After Claude (21 page)

“That was fantastic,” he murmured into my ear. “Beautiful, Harriet. I’m proud of you.”

I didn’t need to speak. I crawled deeper into Roger’s lap. His terrible anger was gone. It was like receiving a reprieve after the execution.

“We hardly ever see a breakthrough like that, not behind a thousand milligrams.” He rocked me in his arms. “Baby, you let the bad shit out. You’re beautiful.” He pushed me away from his chest and studied my face. He hugged me. “I see the change in your face. It’s fantastic. Do you feel better?”

“Yes,” I said, Roger’s approval filling me with contentment.

“I’m glad,” Roger said. “Baby, I’m sorry you had to go through so much pain to get there, but you have a lifetime of suffering to get rid of. Your capacity to suffer is proof of your capacity to feel joy. Christ,” he said, “what a potential. A few more sessions like this one and you’d soar, like a bird, like a beautiful, radiant, highflying bird. I knew it,” he said, giving vent to his elation, “as soon as you walked into the room. I wasn’t asleep. Under all that shame and hostility and lying and aggression is a lovely, vulnerable girl. How will she become whole,” he gently shook me, “without a real man to receive her?” He rubbed his knuckles tenderly against my cheek.

“Roger,” I said tiredly, “please take me with you.” I had no reasons to give him, only a need to be with him. I sat up, balancing myself on the arm of the chair. “I must be with you.” I couldn’t imagine living outside his arms.

He patted my thigh. “We’ll see, Harriet. I’ll be back in New York soon, and we’ll both think about it.”

“No, no, I don’t want to think. I’m afraid, I feel in my bones that if we separate, it will be forever. Roger, I must be with you. I can’t be alone. What will happen to me?” I clung anxiously to him.

“Don’t push, Harriet, I need time to think. I can’t impulsively take you to the Institute. Victor wouldn’t like that, and he’d be right. The Institute is hard going, especially for the girls. They are the heart and hands of the Institute. You’d have cooking, fanning, cleaning the cabins, and attending with joy to all the needs of the men.”

“What else has my life been?” I cried. “Except now I’d be doing it with a purpose. Roger, please, I need to learn, I want to learn. Take me to the Institute.”

“No,” he said, “don’t question my decisions. I told you, I’ll discuss it with Victor. If he agrees, I’ll send someone for you. That’s why I needed the tape, baby, to convince Victor that you are Institute material. We must be sure you’re ready. It’s not a hotel you can check in and out of. It’s a permanent commitment. No,” he said grimly, “I can’t risk it.”

“Please, Roger, risk it. Take a chance on me. You said I needed a few more sessions. I want to be a bird. I want to fly with you.”

“Listen, Harriet, I shouldn’t make promises, but I will. I’m grooved by your ability to open up, to rid yourself of poisons. I’ll tell that to Victor, which will certainly increase your chances of joining the Institute.”

I clasped my hands in front of me. “Oh thank you, Roger.”

“Relax.” Roger held my clasped hands. “Poor tired baby. You’ve worked hard tonight. You’ve earned your rest.” He lifted me off his lap and massaged his thighs. “You’re a lot of beautiful woman,” he said playfully.

I stood mutely in front of him, wondering if I could live through his departure. Roger, with his uncanny sensitivity, understood my problem.

“I made you a promise, Harriet. Trust in me, Your chances are excellent. Now, move. Your blood is going to coagulate. See if you can find my shirt. Henny Penny hung it up somewhere.”

It felt as though I had to push the room out of my way to walk. I found a rough white Mexican shirt hanging on the outside of the closet door.

“Is this it?”

“You’re a good girl,” he said, pulling it over his head. He shivered. “It’s cold in here. Aren’t you cold?”

“I think so.”

“Well, stop torturing yourself. Turn off the air conditioner.”

The air conditioner was an ancient affair, and I examined its mystifying knobs and buttons, uncertainty crawling up my spine. I frantically jerked the plug out of the wall and trotted back to Roger. He had resettled himself in the recliner and was struggling with a pair of suede boots. I sat on my heels and watched him.

“Roger, you do like me, don’t you?”

“Baby, I love you.” He stamped his foot into the boot.

It was what I expected to hear. “I know,” I said softly. Just as I had been battered by the waves of Roger’s fury, how I rested in the calm of his love.

He smiled at me, his face haggard over the immaculate white shirt. “Show me what a helpful and obedient girl you can be and wake up Henny Penny, but quietly, don’t disturb Clarissa.”

I wanted to prolong the intimate moment. I picked up my Marlboros. There was a single squashed but whole cigarette left.

“Don’t.” Roger took the cigarette from me and tore it into pieces. “Don’t smoke.” My lips tingled and my fingers twitched. There was nothing left to do but obey him.

Clarissa’s negligee and her boy friend’s bongo drums lay at the foot of their bed. I moved silently around them. Clarissa slept soundly in her musician’s arms, her head cradled on his thin shoulder. I couldn’t help but notice what a contented duo they made and thought how sweet it would be if they were buried that way, Together, in a shared coffin.

It was no easy matter to make the fine distinction between Henny Penny awake or asleep. Except for the reflexes of her puffy eyelids, her expression remained unchanged. She got up without a murmur, fully attired in her wrinkled Indian mini. She drifted around the room, dopey with sleep.

Roger was busy whispering into the telephone. I caught a few snatches of his conversation. “Heidi loves you, man,” and “Sure, I can handle Montreal,” and finally, “See you in about five hours.”

“Let’s get out of here,” he said to no one in particular.

“Aren’t you too tired for that long drive? Should I make you a cup of coffee?”

“Henny Penny will keep me awake.” He gave his faithful dwarf a tight smile. She was occupied with collecting their belongings, meticulously checking out the room. We spotted the tape at the same instant, and I beat her to it.

“Roger,” I breathlessly said, holding it out to him, “don’t forget the tape.”

He refused to receive it. “Give it to Henny Penny.”

“She won’t lose it or anything?” I felt a rush of distrust for the inscrutable mule. She was loaded down with a denim jacket and the heavy tape recorder and a canvas bag and a cowboy hat.

“You know,” I said timidly, “if I came along with you and waited in the car while you dropped it off for Victor, why we could go on to Montreal together. You wouldn’t believe me if I told you how deeply Canada fascinates me.”

Roger opened the door. We were all practically tiptoeing in order not to disturb Clarissa. “Don’t sweat it, Harriet. I said I’d send for you.”

“But when? You know I’ll be here only till the twenty-third. Did I mention that? After the twenty-third, I’ll be gone, who knows where? Paris? Prague? Rome?”

I was seized with uncertainty, my hysteria mounting to the sound of the elevator creaking slowly up to our floor. Roger kept his finger on the down button, impatiently watching the metal arrow. He spoke without looking at me.

“Don’t leave your room except when absolutely necessary. Don’t talk to strangers. And don’t,” he lowered his eyes and glared at me, “don’t under any circumstances discuss the Institute with anyone.”

It was gratifying to receive orders. My trust in Roger became complete. They stepped into the cubicle, and Roger took the cowboy hat from Henny Penny and put it on his head. His face disappeared under the wide brim.

“I won’t tell a soul,” I vowed, as the elevator doors slid between us, cutting off our goodbyes.

My cell looked as though an infuriated junkie had torn the place apart, in which case, I could only hope he had an allergy to tuna fish. I lay down on the disheveled cot, numb with fatigue. I opened a fresh pack of Marlboros and stared at the brown and white circles. I had no thoughts, only a dim awareness of myself listening and waiting.