by Norma Klein
I sobbed and sobbed while Daddy put his arms around me and said, “Don’t, darling, don’t.” Finally, when I was down to the sniffing stage, he said in a quiet voice, “Sweetie, look, obviously I don’t know Joshua that well . . . But I think it might be—You see, he has this special relationship with you which obviously means a lot to him, and it’s threatening and scary to him that now he’ll have to . . . share you with the rest of the world. I can understand that.”
“But he’s not sharing me,” I said. “He thinks I’m going to have stupid affairs with dumb men who are rich . . . but I’m not, Daddy! I don’t even want to.”
Daddy smiled. “Well . . . anyway, you know maybe this proves what I was trying to say the other day, Tat, that you’re a little too young for such an intense, exclusive relationship. You need to go out in the world with many different kinds of men or boys so that when you do make your final choice, it’ll be something lasting.”
“Why can’t I meet the right person now? Then I’d save all that trouble.”
Daddy was silent a minute. He kept stroking my hair. “Well, you could, darling, but the chances are that any choice you’d make now wouldn’t be something you could live with later on . . . just because you’re changing. You’re changing right this second. Six months from now you’ll be a different person and two years from now different again.”
“Because of the movie?”
“Partly, but not just that. Many things. Life is change. Nothing stays the same, neither things we want to nor things we don’t.” He sounded sad. I thought of the lyrics for this song in a musical I went to with Deel and Mom called I’m Getting My Act Together and Taking It on the Road:
Love is rare, life is strange
Nothing lasts, people change.
“I don’t know,” I said.
“Your life will have so many exciting, wonderful things in it, Tat,” Daddy said. “It’s all opening out in front of you. It’s not a sad thing, it’s a—”
“But doesn’t that bother you, things changing that way?”
Daddy twisted a strand of my hair around his finger. “Well, of course, there’s a part of me that wants to hang on to the past, naturally, that hates to see you grow up and change. But it’s also an exciting, wonderful thing for me to watch it happen. I felt so proud watching you yesterday.”
“Did you really?” I said, surprised.
“Of course . . . All those things you did.”
I smiled at him. “I’m glad, Daddy. I thought you were ashamed . . . especially with the nude scene.”
“No. Ashamed? How could I be? I feel like Joshua must—torn. I don’t want to share you. But I also feel like a proud parent wanting to go up to everyone and say: that’s my Tatiana.”
That made me feel so good. We sat there a few more minutes, not saying anything. “I feel better now,” I said. I looked at my watch. “I guess I better get going.”
I washed my face, got my knapsack and headed off for Abigail’s.
I’d never seen her apartment before. It turned out to be a walk-up. You had to walk up four flights of stairs. I was out of breath when I got to the top. There was some chamber music on in the background, the kind Daddy likes to listen to. It was just one big room, the living room, and then a smaller room in back for Kerim and a little garden off to one side, with an iron table and three chairs. It was kind of bare. Like in the living room there was mostly just a couch with a lot of pillows and one sort of old-looking chair. On the wall were lots and lots of photos.
“Hi,” Abigail said, letting me in. She was almost whispering. “Listen, you may be in terrific luck. He just fell asleep. He’s been going full steam all day and he just kind of dropped, literally, in the middle of the floor. I covered him with a blanket.”
“Will he wake up?” I asked, taking off my coat.
“Maybe. Sometimes he does and sometimes he doesn’t. If he does, play with him awhile, read, whatever he feels like. He might want some milk or something.” She put on her coat with the hood. “Tat, you were really impressive in the movie . . . I wanted to tell you. Lionel must be bursting with pride.”
“Thanks,” I said.
“I think it’s a good movie,” she said, judiciously. “Not a big money-maker, maybe, but I think it’ll go places.”
After she’d left, I sat down on the couch and took out this book I have to read for school, Rebecca. I read a little bit of it and then put it down. I kept thinking of everything Daddy said, especially the part about Joshua. I still don’t see why he couldn’t have been nice, I really don’t. It still makes me feel bad, no matter what the reason was. It’s not like I’m one of these people who has to have a boyfriend all the time and feels bad if she doesn’t. But, well, I thought there was more to our relationship than that. I lay down and covered myself with a blanket and started to fall asleep.
Suddenly the phone rang. It was in the kitchen. I went in to answer it. “Hello?”
“Oh, hi, Rust . . . Is that you?” It was Joshua.
“How’d you know I was here?”
“I called your house.”
“Oh.”
“Listen, Rust, I feel bad about last night.”
I felt like saying: you should! “Well . . .”
“Could I, like, come down there?”
“It’s in the Village. It’ll take you forty minutes.”
“That’s okay. I really want to. There’s a lot I want to say, about the movie and everything.”
I hesitated. “If all you want to do is fuck, we can’t because Kerim is here and he might wake up and I don’t want to anyway.”
“That’s not why I want to see you.”
“Okay.” I gave him the address.
I was afraid I might stop being mad at Joshua if he came down and acted nice so I sat there the whole forty minutes remembering how awful he was. When he rang the bell, I let him in but I didn’t smile or anything.
“Hi,” he said, obviously trying to be friendly.
I glared at him. “So, what’d you want to say?” I said, sitting back down on the couch.
Joshua cleared his throat. “Well, first, I wanted to say what I thought about the movie.”
“You thought it stank.”
“I didn’t . . . I think it’s quite a good movie. It’s funny, parts of it are well written, and I think you were really good.”
“Joshua, you know you make me so mad!” I turned away.
“Why?”
“Because you don’t think any of that. It’s a big lie. You just want to get back on my good side again. You’re just a total liar.”
“Rust, I would never lie to you about a movie.”
“You wouldn’t?”
“Never . . . what would be the point? Listen, I’ll tell you the truth. I expected it to be lousy, I expected you wouldn’t know your ass from your elbow. I was, well, pretty amazed.”
I stared at him. “Do you swear that’s true?”
He put up his hand. “I swear.”
“You really thought I was good?”
“Here’s what I thought.” Joshua frowned. “I think you can act. I mean you know how. You become the person. You didn’t act yourself. She was different from you.”
“How?”
“Well, you’re completely natural, she was kind of a tease. She played around with men—Warren, his father. She was the kind of girl who knew every second she was gorgeous and used it. She was a user. You’re not.”
I nodded. That was true. “That’s what I didn’t like about her.”
“But you see, that’s what was impressive. You could have just acted yourself, but it would have spoiled the movie. It was good that in the movie you feel ambivalent about her. She’s kind of a little brat in some ways. I feel sorry for Warren.”
“Yeah.” Joshua is so smart! I think he’s smarter than Deel or Daddy even, the way he can analyze everything.
“You didn’t try to make the audience like you. You didn’t play on their sympathies. You did a l
ot of really good stuff.”
“Thank you,” I said formally.
“Now you did some bad stuff, too,” he said.
“I did?”
“Yeah, well, maybe not bad, but . . . You didn’t always play to the other actors. Like Serena, whether she was talking or not, she was acting. You, when you weren’t talking, just kind of stood there like you were thinking: I wonder if I got eighty-five on my math test. You, like, weren’t there.”
“Oh.” I felt bad. Charlie said that to me a few times.”
“Some of the actors fed you stuff and you didn’t pick up on it. Like Marone. He tried to set stuff up with you and you kind of glided past him, like he wasn’t there.”
“Yeah, well.” I looked sideways at him. “What’d you think of the nude scene? Did you think it was in good taste?”
Joshua looked solemn. “It had socially redeeming value,” he said.
I looked at him to see if he was joking.
“Rust, your ass definitely has socially redeeming value. It does. It’s an uplifting sight. It gives one the courage to go on.”
I socked him. “Joshua!”
“And your tits . . . Well, one sight of them and anyone in their right mind is ready to go out and lead the revolution.”
Joshua can always make me laugh. The trouble is, then I can’t stay mad at him. “So, why’d you act like such a jerk at the party?”
He held up a finger. “One, because I always feel uncomfortable at parties; two, because I didn’t feel like I could sit down and have a real talk with you like we’re doing now; and three, because I felt sick when that handsome guy came over and began coming on to you.”
“He wasn’t handsome. He was gross.”
“He was handsome . . . And I thought of all the thousands of men like that who are going to start coming on to you once it opens and, well—”
I leaned over and put my arms around him. “I love you,” I said.
“I’m a scruffy sixteen-year-old kid.”
“You’re not scruffy.”
“I can’t even give you an orgasm. I just pounce on you—”
“You don’t, Joshua. You do everything right. You’re terrific. It’s me. I’m just uptight or something.”
“I bet that guy would have had you coming all over the place in three seconds.”
“Well, he’ll never have the chance.” I was silent a second. “But, Josh, would you tell me something?”
“Sure.”
“If we didn’t have sex, would you still see me?”
He looked at me, puzzled. “Why, don’t you want to anymore?”
“No, it’s not that, but I don’t want to think you see me just to, you know, fuck.”
“I don’t, Rust . . . really. Whatever gave you that idea?” But he was smiling.
“Well, it seems like it’s on your mind fairly often.”
“Look, Rust, I mean, you’re beautiful and sexy and I’m at my hormonal peak and all that, so it’s hard for me not to think about it when I’m with you. But we don’t have to do it so much if you don’t want.” He looked sad at the prospect.
“I just don’t want to think that’s the only thing you like about me.”
“It isn’t . . . Listen, I think you’re a sensitive, terrific person.”
“Really?”
“Definitely.”
“But I can’t write poetry like Pam.”
“True . . . Well I can’t ride a horse like Robert Redford.”
I laughed. “I think you’re a sensitive, terrific person,” I said, lying down in his arms.
He shrugged, snuggling up next to me. “Well, I am. What can I say. It’s immodest to admit, but—”
I began kissing him. “I guess I wouldn’t have liked it if you’d been in a movie and been in a nude scene.”
“The women in the audience would have been screaming,” Joshua said, slipping his hand under my shirt to my breasts. “They would have gone wild.”
“Josh . . . I’m afraid Kerim will wake up.”
“No, he’s out cold for the night.”
“How do you know?” I was beginning to feel fuzzy.
“I’m psychic. Umm, oh, Rust.” Joshua was making that crooning sound he does when he strokes my body. He stood up and took his clothes off. I wasn’t worried about Abigail coming back so soon; it was only ten thirty. I took his penis in my mouth and sucked on it for a while. He really likes it when I do that. I’m never sure if I do it the right way, but whatever way I do it, he likes it a lot. I don’t think I’d like it if he came in my mouth, though. He says he won’t.
Fucking with him was nice. He really tried to go slow and he was really tender and caring. I love Joshua. I do. I don’t care if I’m too young. The point is, what if you meet the most terrific person in the world and you happen to be fourteen? Does that mean you should give them up and look around at other people? That doesn’t make sense to me.
When we were done, we got dressed, just in case, and then snuggled up under the blanket again. “Rust?”
“Yeah?”
“Did you ask them yet?”
“Ask who what?”
“Well, you said you were going to ask your parents to get you a diaphragm for Christmas.”
“Oh right . . . I will.”
“Do you think they’ll get it for you?”
“Well, they should . . . they got one for Deel.”
“But she was older . . . and they knew she’d never use it.”
“She may use it eventually.”
“I think it would be really good,” Joshua said. “Tommy said his girl friend has one and he says it makes a big difference.”
“Which one? I thought he has around nine million girl friends.”
“That blond one, the one who’s a waitress in New Haven who had a kid when she was sixteen.”
“Oh right . . . Well, I guess she doesn’t want that to happen again.”
“It can’t.”
“How come?”
“She’s eighteen now.”
“What does he say is so good about it?”
“Well, he says it just feels better. I mean, you don’t feel it. You just put it in and forget about it.”
“I’d be afraid I wasn’t putting it in right.”
“I’ll help you.”
“I wish it was easier. I wish fucking and getting pregnant weren’t connected in any way.”
“Yeah, well . . .”
“I wonder who thought of connecting them?”
“God . . . No, I don’t know. It wasn’t like a person sat down and thought of it.”
“But do you see what I mean? How it would be better if they didn’t have anything to do with each other so you wouldn’t have to worry.”
“If you get a diaphragm, you won’t have to worry.”
“I mean, I’d like to have children eventually,” I said, “but like not for ten years maybe.”
“I think we should have four kids,” Joshua said. “Two will be redheads and two will be dark.”
“But will you help me with everything, like giving them bottles and changing diapers? You won’t just go off and leave me with all that?”
“Never . . . what do you take me for?”
“You might be off making movies.”
“You might too.”
I shook my head. “I think I’m going to be an obstetrician, actually.”
“Really? How come?”
“I don’t know. I just think I might like it.”
“You’d have to go to medical school and all that.”
“So?”
“You’d have to dissect corpses.”
“I know.”
Joshua is extremely squeamish about things like that. He told me he almost fainted in Biology when they had to dissect a frog. His partner did most of it. I guess he’s just a very sensitive person. I think I’m sensitive too, but doing things like dissecting frogs doesn’t bother me so much.
“You’d have to deliver babies,” h
e said.
I smiled. “I know. That’s the part I think I’d really like.”
Joshua looked a little sick. “But they come out all slimy with stuff all over them, blood and—”
“Yeah, but they almost always survive and everybody is so happy. It must be a terrific feeling to make people happy that way.”
“I guess.” He didn’t look convinced.
“That’s why you want to make movies, isn’t it?” I said, rubbing his belly button with my nose. “To make people happy?”
Joshua shook his head. “No . . . Why should I want to make people happy?”
“Well, you don’t want to make them sad, do you?”
“Sure. I want to make them sad, I want to make them think about things they never thought of.”
“Yeah.” I think I sort of know what he means.
After that we had hot cocoa and navel oranges and listened to music on Abigail’s radio. She came home at one thirty. Charlie was with her. I was surprised. I didn’t know they went out on dates together.
“Greetings, fair Tatiana!” Charlie said. He turned to Abigail. “See, she’s even radiant at one in the morning.”
“I know,” Abigail said. “It’s not fair.”
“And this, if I’m not mistaken,” Charlie said, seeing Joshua, “is the splendid young man who is going to make monkeys of us all.”
Joshua looked at him, puzzled.
“Aren’t you the future Ingmar Bergman?” Charlie said. “I thought—”
“Tat, what do I owe you?” Abigail said.
I figured it out. “Better take a cab,” she said, handing me the money. “It’s starting to snow.”
Charlie was already lying back, lounging on the couch. Joshua and I had fixed it up. I don’t think you could tell we’d been fucking on it. “Farewell, my beauty,” he said, waving at me languidly. “See you on the fifteenth.”
Outside on the street we looked around for a cab. It was snowing lightly. “Do you think he’s a good director?” I asked Joshua.
“Fair . . .”
“As good as Daddy?”
“Well, your father’s never done a feature.”
“Do you think he’d be good if he did?”
“It’s hard to tell . . . Does he want to?”
“Yeah, I think so. He almost did once, but it fell through.”
