Rodin's Debutante (30 page)

L
AURA AND LEE
arrived at their apartment in Hyde Park late on a sultry August afternoon. Laura ran off at once to visit her parents and tell them about Italy and the stormy voyages to and fro. Lee stowed their luggage in the bedroom and took a stroll in the neighborhood to stretch his legs. The day was sweltering, the temperature near one hundred degrees. He walked through empty streets to the dangerous neighborhood to assure himself that his studio was as he left it, and, aside from a family of mice in the closet, it was. He wondered about the empty streets and realized that of course everyone was at the lakefront. When he walked back to the apartment he thought to stop in at the liquor store to buy a bottle of Prosecco, a souvenir for Laura. The manager had none. He had never had a call for Prosecco. Italian, isn't it? Lee bought a bottle of scotch instead and returned to the apartment mildly let down. He wished he had bought a bottle of gin and some Schweppes and a fresh lime. The day was too warm for whiskey.

He made a drink and called his parents, retailing adventures in Italy, Naples and Rome and Florence. The museums, the galleries, the hotels, the food, the scenery. Lee said he had acquired a new outlook on things but what that outlook was he could not precisely say. Italians had a different way of life. Industriousness did not seem to play any part in it. But they were a cheerful and voluble people and had suffered greatly during the war. Alas, he and Laura had not seen any communist demonstrations and, truth to tell, revolution did not seem to be in the air. What was in the air? his father asked. Ardor, Lee said after a moment's pause. He had shot six rolls of photographs and when he had them developed he would send a few along, give you an idea of the look of things. Lee attempted to describe the encounter between the nun and the mime but the story did not hang together. I guess you had to have been there, he said at last. But aren't you happy to be home? his mother asked. Oh, yes, Lee said, Laura missed Hyde Park terribly. His mother rang off then. She had something on the stove. Please come see us as soon as you can, she said, and Lee replied that they would.

I'm glad you had a good time, his father said.

Is everything all right? Lee said. You sound subdued.

Remember last summer, Magda Serra and her mother were in New Jesper. They came to see me, not a productive conversation as I recall. Well, Magda's back. She insists on speaking to you and left a number.

She does?

She does. I'm afraid she was a little bit suspicious when I said you were about to leave on your honeymoon. She seemed to think I was keeping you from her. I said you would call her as soon as you got back and I gave her the date. I told her you went to Italy. I admit I was rushed, she called me in chambers while I was reading a difficult brief. I must say I did not care for her manner. She was curt. So it would be good if you called her right away. Will you do that?

Of course, Lee said.

I think she wants to talk about her life, his father said.

MAGDA AND LEE
agreed to meet at a restaurant on the harbor at New Jesper, a family-owned place that specialized in whitefish and lake perch. Magda's voice sounded thin on the telephone, watery, certainly not curt. Lee came up from Chicago on the train and walked the six blocks to the restaurant, Carl's Seafood, fishnets and creels hanging on the interior walls, and beyond the windows one ancient scow from Carl's fleet tied up at the pier. The bar was noisy with lawyers from the courthouse but the dining room was not crowded. Magda was seated alone at a table in the corner of the room and looked up when Lee approached. She was dressed in a white shirt and blue skirt, a scarab necklace at her throat, as if she were meeting a prospective employer. Magda's hair was freshly done.

Oh, Lee, she said. He took both her hands in his and they embraced awkwardly. Thanks so much for coming. She smiled tentatively and Lee saw few reminders of her childhood self. She had been heavy but now she was as his father had said, slender and self-possessed where she had been self-conscious, always eager to please. Magda had been a girl from the wrong side of the tracks and knew it and wanted somehow to make amends. He tried to remember the name of the boy she went to the movies with, the lawyer's son, but could not. He did remember his eyeglasses and clownishness and her apple cheeks and high giggle, but there was no sign of them now. Lee was uncomfortably aware that he knew much more of Magda Serra's life than she knew of his and that put her at a disadvantage. When she asked him about his honeymoon he told her about Laura, how they met, her attachment to Hyde Park and the university, her father's work as a professor of economics, her mother's career in law. Laura was on track to become a professor of philosophy. Magda listened quietly, asking no questions. Lee knew he had gone too far in one direction and not far enough in another, speaking to her as if reciting an entry from
Who's Who.
He lamely described his studio and the work he did there, his marbles.

She said, Where did you get the scar?

A rumble, he said. My studio is in a dangerous neighborhood.

No, really, she said. I want to know.

I stepped outside to have a smoke and two boys jumped me.

What happened to them?

You know Chicago. It was a crime filed and forgotten.

They went free?

They were never caught. They went away, came back, and that was that. Lee opened his mouth to tell her about the clinic and Topper but decided against it. Magda looked at him most intently and seemed disappointed when he said nothing further. Lee had always been reticent, with a manner older than his years. He was friendly but there was always something withheld. Also, he was part of the system and she wasn't. He'd said to her, You know Chicago. But she didn't know Chicago. She had been to Chicago only once, years before, when she was a little girl. Her mother took her to see the Christmas windows of Field's and Carson Pirie Scott, brilliantly decorated in red and green and white, all manner of gifts in the windows. They did not go into the stores. They had lunch at a cafeteria in the Loop and went to a movie and then they went home. Magda remembered the sidewalks crowded with beautifully dressed women carrying festive packages from the department stores.

Their whitefish arrived, french fries and coleslaw on the side, iced tea in frosted glasses.

And you, Magda. You've come back to New Jesper.

I had to, she said.

I don't understand, Lee said.

I'm not sure I do myself, said Magda. There's so much I don't understand. That awful day and everything that followed. I am here but I feel I am looking at a blackboard where everything is written in a foreign language. I can read nothing on it. Nothing is familiar. I'm sure you have no idea what I am talking about. She smiled and said, You were always so nice to me, Lee. Do you remember helping me with my math?

Yes, I do.

I never got numbers. I never understood them and still don't. Magda looked up to see if Lee was listening. She pushed the whitefish here and there on her plate and took a nervous sip of iced tea. You were always good with explanations, Lee. Sometimes I felt you should be teaching the class. I always felt outside of things at our school, as if I was on probation. I didn't know what was expected of me. I felt shunned. My mother was always working so I came home to an empty house. My father had left us, God knows where. My mother thought he left for Puerto Rico with a woman but she never knew for sure. I still don't know if he's living or dead. Isn't that something?

Magda, Lee said, I had no idea. I knew there was trouble at home—

You knew? How did you know?

People talked, Lee said.

They talked about my family? she said.

Everyone was upset, after, Lee said.

After? she said.

You were hurt, Lee said.

I wasn't aware anyone cared, Magda said. She was silent then. The dining room had begun to empty but the bar business was brisk. The waiter took away their plates and asked if they wanted dessert, and Magda shook her head and said, Coffee, and Lee said, Two. When the waiter went away, Lee said, You didn't like your whitefish.

I have no memory of that day, Magda said. None. I don't remember going to school in the morning and I don't remember my classes. I don't remember lunch. I don't remember where I was or what I was doing when I was—attacked. I don't remember him. I can remember a Christmas window of a department store on State Street when I was eight years old but I can't remember
this.
I have a friend who's told me it's better off gone, this memory, but I'm not so sure. I tried hypnosis without result, although I don't think the hypnotist was much good. Her specialty was more voodoo than hypnosis. My mother said I didn't speak for months. I think I slept most of the time. That whole period is a blur, including the weeks in the hospital, one operation after another, bright lights in my eyes. The masked faces of doctors. Pain. I was so ashamed.

I understand, Lee said.

No, Lee. You don't.

I'm sorry, he said. Stupid of me.

Tell me this. Have you ever been ashamed in your life?

He thought a moment and shrugged. Then he said, Yes.

Maybe men don't get ashamed, Magda said.

The waiter arrived with coffee and the check, placed carelessly at Lee's elbow.

I thought it was my fault, she said. I had done something, said something, I didn't know what. I had brought this terrible thing on myself, yet I had no memory of it. I knew what had happened to me because I looked at my own body. I was frightened. My mother told me later that no one came to see me in the hospital except a policeman who wanted to ask questions and when he saw I was unable to answer them, he went away and did not return. I wanted to die but was afraid I would. When you were cut, did it hurt badly?

Yes, he said.

Deep pain, she said.

Yes, he said again.

Magda nodded and was silent once again, sipping her coffee and staring off into the empty dining room. The bar crowd was gathered around the entrance, an expectant hush as they listened to a joke and when the punch line came, a blast of laughter. Magda dropped two lumps of sugar into her coffee, stirred the sugar, and waited.

Magda, I'm so sorry. What an ordeal.

I am trying to rid myself of a blank space. How do you do that?

I don't know, Magda.

You've never had one?

No, I never have.

That's why I came back to New Jesper. I had to talk to someone, and I chose you.

Lee leaned across the table and said, I'm glad you did. I wish I could be of some help. He waited a moment, looking around the dining room, which now seemed to him unspeakably oppressive. All this time he had been remembering the meeting of the Committee, his father, Alfred Swan, the police chief and the banker and Walter Bing and the others, worried about the report in the newspaper. Worried, as he remembered so clearly, about the equilibrium of the town, its reputation. Lee said, I'm wondering if you'd like to take a walk. I've not been back to New Jesper in years. Would you like that?

All right, she said. It's awfully hot, though.

We can finish our coffee, Lee said.

Magda seemed to blush and said, I don't want to meet anyone. I don't know what I'd say to them or they to me. Whatever it would be, I don't think I want to hear it. But everybody's probably forgotten. Do you suppose they have?

Lee thought a moment and said, Not everybody.

I suppose not, she said. She toyed with her napkin, then threw it down. I wish he were dead. I want him dead. It's unfair that he's not, that he's walking around free like anyone else. And I'm the only one who could accuse him. Only me. And my memory is gone. I'm no help at all.

Magda, Lee began, and her eyes widened and she seemed to shrink from the table. A voice behind him said, Lee? Lee Goodell? When he turned he saw Joel Dexter—that was his name, the lawyer's son, the boy who had movie dates with Magda when they were in school and the suspect who had been briefly detained by the police following the assault, though no one believed he had anything to do with it. The police chief refused even to speak his name. Joel looked now much as he did then, short of stature, overweight, heavy eyeglasses, and evidently still the class clown. He had been the one telling jokes. Lee rose and shook hands, and when Joel looked inquiringly at Magda, Lee turned to introduce them, as unnecessary as that would seem. But Magda spoke first.

Hello, Joel.

He was flustered and it was obvious he had not the least idea of who she was, this slender young woman dressed as if she had just come from an office somewhere. Magda was much changed since their schooldays.

It's Magda, she said.

My goodness, Joel said and took a step back. His hand flew to his mouth and the little fuzzy mustache, new-grown from the look of it. Joel said nothing more and Lee noticed a deep flush of—it was either fear or embarrassment, perhaps some of both, and something more besides. After a long moment, Joel said, I didn't recognize you. Gosh, let me catch my breath. What a surprise. You look very well, Magda.

With a ghost of a smile, Magda said, You haven't changed a bit, Joel.

Joel Dexter smiled crookedly, an attempt at charm. Lee had the idea he had drunk too much at lunch and that would be the normal thing for him, a martini before and one during and something to finish up. Joel said, How long have you been here, New Jesper? Are you back for good? It's been such a long time, you'll find our town's changed, and not for the better...

I'm only here on a visit, Magda said.

Dexter! someone called from the entrance. Get your ass in gear. We've got business at the office.

My law partner, Joel said apologetically. I have to go. It's good seeing you again, Magda. I remember the good times we had before ... And he did not finish the sentence, embarrassed again. He said, And you too, Lee. I've heard you're living in Chicago. I saw your father the other day at Probate, he looked well, all business as usual ... Joel reached into a pocket for his wallet, extracted a business card, and handed it to Magda. If there's anything I can do, please call me ... And with that he was gone, hurrying from the room and through the double doors with his law partner.