. I like a lot of variety. I don’t like the same thing every day. I might eat something for awhile and then switch. I like to try different things.”
“I have a pretty restrictive diet.”
“So I gather. Why would you want to eat the same things over and over?”
“Because that’s what the book said. That it was not healthy to eat certain foods.”
“Well, I believe certain foods are unhealthy but I certainly don’t include beef or marmalade in that group.”
“Well, the books seemed to say that they were, that they were unhealthy.”
“Right, that they were unhealthy. Well, I don’t believe any of that. I just don’ t believe it.”
“So you don’t believe what books say either?”
“I didn’t say that. I just said I don’t believe that marmalade or beef are unhealthy. At any rate, if you don’t find what you want here, feel free to go out and buy it.”
“It’s strange, you know, how we talk.”
“Yeah, it does seem sort of strange, when we think about it. Why are we talking about food anyway? Food doesn’t interest me. The whole thing doesn’t interest me.
“Again you’re saying that things don’t interest you.”
“Well, certainly, food doesn’t that much. And certainly talking about marmalade or beef or other common food doesn’t.”
“I think diet is an important part of one’s life.”
“Well, that’s fine. Eat whatever you want, as I said. I just don’t care. It’s not something that occupies any of my time. Astrid just goes out and shops and buys everything, just about anything. And a lot of times I’ll come down at night and see what’s in the refrigerator and pick out whatever I might happen to like. It just doesn’t make any difference to me. She doesn’t buy any unhealthy foods that I know of.”
“I didn’t know Astrid did the shopping.”
“Yeah, she buys most of it. But I go out and buy something I like sometimes, and Charlotte goes out and buys what she wants sometimes. There’s no hard and fast rule about it. And everyone eats whatever they want. We don’t have time to do much cooking or even to go out. So I’m accustomed to just raiding the refrigerator.”
“Yeah, I was watching you.”
“I know. You said that. What were you watching for? What were you looking for?”
“I was just sort of fascinated, that’s all.”
“By what?”
“By what you were going to eat. I was watching what you were going to eat.”
“That interests you that much?”
“Well, it was the only thing to do and it’s late at night and we weren’t doing anything else.”
“Well, I guess we weren’t. Maybe it was the only interesting thing for you to do at the time. Have you ever tasted marmalade?”
“I tasted it when I was young, when mother had it. But then I stopped after I read the books.”
“After you read the books?”
“Yeah. The books about sugar and fat and everything.”
“What else interests you besides food?”
“Right now, you, I guess. You’re about the most interesting thing.”
“Me? I’m the most interesting thing?”
“Yeah. Because I don’t know you and you seem so strange to me in so many ways.”
“Even the way I eat, right?”
“Yeah, even that.”
“Well, of all the things I do, I think eating is the least strange, because as far as I know, I eat just about the same things as everybody else does. I don’t have any real strange preferences. Like I said, I just come down and look for what’s in the refrigerator.”
“I even feel the way we talk is strange.”
“You know? I was thinking the same thing myself. To me, talking about food is strange itself, because I don’t remember, offhand, ever even talking about it.”
“Well, it’s a part of my life and a part of what’s important to me.”
“Right. Well, if you don’t find the right foods, like I said, just bring in anything you like.”
Are you going to eat anything else?” she asked.
No. I don’t feel hungry anymore.”
“So, when you don’t feel hungry, you don’t eat anymore.”
“Right. Why would I eat if I wasn’t hungry?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know what you’d do. I don’t know anything about what you’d do.”
“Well, I woke up about 3, and I felt hungry and that’s why I came down here, and when I ate, I satisfied that hunger, and that’s all there is to it. I think that’s pretty simple.”
“I wasn’t meaning to insult you or anything.”
“You haven’t. Like I said, eat anything you want.”
“What else do you think about food?”
“I’ve thought more about food in the last ten minutes than I’ve probably thought about it in my whole life.”
“So, it’s really that unimportant to you?”
“Right. Unimportant.”
“Are you going to go to sleep now or are you going to stay up the rest of the night?”
“I don’t know,” said Cal, “I don’t know what I’m going to do next.”
“You don’t even know whether you’re going to sleep or whether you’re going to stay up the rest of the night?”
“No. I haven’t thought about it. If I feel sleepy, I’ll drop off to sleep. If not, I’ll probably read or something.”
“You don’t even know?”
“No. I haven’t even thought about it yet. I don’t even know if I feel sleepy or not yet. When I get upstairs, I’ll probably know. I’ll either fall asleep or find something to read, one or the other.”
“But, you don’t know which, or you don’t care?”
“No. It just depends. Depends on how I feel.”
“You don’t have any hours at all, or any schedule?”
“Not really. Except I am at the track in the afternoon.”
“But otherwise you do anything that you feel like?”
“Yeah. Right. Just about.”