Casual Choices

by Tom Corbett

  “Coming where?” Josh sounded confused.

  “Coming here, you idiot. I take back that thing about you not looking stupid. He wants to see you again.”

  “But what…how? What the hell is going on? Why didn’t he call me?”

  Rachel looked a bit abashed. Why did she wait so long to tell him? Then she knew; she wanted to see how she and her brother would fare before springing any surprises. In fact, she felt rather embarrassed that his old friend had been in touch with her for some time. She should have mentioned it way earlier than this. “Peter reached out to me after it was apparent you were gone for the duration. Even though he had been in touch with you, he worried about you going underground. He cared about you and thought I could be a conduit to you if you disappeared.”

  “Or use you to nail my ass when they had enough evidence,” he said the words in a matter-of-fact way.

  “Never considered that, good thing I never tried to be a spy. Anyways, Peter and I have stayed in touch and I would share what I knew about what was going on. He never stopped caring about you.”

  “Hmmm,” Josh growled. “After he joined the bureau, he did get in touch a few times. Whatever his motives, the bottom line is that he was involved in my situation, officially. I could never be sure, but he might have been protecting me, at least until something awful surfaced about my so-called revolutionary activities. I was never sure.”

  “No matter,” Rachel tried to assume control. “I called him and told him you were dying to have him join us for the retirement.”

  “But I didn’t want anyone—” Josh tried to protest.

  “I wanted him here, so shush.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He knew not to argue.

  “By the way, he’s bringing someone.”

  “Who?” Josh asked. “His wife?”

  “I don’t know, but someone he thought you would like to see.”

  “Hmm, so not his spouse. I never met her. Maybe Sarah,” Josh speculated.

  “Who?” Rachel queried.

  “Oh, Sarah was a college flame, before Eleni. I liked her, and Peter knew her from those days. She also knows I’m retiring. She tracked me down through Facebook a while back.”

  “Well, stop the presses, you liked a girl! Will wonders never cease.”

  “Hold on, you would have liked her as well. Sarah was attractive and smart, not only real bright but focused. She actually studied while I got by on my charm and wit.” Rachel guffawed but said nothing. “Best of all, she was engaged to someone else at another school three states away. So I was a perfect proxy. Can’t be near the one you love, love the one you’re near, and all that. We studied together, had great sex. But we drifted apart just a bit when I got deeper into the political stuff. Not so much drift apart as I had less time. And then Eleni came along, and I know Peter is not bringing her. I can’t think of who else it could be.”

  “I don’t know who it is, he was pretty coy about it. He did say he didn’t want to say anything more because it was not a done deal yet.”

  “Well, as long as we are filling in the dance list, Usha is coming as well and without her partner.”

  “That’s nice,” Rachel responded. “You sound surprised. She was, after all, a big part of your life.”

  “I am,” he said with a slightly raised brow. “In fact, I’m outright puzzled that she is coming and coming alone.”

  “Maybe she finally realizes the gem she had in you,” Rachel said, laughing as if that prospect was absurd on the face of it.

  “Everyone is a comedian. Still, this whole thing is getting out of hand. I expected a typical retirement event. You know, a couple of dinners and a boring final party with the usual speeches about what an amazing human being I am and some adulation about my contributions to posterity. Now it is turning into Jeremiah Joshua Connelly, this is your life. Remember that show?”

  Rachel smiled; she could barely recall a TV show by that name. “Hmmm, let’s consider your contributions to posterity…that would take at least thirty seconds…” Her joke was cut short by another phone call from Madison. No matter how much she tried, her professional responsibilities always caught up to her. She might complain outwardly but secretly was thrilled. She invited this sense of dependence on her. Her colleagues could handle these matters, but she had trouble giving up control. They often called in anticipation of her anger if they did not. When she finished, she looked up at him. “It could be Eleni. Maybe Peter is bringing Eleni. That would be something.”

  “Yeah, it would more than a surprise.”

  “What,” she asked, seeing something in his expression.

  “Nothing, but Peter did not know her well, she was my secret.” The food and drinks arrived. “After a few moments of silence, Josh started up again. “I can’t believe this…freaking amazing.”

  “What, I think the fare here is overrated, but the ambiance is nice, thank you.”

  “No, no,” he said. “I really don’t share much. I’m a private person, really I am.”

  “I’m not arguing, I’ve learned more about you in two days than I did in four decades.”

  He looked perplexed. “This just feels like someone turned on a spigot, all this stuff coming out of my mouth. Could it be that I like sharing stuff with you? No, that is unlikely. Maybe it is that I have been stuffed in too much inside all these years.”

  She reached out and put a hand on his. “No shit, Sherlock. Listen, when I came here a few days early, I didn’t know what to expect. I had hopes but…hell, maybe you would give me a local tourist guide and tell me to enjoy myself. But this…this has been, I don’t know…”

  “A surprise.” He smiled.

  “More than that,” Rachel insisted. “This is becoming a revelation. I thought I had lost you, forever. A few times since I’ve been here, I have had this feeling—God, you will hate this—that we are being reintroduced. I…want that.”

  “You know the best moment so far?”

  “Tell me,” Rachel pushed.

  “That first morning when you ran after me when I was taking Morris for his walk. It was such a déjà vu moment.”

  “Really?” She seemed surprised.

  “Absolutely.” He smiled. “Once again, you were this obnoxious ten-year- old pest always running after me. Really, you always caught up to me no matter how quietly I snuck out of the house. Did you have some advanced GPS tracking back then? I just could never shake you.”

  She picked up a piece of bread roll and launched it at his head. The missile bounced off his forehead and onto the floor. Several nearby patrons looked quizzically but realized that the two apparent combatants were smiling. No real drama here.

  Later, they were back on the ferry, standing at the rail. Rachel entwined her arm in his.

  “Careful,” Josh warned. “People will think we get along.”

  “Not to worry,” she responded. “All will be clear to them when I push you overboard.”

  “I remember the first time I saw Eleni. Well, not the situation or location exactly, but my response. She walked into a room, maybe it was a classroom or a social event, not sure, really. But I looked at her lithe body, her longish black hair, deer-in-the-headlights eyes, soft lips, and inviting smile, and it was over. I knew immediately that this was the one. I knew it with a certainty that my response would be forever.”

  “Oh my god, you’re sounding like a Hallmark card again, you could not possibly have known then.” Her countenance suggested incredulity.

  “Says Ms. Romance herself.”

  “Fair enough, but all you experienced was a rush of dopamine, which is what makes one dopey. And believe me,” she smiled, “you need no help whatsoever to be dopey.”

  “I know, I know, this defies everything I am—Mr. Cool and the rational ultra-detached guy. But it happened. And as I got to know her a bit, the attraction became even more intense if that were possible. It was this incredible balance of things. She was very bright but humble, innocent but with a sharp wit, attrac
tive but absent any vanity. She could go one-on-one with me, make me think, keep me on my toes. When she looked at me with those big eyes, I collapsed inside. It was devastating. I loved her deeply. And you know what, I never slept with her—well, once but no actual sex. She was the innocent, and I didn’t have to go there to figure out my feelings, there was no need.”

  Several humorous responses had occurred to Rachel, but she realized this was not the time. “Why did you leave her behind? How could you leave someone like that behind? Somehow, I really feel I’m not getting the whole story, am I.”

  He just looked toward the ferry port at Vancouver as it approached. “I left her behind because I did not want to drag her into my exile. That did not seem fair. And I’ve regretted that every day of my life.”

  Rachel finally responded. “I understand, I think. You know, you’re still on probation with me. I still might whack you upside the head.”

  He smiled but kept his focus on the distant port. Rachel joined his distant gaze. She sensed that this was all she would get right now. But she was struck with how much alike they were. Neither had found love, or at least could not keep ahold of it once in hand. It was as if both were adrift. But she was with him, at least in the moment. She held on to him even tighter.

  CHAPTER 6

  DAY 3 EVENING

  Josh had a surprised look on his face. “Wow, I’ve been thinking about the good old college days since we got back from Victoria. What’s happening to me?”

  “Finally, a few signs that you are becoming a human being. Should I nip this affliction in the bud? Otherwise, it might take over all of you. Perhaps it is time for me to perform a humanectomy,” Rachel said with a smile.

  “And you’re just the sawbones to do it. I would bet you have emasculated many a poor lad in your time.”

  “Only for the deserving which, it turns out, were most of them now that I think on it.” Rachel swept into Josh’s office and sat on an old couch opposite his desk. She was wearing an old tattered robe.

  “Where did you find that relic?” Josh asked with a half-smile.

  “In the closet in your guest room. Left by one of your exotic working girls I assume?”

  “No, they dressed very well to be sure, and I prefer to think of them as professional services providers.”

  “Blah, blah, blah, can I join you?”

  “Sure, I’m about finished with these papers—yeah, final grades.”

  “Forever?”

  “Hell no,” he asserted. “They will drag me back to teach some courses for sure. Academics don’t want to teach anymore. On the other hand, I rather enjoyed it. In the classroom, someone finally listened to me, if only for a grade. The powers that be will be begging me to teach.”

  “Wow, reeking of desperation, are they? And never fear, I would listen to you. I am always looking for a good laugh.” She wore her wickedest smile.

  Josh got up and made them drinks, wine for Rachel and something stronger for himself. She also had been working at her laptop that evening but now was ready to pick up the conversation. As he went about his task, she looked carefully around the room. It was an academic man cave, books and papers everywhere with no semblance of order. You could barely see the floor. Only his swivel chair and the couch offered a place of sanctuary. He sometimes would sleep on that couch after working late into the night. His bed seemed too far away.

  “You need an organizational scheme,” Rachel observed.

  “I need a match,” he responded. “Still, I can usually find what I want. I’m like an archeologist. I have a general idea what lies at each layer of detritus.”

  “Yeah, sure. Now tell me more about those happy school days of yours?” She asked her question without conviction. Too pushy, she wondered.

  “Ah, Poirot on the case.”

  “Who?” Rachel missed his allusion.

  “No matter,” he responded. “Agatha Christie character. You really should get out more.” He took a long sip of his drink and breathed out heavily. “Retirement, and you being here, it is hard not to reminisce. My college days, back in the States, were brief and yet they were transformational as they say. You know why they call universities repositories of knowledge.”

  “I fear you’re about to tell me,” she added.

  “Someone has to, you didn’t learn much of use in medical school. In any case, it turns out that all these kids enter as freshmen with a little bit of knowledge, and they leave school four years later knowing nothing at all. The smarts gotta go somewhere.”

  “I desperately hope you have another bottle of wine.” She smiled with a look of forced desperation.

  He doubted she would get to a second glass, knowing her, and never a third. “But it is true. I walked in a fresh-faced naïve Irish Catholic kid and left a couple of years or so later, in truth fled, a bewildered proto-revolutionary. You can’t find that kind of change at the bottom of a box of cereal. By the way, which cereal had the surprise at the bottom. I would eat a whole damn box to get to it.”

  “Got me, I ate healthy.”

  “Suck up. You always obeyed the rules. Should’ve enjoyed the sugary poison, like me. After all, you can’t live forever.” He paused that half second that usually signaled a shift. “First thing I recall from school, from college, was the diversity—Jews, Protestants, some minorities. I was the minority at this well-known den of atheists and communists. That’s why I went, of course, to cheese off dad and the fact that Mo was going there. I was shocked to see Pete Favulli my first week there, thought he would go Catholic. I’ll have to ask him how he got there when I see him. Perhaps he told me, but I no longer recall.”

  He got up to top off his drink. “But I digress. All these new ways of looking at things confused me at first. Mo had already nibbled at the edges of my cultural edifice but now I was surrounded by insurgents. Wow, I was going to have to figure things out. I can still see Mort Silver, one of the first profs to get to me. He ambled around campus with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth and looking as if he had just slept three days straight in his clothes. He had that avuncular air, the dissolute uncle that the family griped about when he showed up for Thanksgiving whose cigarette ashes wound up everywhere. But he was brilliant. Well, at least he had this way of getting us to think. The first day of his class, he threw the main text across the floor. Shit, we all jumped a foot. He said something about all of us being smart and we could read it on our own. Then he just started talking about the game of pool, asking us if we could infer causality from a billiard ball moving every time it was struck by another. We all looked at him stupidly. Well, I did at least. That somehow led to a deeper conversation of causality and theory building and other epistemological insights and mysteries.

  “Sometimes, he would amble into the student lounge and sit with us. Wow, a professor who knew we were alive. I recall one day he described a psychology experiment where rats, or was it white mice, were being trained to run through a maze in a certain way using differential reward regimes. I wonder if they still do those silly experiments. Anyways, he asked us to think about the ways in which our search for truth might be corrupted, thus having their internal validity threatened. Maybe our intermittent reward schedules were not the only explanatory variables. What other confounding influences could we imagine. We stumbled for a while but eventually got into it. Hey, maybe smell had to be eliminated, we should cleanse the maze after each trial. Maybe we needed a top to the maze since they could not get cues from the ceiling. Or time of day and who the handler was or something so obtuse that it might otherwise escape even a diligent researcher’s attention. Some proposed noise factors seemed to make sense, do we need deaf mice? We walked away from such sessions wiser, just a smidge. We would think about things more deeply. How do we really know what we think we know? What is truth? The epistemological mysteries were laid before us. Maybe there are other explanations for what we accept as fact. It was a first baby step toward critical thinking.”

  “Damn,” Rachel sai
d. “If you only took that second step. Just think how close you were to real wisdom.”

  Josh threw a paper clip at her. “Sometimes he would throw out the simplest correlations. Okay, poverty is related to poor physical health. We would nod. But what is the causal direction? Does poverty cause health problems? Or do health problems cause poverty? Is the relationship more complex? Maybe the causal path goes both ways or differs by subgroup. ‘Think hard, gentlemen,’ he would suggest, ‘what’s your underlying explanatory theory? Can you really know anything absent a plausible theory?’ He then would tease us with an enigmatic smile.” Josh himself was wearing a semi smile.

  “What’s so amusing?” Rachel asked.

  “Just reflecting. You know, years later, these lessons stuck. I would examine something that seemed obvious. Say,” he paused to think, “you might consider the correlation between smoking and health care costs. The relationship is obvious, no? Smoking causes health problems, which increases costs. Who could argue with that? But maybe smokers die sooner, which they do of course. And we know that the preponderance of care costs go to offset end-of-life care where we spend fortunes extending one’s pain for a few weeks or days or even hours. So maybe smokers cost us less since they do us a favor by dying off sooner and don’t languish years in expensive nursing homes. I don’t know for sure, but I learned that nothing is simple and that, my dear, is a huge life lesson. Think deep and hard about everything.”

  “Great idea, when do you intend to start?” She was enjoying herself tonight.

  “To add to your levity, I’ll admit to not being the most conscientious of students. I approached college with the same casual approach I did toward life in general. I would work hard on things I liked and skate on the uninteresting courses or the ones in which you needed to know something. Statistics courses were the pits, and the sciences were not much better. How did you not want to off yourself in those boring courses? What did I take to meet my science requirement, botany or some similar soft course? I could never figure out how to use that damn microscope. I was always using the kid’s scope next to me. He was this little nerd from New York who seemed on top of things. It must have cheesed him off no end when I did better than he in the course. Still, I really was clueless. The lab instructor was a tiny Asian gal with a heavy accent. I could never understand her. Just shoot me, how in hell did I get through college? On the other hand, I loved sociology, political science, psychology, history, English lit, everything that was not defined by numbers and equations, courses where charm and bullshit could take you a long way. You probably actually worked in college.”