Arc of the Comet

by Greg Fields

  “Where is he now?”

  “Washington, working for a senator. He couldn’t be more involved with this ’sad species,’ to use your phrasing.”

  “Then he is bound to compromise that wonderfully intuitive mind to expediency. Perhaps he already has. In any event, the demands of his job and his lifestyle will catch up to him, and then his personality will begin to change. He’ll be drawn into the mediocrity he’s so far been able to rise above. Then what will all his practical knowledge avail him? Don’t you see, he was able to do all those wonderful things you mentioned and he was able to develop that unique character simply because of the isolated environment you both enjoyed for four years. When he steps outside it, he loses its protection. He becomes increasingly ambitious, materialistic, and ultimately jaded. It’s unavoidable, I’m sorry to say. It’s the forfeiture of the intellect to a cold-blooded pragmatism that’s necessarily imposed upon him. Excuse me, you two. I’ve drained my wine. I’m off to get another.” Owen Lee turned abruptly, not waiting for response, and ducked into the bowels of the kitchen.

  “Your friend has the smugness of his convictions,” said McIlweath to the tall, dark-haired, bearded fellow who had stood silently throughout the entire exchange. “That’s an admirable trait in small doses.”

  “Not at all. Owen’s a bloody pain in the ass. He’s a complacent bastard, but he can give a good laugh sometimes.” The other spoke in the crisp, flat accent of Australia.

  McIlweath cocked his head. “Where are you from, Kieran? I didn’t notice your accent before.”

  “That’s because I kept my stupid mouth shut. I know better than to tilt with that pedantic bastard. Rockhampton, Australia, a town up the coast north of Brisbane. Bloody remote outpost near the Great Barrier Reef. No doubt you’ll ask what I’m doing here, so I’ll tell you. A government fellowship to one of your country’s finest, which I took on the presumption that it would be a two-year vacation with a degree at the end. I was wrong, though. The bastards have put me to work,” and he laughed. “Serious studies they expect. Plus no one told me how blessed cold it gets here. I’ve been freezing my balls off.”

  “It must be an adjustment then. A cold adjustment. You must get lonely.”

  “Not really. Well, I take that back. I do miss my family. But the crew here is a decent lot, and there’s plenty to do. I must confess that I favor your view of the scholarly life much more than I do our friend’s. You’re much more realistic. The thought of living the rest of my life with a bunch of dead boring political science books is too grim for words. I’d be envious of your friend, too. I’ve set my sights on government work as well, once I get back home. Some civil service post in the State Department might fit me well.”

  “What are your prospects?” McIlweath hissed, and Mulrooney burst out laughing.

  “Very good, I should think. The government’s already picking up the bill for this little excursion. I’d think they’d want some return on their investment. I’m focusing on American foreign policy. The State Department back home might find my views useful when they have to deal with you Yanks down the road. That’s what I’m counting on.”

  “Any problems adjusting to the States?”

  “An unqualified no. It’s all a matter of being resilient, and that’s expected of us no matter where we go. I mean, if I’d gone off to Canberra I’d have been called upon to make as many adjustments in thought and action as I did in coming here. In fact, it’s easier here. People see you’re a foreigner and they have much lower expectations. They’re ready to dismiss your transgressions, but if you’re a known quantity they’ll hold you accountable. I must say I’ve enjoyed that. I could go punch Joel in the gob if I wanted and explain that it’s an Aussie custom to smack the host before you leave. People would just nod and say how quaint it all was.

  “I suppose,” he continued, “that that’s a bit overstated, but you see my point. We all have to make a break sometime. Whether that break takes us across the street or across the sea is immaterial. Ultimately you’re left on your own. That’s how I look at it.”

  McIlweath nodded. Before he could reply, a freckled blonde, strikingly attractive, came up to join them. Her hair curled under her ears to the sides of her delicate neck whose slender length made her appear taller than she actually was. Her sweater and jeans fit tightly enough to show a firm, thin body with high breasts and narrow hips. Her hair hung casually over her forehead covering her eyebrows but stopping above her translucent, crystal blue eyes. Freckles lined her cheeks, chin and the blade of her nose. She radiated health, confidence and place, a sense that she belonged well wherever she found herself. Her mouth, small with reedlike lips, fixed itself in a smile.

  “One thing, Tom, that’s made the transition palatable is the gorgeous females you have here. This is one of them,” and Mulrooney leaned down to kiss the girl on the cheek. She laughed and kissed him back. “Kathy, I’ve been making a new friend. This is Tom McIlweath. Tom, Kathy Keane, a lass after whom I’ve lusted wildly these several months.”

  “Ignore him, Tom,” she said with a throaty laugh. “He’d have you believe he’s quite the ladies’ man.”

  “Well, I am, aren’t I? My accent and polished good looks should entitle me to something with you birds, shouldn’t it? I’m only asking for my fair share.”

  “Kieran, you’re horrible. Are all Australians governed by their libidos? Anyway, I’m interested in talking to this mysterious stranger that I’ve never seen before. Be a dear and get us some more beer while we get acquainted.” She shook her empty bottle at Mulrooney, who bowed from the waist, took it, then grabbed McIlweath’s too before he disappeared into the kitchen.

  “He’s a sweetheart,” said Kathy. McIlweath perceived that she had already had a fair amount to drink. She seemed completely relaxed. Or perhaps it was just a casually relaxed personality, the kind McIlweath saw too little of these days.

  Almost instantly Mulrooney returned with their new beers, stayed with them a few minutes more, then moved on. “Some more folks here I want to check in with. Tom, give me a call sometime. We’ll get together for a meal or a drink, hey? This place does get frightfully dull. I’d be glad for the new company. My number’s in the directory. But then I’ll see you in the library, I’m sure. Good luck,” and McIlweath was left alone with Kathy.

  The beer worked to put him at ease, and he felt none of the tongue-tied shyness that usually plagued him in conversations with attractive young women. His confidence rose like a thermometer in the direct sunlight of Kathy’s relaxed demeanor. And, my God, she was purely beautiful.

  They stood and talked at length, the flow of their conversation undulating between the serious and the silly. No one disturbed them, and McIlweath thought it peculiar that none of the people around them should try to break in on their discussion. They both finished their beers, then each got another, then another. McIlweath knew that he had crossed the line of intoxication and was moving progressively deeper into that rare territory. He felt terrific.

  “So you’re a competitive swimmer. I’m impressed.” McIlweath had been regarding the gentle curves of Kathy’s face. He was not certain how they had moved to this topic. “I swim, too. Three times a week. It’s about the only exercise I get.”

  “I’m surprised I haven’t seen you at the pool. I go there as often as I can, whenever I want to drop everything and feel good about myself again.”

  “Oh, now,” she cooed, “do I detect a note of self-pity? What is it that makes you feel bad? About yourself, I mean.”

  “The fact that I’m here. The fact that I’m doing what I’m doing, which strikes me as hopelessly meaningless.”

  “Why?” Kathy became serious. “Didn’t you choose all this for yourself?”

  “Yes, but I chose it under different terms. As an undergraduate, things were more diverse. By contrast with my other studies, Classics excited me to the core. It still could, I suppose. My argument isn’t with the discipline as much as how I have to approac
h it here. And the way of life. We’re dead here, only we don’t know it.”

  “You’re lonely, Tom. Forgive my saying so, but there’s something in you that seems so damn hollow. I hardly know you, so maybe I’m being presumptuous, but what you’ve said, what you’ve been saying all night, points me to loneliness. Hell, we’re all lonely here, in one way or another. But, am I right?”

  “Yes, I am lonely, and because I don’t have enough self-confidence to assume responsibility for my current state, or so I’ve been told, I blame it on my environment. The fact is, I’ve met few people here I’d care to share my time with, and even fewer who are inclined to drag themselves away from their own studies to develop anything close to a friendship. I’m stranded, like a hermit.”

  “Joel’s parties are the cure for that. He brings people together with no expectations other than to be yourself, to relax and to forget about any stresses of the moment. There are good people here, but it’s sometimes hard to find them. Joel is something of a social guru. But, you have no one here in Boston you’d consider a friend?”

  McIlweath drew his lips into a sardonic smile, then drank his beer. “Actually, the reason I’m here at all is a woman. I came to Boston to be close to her. She’s at Harvard Med. The irony is that I rarely see her now, and when I do, I leave more unsatisfied than ever.”

  “You sound bitter.”

  “I don’t know what I am.” McIlweath with a start remembered the time. He glanced at his watch: 10:06.

  “What’s wrong? Do you have to leave?”

  “I’m supposed to meet her for a late dinner. We were going to talk, although she might not know that. You know, this may sound bold, but I’ve had a richer conversation with you tonight than I’ve had with her in months.”

  Kathy smiled. “That is bold. I’m flattered.”

  “I mean it. She’s so remote. All her life she’s driven herself, step by step, to her goals. That’s all I’ve been to her: another goal. A convenience to keep her company when she needs it and then only on her terms. There’s precious little emotion there. She hides it well, and she’s dismissed passion altogether. I’m a logical conclusion. A syllogism, nothing more.”

  “Why have you stayed with her?”

  “Expectations. Besides, what else have I had?”

  “Anything you would have wanted, I would guess. You seem to have a lot to offer.”

  “I’ve never thought so. I stayed with Anne because she was secure, even if cold. She did fulfill some of what I needed, too.”

  “Not enough, though. That’s obvious. Anyway, you have to go meet her.”

  “No. I’ve given up enough of myself for her fancies. I’d rather stay here and drink some more.”

  “Are you sure? Insecurity can be a fierce thing, you know. And you already have a lot invested.”

  “But at minimal dividends. It’s past time to reevaluate it all. I was going to do that tonight with her. But I can do it just as well without her, and it’s far more pleasant.”

  “I feel fortunate that I’ve never been in a relationship like that. All my entanglements have been much simpler. I’ve never come close to being in love, and I’m thankful for it.”

  “Why thankful?”

  “Too complicated. At this stage of my life nothing is settled. I want a career, I know that. I want to be an editor and I’ll do anything I can to reach that particular goal. A man would be a distraction. There’ll be plenty of time once I get where I’m going. But getting there is the thing. Do you know how many English grad students want to be Maxwell Perkins or Henry Luce?”

  “Do I detect a hint of competitiveness?”

  “I see what I want and I go after it. I’m willing to work my way up from the bottom, and I don’t feel the need to steamroll anyone along the way. But I want the eventual prize.”

  “Does that apply to things other than your career?”

  “It applies, my love, to everything,” and she ran her arm around McIlweath’s shoulder and kissed his ear. She was now drunk enough so that when she leaned toward him she tottered. Her hand fumbled for the collar of McIlweath’s shirt, missed, then tried again. She held onto him there. McIlweath, aroused, slipped his arm around her waist. The flesh beneath the sweater was tight, firm, smoothly molded.

  “Get me another beer,” she purred. McIlweath unwrapped himself from her with some effort, for he, too, was drunk. He had eaten nothing; the beer had gone straight to his head. He wobbled into the kitchen, grabbed two full bottles and headed back to Kathy. The kitchen clock read 10:15. There would be hell to pay when next he saw Anne, but, really, how would that be any different from what was likely to occur tonight? Hell takes diverse forms, and breathes ice as well as fire.

  Kathy Keane, he learned, had been born and raised in the Midwest—born in Missouri, raised in Springfield, Illinois. “We used to go to Lincoln’s tomb to make out when we were in high school. There are so many hidden places there. Imagine, grasping a boy’s penis in sight of the remains of The Great Emancipator.”

  She had grown up self-assured, intelligent, quick, witty and uncommonly attractive. Kathy had, in fact, made a name for herself amid the thousands of anonymous undergraduates at the University of Illinois. She captained the girls’ tennis team, earned national debating honors and graduated magna. Professors came to know that if Kathy were in their class, the entire term would be a series of probing, pointed questions, complex constructions and animated disagreement. Kathy Keane was intimidated by neither age nor wisdom; she spoke her mind. Some professors actively sought her out for their courses. Many saw her name on their rosters at the beginning of a term and groaned. “She never lets you relax,” complained one in a letter of recommendation she had chanced to glimpse. “That’s a terrible burden for a man of tenure.”

  Upon graduation, she headed east because that was where the publishing jobs were. She would go to the best graduate school, make the proper contacts and get a degree that meant something. From there she was confident that those contacts would pay off with an offer of a nonprestigious job at a prestigious publishing house. Once her foot was in the door, she had no doubt that she could make the right people notice her considerable talents.

  Joel’s party this evening was not her first. “Grad school is unbelievably dull, isn’t it? You become so grateful for even the slightest diversion, even if it’s something you might not actually even want to do.” She barely knew Joel and, like McIlweath, had no idea of his last name.

  “Why have you spent your entire evening speaking with me?” asked McIlweath. “There are far more attractive men here who must be better conversationalists (his drunken mouth stumbled badly over this word) than me.”

  “Don’t sell yourself short, my friend. You intrigue me. You looked a bit lost. Not forlorn or marooned, mind you, but somewhat bewildered. Especially when you were talking with that pompous idiot—what’s his name? Olin? Who cares? I heard everything. God, he’s awful, but grad school’s loaded with that type. So stuck on themselves, capable only of justifying what they do through these silly rationalizations. That’s really all they’re capable of. Then when you were talking with Kieran you seemed like a decent person. You wanted to know him, so I thought I might try to know you. And, yes, there are more ’attractive’ men here, but I don’t like dealing with their cheap charms. I didn’t feel like being asked to go to bed by someone shallow or smug.”

  “So I looked safe?” said McIlweath with a smile.

  “You looked lonely. Besides, you’re new. And you’re a swimmer, and you read dead languages, and you’re from California, which I’ve never seen, and you have a bitchy lover who keeps you for a pet. All that intrigues me.”

  “Of course, you didn’t know any of this when you first came up to me.”

  “No, but if I weren’t intrigued I would have left you and you’d have gone off to your bitch.”

  McIlweath saw the time on the far clock. It was a quarter to midnight. Anne by now would be seething. She probably would ha
ve called and grown angrier with each unanswered ring. ’It would never occur to her to be worried about me,’ he thought. ’I could be lying in a hospital, but all she’ll think about is her lack of a dinner and the insult of being stood up when I’ve always been as punctual as a full moon. Let her seethe.’

  “I’ll deal with her in due time. And please don’t call her a bitch. She has some wonderful qualities.”

  “Which she keeps hidden and dusts off only when absolutely necessary. I know the type. You’re much better off with me tonight.”

  “You two still at it?” boomed Kieran Mulrooney loudly as he came up behind them. “Jesus Christ, Tom, give some of us other horny blokes a chance, won’t you? You can’t show up a stranger and monopolize the most delicious girl in the place all night. It isn’t proper.” Kieran threw his arms around both of them and draped himself between them.

  “I should think you two would be well enough acquainted by now. How about some affection, love?” He leaned his head toward Kathy who, with a giggle, kissed him quickly on the lips. “Oh now, what’s this? We’ve done better than that.”

  “So we have,” she responded, “but you’re old news. I’ve found someone fresh tonight.”

  “Come on, Kath. I’m as fresh as there is. You know that.”