Moongate Kate Wilhelm

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his conversation with Farley, all of it, including Farley's explanation of his
rage. "It's possible," Sam said, then shook his head hard. "It's true I was
sore because you saw something I didn't. I can't explain that part. We both,
Farley and I, want to find out what happened."
"It's true then!" Victoria said, facing him finally. She was shockingly
pale.
Sam started to deny it, said instead, "I don't know."
"We have to go back there to find out, don't we?" She crossed the room
to him.
"You don't have to now," Sam said quickly. "I think it would be a
mistake. Wait until you're well."
"Thursday," she said. When Sam shook his head she added, "You know I
won't get well until this is over."
Color had returned to her cheeks and she looked almost normal again, as
she had always looked: quick, alert, handsome. And there was something else,
he thought. Something unfamiliar, an intensity, or determination she had not
shown before.
"Thursday," Sam said reluctantly.
* * * *
She had never been so talkative or said so little. Her new job, the people in
the office, the changing landscape, a grade school teacher, sleeping in the
parking lot, how easy driving the camper was ...
"Mimi says you're in analysis," Sam interrupted her.
"Not now," Victoria said easily. "She was more Freudian than the
master. Treated my experience like a dream and gave sexual connotations to
every bit of it. The thing in the valley became phallic, of course, so
naturally I had to dread -- it. Reuben was my father firmly forbidding my
incestuous advances, and so on. I took it for several weeks and gave up on
her. She needs help."
Too easy, Sam realized. She was too deep inside; all this was a glib
overlay she was hiding behind. After dinner, she took two pills.
"Something new?" Sam asked.
"Not really. I used them when Stuart and I were breaking up. They got
me through then."
"Bad dreams?"
"Not when I take these," she said too gaily, holding up the bottle of
pills. She had changed into short pajamas; now she pulled a book from her bag
and sat on her bed. "My system," she said cheerfully, "is to take two, read,
and in an hour if I'm still reading, take two more."
"That's dangerous."
"At home I keep them in the bathroom. If I'm too sleepy to get up and
get them, I don't need them. Foolproof. Hasn't failed me yet. Have you read
this?" She handed him the book.
"Stop it, Victoria. What are you doing?"
She retrieved the book and opened it. "It's pretty good. There's a
secondhand book store near the office..."
"Victoria, let me make love to you."
She smiled and shook her head.
"We used to be good together."
"Another time. I'm getting drowsy, floating almost. It's like a nice
not-too-high high once it starts."
"And you don't dream? How about nightmares? You were having three or
four a night last time I saw you. So bad you wouldn't even wake up from them."
She had become rigid as he spoke. She closed the book and let it drop
to the floor, then swung her legs off the bed.
"What are you doing?" He felt the beginnings of a headache: guilt and
shame for doing that to her, he knew.
"Water. More pills. Sometimes I don't have to wait an hour to know."
Presently she slept, deeply, like a person in a coma. She looked like a
sick child with her brown hair neatly arranged, the covers straight, as if her
mother or a nurse had only then finished preparing her for a visitor. He no
longer desired her. That rush of passion had been so sudden and unexpected, he
had been as surprised as she. He had not thought of her as a sexual partner
for months. Their sex had been good, but only because each had known the other
would make no further demands. It had been fun with her, he thought, again
with surprise because he had forgotten. It had been clean with her, no hidden
nuances to decipher; no flirtatious advance and retreat; no other boyfriends
to parade before him hoping for a show of jealousy. If they existed she was
reticent about them, as she was about everything personal. No involvement at
all, that had been the secret of their success.
He had planned to surrender the camper to Mimi and Diego, and share his
tent with Victoria, out of sight and sound of the others, with only the desert
and the brilliant moon growing fatter each night. Even that, showing her the
world he loved so much, would have been something freely given, freely taken,
with no ties afterward. They both had understood that, had wanted it that way.
He turned off the lights but was a long time in failing asleep. Toward
dawn he was awakened by Victoria's moaning. He put his denim jacket over the
lamp before he turned it on. She had the covers completely off and was
twisting back and forth in a rocking motion, making soft, incoherent sounds.
As he drew near to touch her, to interrupt her dream, she stiffened and he
knew she had slipped into a nightmare like the ones she had had before. The
first time he had shaken her, called her repeatedly, and after a long time she
had screamed and gone limp. After that he had simply held her until it was
over, held her and murmured her name over and over. She had not remembered any
of the nightmares. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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