Casual Choices

by Tom Corbett

  “What?”

  “Then I begin to question everything. You know, McNamara, Bundy, and Rusk are smart guys. Bundy was a prodigy at the best schools, and McNamara is known as the whiz kid both in the corporate and government worlds. They are no one’s fools. And they have access to information that I don’t. Maybe I’m just a foolish kid, still immature and easily fooled. I fear getting up one morning and finding out that I’d been a total idiot.”

  “Josh, let me tell you right now. You are a total idiot so stop worrying about that.”

  He laughed and winced. “Don’t do that, it hurts to laugh. The thing is that I feel torn between my head and my heart. There are people who strongly believe we should legalize abortion and others who think it is murder. I want abortion legalized, we should get rid of the coat hangers for sure, but I can see how those who oppose abortion could be outraged if it were, in truth, murder in their eyes. If you thought it was murder, what would you do to stop it? If you thought that thousands of lives were being snuffed out, hundreds of thousands in fact, could you stand by and do nothing? I look at the damage we’re doing over there in Nam and ask, what should I do to stop the slaughter? What should I do? Is any act forbidden or immoral if I believed in my heart that we were committing systemic murder? What would I tell my grandchildren? Oh yes, my country was guilty of international war crimes, but I could not be bothered. I looked the other way, just like the good Germans who looked away as the SS stuffed Jews, Gypsies, and the disabled into ovens.”

  “But—”

  “No, let me continue. This struggle is not a matter of calculation. There’s no equation, no sums of pros and cons that will give you an answer. Reason convinces me that we are engaged in an immoral and surely counterproductive war. We’re killing people by the tens of thousands for the flimsiest of reasons. Really, do you believe that the Commies will be in San Diego if Saigon falls? Come on. It is as if a whole generation is taken with some viral infection that saps our ability to reason. There’s the rub. What if we continue? What if the war continues to escalate? What if the damn war spills over into a broader conflagration? Right now, I am distressed and concerned. And so, I try to reach out and educate and convince others. But you saw what we experienced out there. They hated us. They spit and threw crap and really tried to kill me. How can I reason with such hate?”

  “It takes time, Josh.”

  “I’m afraid…terrified that we’re living among idiots. They will never see reason. They are incapable of connecting the most obvious dots. Sometimes, I think they are driven by fear, an irrational fear. They see a bogeyman everywhere. And they lash out at someone who comes along and says, ‘Hey, you moron, you’re afraid of things that are not real—illusions.’ They need their fears to be substantial and real.”

  “But you’re afraid of something, aren’t you? We all are.”

  He paused. “Sure I am. I fear that resistance to insanity will become rage, frustration will evolve into fanaticism. I’m afraid of what I might become, what I might end up doing.”

  Sarah spoke in a firm voice. “Listen, I’ve come to the same conclusion about the war. But there is a difference, I think. I don’t expect perfection in our policies and our politicians…”

  “But…” he stammered.

  “Shush, my turn.” She slid her hand down his stomach slowly until she reached her destination. He looked at her with a hint of surprise but said nothing. “Listen, you’re in no shape to make love in any conventional way, but this is not so unconventional.” She started stroking him before continuing. “I see our political world as messy and not very rational. You throw in your best shots and cannot expect to win them all. But of one thing I’m certain. You had better be damn sure about what you might be willing to sacrifice because it could be everything. You are a passionate man, Josh. That’s what makes you so attractive to me, among other things” She chuckled a bit at her private joke and then turned serious again. “But that passion could destroy you. I’m not sure I’ve said this before, but I am in awe of you. I know I’m at the top of the class in terms of grades, but in many ways, you have the better intellect. I just work harder at it. The thing is, you’re quite brilliant, why do you think I take all these chances by being with you? My real boyfriend would not be very happy, and he is a damn good catch. Fair warning, don’t screw everything up. Don’t sacrifice everything for lost causes. The price is too high. I am scared for you.” Josh barely heard the final warning; her ministrations were beginning to have their intended effect.

  “Bet your Prince Charming doesn’t have family jewels like mine,” Josh murmured before realizing how vulnerable he was. But she ignored him and continued as he sank further into a sense of well-being.

  Wow, Josh thought. He could remember that day and night like it happened over the previous weekend. So much was lost to him, but some moments remained vivid, alive. Many of those vivid images involved Eleni, which surprised him not in the least. Incoherent images flowed through his head without pattern at first but slowed down soon enough and assumed some coherence.

  Sitting on that campus bench, he struggled to recall the first kiss with Leni. That was odd, he remembered first kisses with women whose names were now long gone. And yet he could summon up his early feelings with her. There was a deep pit in his stomach where reason and detachment had disappeared. Mr. Cool had lost that which marked him as unique and lost it in a big way. He could not determine whether this was the first instance, but she sat next to him in his car. As they chatted, he pushed Leni’s longish dark hair back, revealing a long neck. She stopped talking in anticipation. It mattered not, he had not heard anything she had said for some time. Then he leaned over and kissed her on her neck, very gently. He detected a slight shiver through her body. More kisses followed until he touched her lips with the lightest touch while expecting her to run away, maybe even smack him upside the head. But she lay her head on his shoulder. He was relieved she had not decided to cuddle against his chest. She could not have missed his wildly beating heart. He felt like the most naïve and innocent teenager.

  In some ways, looking back, that whole relationship was surreal. He would never be sexually intimate with the one woman he completely loved. Was that accident, chance, or was there some causality working here? Was this a cynical joke by a malevolent God? Just as youthful relationships seem more real, perhaps unconsummated romances are the most intense. Perhaps familiarity tarnishes the luster a fraction, takes away the sharp edges of anticipation. He could never hope to sort that conundrum out. His sample size was way too small and hardly representative. He only had this one vignette. And yet the intensity of those kisses, of her finally indicating an interest in him, overwhelmed him after all these decades. That same hollow feeling settled where his heart was just a few minutes ago. Need did hurt, desire struck one down with unimaginable intensity. The poets wrote magnificent odes to love. In truth, it was a feeling that sucked the big one. Her haunting deer-in-the-headlight eyes were still available to his mind’s eyes.

  She had been the only girl whose family he had gotten to know. He had steered away from such familiarity wherever he could. But he had embraced hers. What did that say about her and them as a couple? Her dad’s family had connections in Britain, and several made their way there as war broke out. Her father then made the even more improbable jump to America where he volunteered his engineering skills to the military and continued his education. He was living a lonely, monkish existence in a time when men were scarce. One day, an exuberant and lively Greek lass came across him and decided he would be the one. It was speculated later that she would have clung on to any man in those lean times for young women. But this pairing of opposites worked.

  What Josh found remarkable was the general ambiance of the household. There was hugging and noise and general mayhem. Eleni was an only child, but there were aunts and uncles and cousins and neighbors in the house all the time. Every one of Josh’s visits was an excuse for a party. He was embraced and fussed over a
s soon as walked in the door. Some of the female cousins he thought hugged him with a special exuberance. He usually tried to seek out her father who seemed an island of sanity in a sea of craziness, but his refuge never lasted long; he would be dragged back into a vortex of activity. What was a private Irishman to do?

  Josh came to from his reverie. He sensed he was smiling as he sat on his bench on the university campus. He quickly looked around to see if anyone had noticed what he considered to be his odd behavior. No one seemed to be paying him the slightest attention. Odd behavior on any university campus was not likely to stand out. His anxiety that he stood out as strange soon had been assuaged. Satisfied that all was fine, he returned to his reverie.

  The chaos in Leni’s home was so different from his own habitat. His family life seemed an ongoing wake. He loved Rachel, but she often retreated to the sanctuary of her books. His mother was the usually quiet, ethereal presence who floated through life trying not to attract attention to herself. Josh knew that she had depth and untapped mysteries to be explored. Somehow, he never found the key to unlock those secrets. His dad was gregarious and a great storyteller, but he was never around. He was usually entertaining people in the bar or with his fellow Irishmen yet plotting revolutionary acts that became less likely by the year, or with female acquaintances who would remain shadows to the rest of the family. Day to day, it was an icy and silent world.

  There also was this superb cuisine to be found in Leni’s world. His own mother could play the piano. She could even be coaxed to play in the bar on weekend nights though she hated the exercise. She also kept the house orderly and very neat. But one domestic skill that had eluded her was cooking. She had neither flare nor imagination in the culinary arts. His dad didn’t seem to mind. He was one of those classic Irishmen who favored boring foods—a piece of meat, a vegetable, and a potato. The three food groups were not to touch, and no seasoning was permitted. The meat was often fried, the vegetable out of a can, and the spuds mashed to death. Dinner was consumed quickly and often in silence. He had learned to eat to live and not live to eat.

  Now he was exposed to a cornucopia of wondrous foods—spiced lamb, Greek potatoes that he loved and which surprised him to no end, moussaka, souvlaki, cheese and spinach pies, soups, assortments of goodies on long spits, and amazing desserts. And the conversation was sparkling and enthusiastic. They were always interested in what he was doing, what he was thinking about, what he was planning to do. After football, his parents seemed singularly uncaring. He knew Ora cared, but she never bothered to breach a wall of silence. Well, there was the time that she looked at him and said, “Son, I will be proud of you whatever you do.” When he tried to pick up the conversation, she walked away. Mom, he had screamed inside, talk to me.

  He wondered why he found all this so enticing, it was alien to him. Of course, it was not a secret. He had found love. They loved him, were treating him as a son. Like the proverbial moth to a flame, he was drawn in. One day, he found himself with Eleni’s favorite cousin, whom she treated as the sister she never had.

  “Tell me,” Josh asked her. “Why does everyone treat me so nice? Did the family treat all of Eleni’s boyfriends this well?”

  “Hah,” she had burst out, throwing her head back. “This is Eleni you are talking about. You’re the first guy that matters to her. Frankly, I think everyone is shocked she is not a lesbian though it would never be discussed, at least not among the parents. They would love any guy who paid attention to her and, most importantly, that she liked back.”

  “And all this time I thought I was special,” Josh said.

  The cousin paused a moment. “Okay, you should know that you’re not really the first. There was a Greek boy who has pursued her since high school. But no one liked him very much.”

  “Why?”

  “Hmmm, he was a bit into himself, obnoxious. But I think the bigger thing is that Eleni didn’t seem to like him that much. He was aggressive, and I think she was being Eleni. She didn’t want to disappoint him. She would not push him away because that would not be nice.”

  “Ah,” he had responded, “that explains everything. She is dating me out of pity.”

  Then the cousin leaned in quite close, making Josh a bit uncomfortable. “Listen to me. Leni loves you. We all know that. She would never say those words, but I can see it in her eyes, the way she looks at you when you’re not paying attention, the way her voice changes ever so slightly, when she talks about you. And if she loves you, then we all love you. In truth, if she wasn’t head over heels in love with you, I would give you a shot myself.” She gave him a mischievous grin.

  Josh recalled the wave of panic that swelled over him. Eleni never said that to him, never hinted it. She was nice, responsive in her asexual way, but she never revealed the depth of her feelings. Maybe that is what had drawn him in. She did not push, she never pursued him. He had come to her. He had always hated girls who flirted or dressed provocatively. He would dismiss the ones that bared almost everything and then shame boys who made passes. How obviously disingenuous could you get? But then he was hit with another feeling, a strange one. Did she really love him? That should send him running. But it didn’t. He rather welcomed this fact. How could that be? And why didn’t she tell him? Did she know he was a flight risk? Was she unaware of her own feelings? Did she feel the same as he did, that love was a toxic illusion? He did not quite know what to make of all this. But one thing was sure. He had no intention of fleeing from her. Whatever was going to happen, he wanted to see what would come next. This woman had vexed him in frightening and seductive ways. This family had shown him what a family could be.

  “One more thing,” the cousin said, “you hurt her and I personally will break your kneecaps. She is the nicest, and most vulnerable, girl I know. I love her to bits. We all do.”

  Before Josh could stop, the words escaped, “So do I.”

  Many specific memories were lost from that time but not the internal struggle. On one hand, he saw what love and affection were all about. He was drawn to the laughter, the acceptance, being part of a larger family. He loved simply spending time with her. She dragged him to see a movie one night called A Man and a Woman. It was subtitled if he recalled correctly, but the plot seemed achingly familiar. Man meets woman, they dance around each other through several near disasters. The man is a racecar driver. He tries to run away from commitment but is having a very difficult time. Then one day, after winning a long and grueling race, he realizes how deeply he feels about her. He then drives through the night from wherever the race took place to Paris where he runs into her arms at daybreak. True love is found, and the world is again at peace.

  When they left the theater, she asked him how he liked it. He should have noticed the moisture in her eyes before dismissing it outright as a silly chick flick, though the term may not have existed at the time. She stomped up the street as he ran after her, trying to make amends. When he caught up to her, she waved a fist at him, saying, “Connelly,” her term of affection when she was scolding him. But that was the thing. She never got mad. She was always kind and funny and loving in her innocent way. She always seemed to treat him as a gift that had fallen accidentally into her life. But she never did it in the fawning way that turned him off. The banter was always there, and it never failed to make him happy. And then it hit him. While he was kidding her about the movie just to get a reaction, the story line hit home. OMG, he really had been the protagonist, trying to run away but getting nowhere.

  And then there was Morris, Carla, Bob, Jim, and the others. Peter was gone by now. The remainder were pulling each other deeper into a life of resistance to the nation’s sins as they saw them. They fed off one another, reinforced one another’s views and passions. And as they did, they bonded emotionally. The outside world became less relevant, less real. They had created their bubble, and the universe within that space increasingly made sense. But Josh kept looking at the outside world, what he felt with Eleni. She would come t
o some of the protest events but only for his sake. She was never part of that world, and he knew it. She was a science major, after all, and they were too busy to get involved in political nonsense.

  One day, as the fall season was upon them, he convinced her to come away with him to Cape Cod. She could miss some time in the lab for a day or two. She hemmed and hawed for several reasons but eventually relented. Inside, she was excited by the prospect and nervous as well. She hated deceiving her family, but the thought of being with Josh excited her. She really was innocent about so many things.

  “Where are we headed?” she asked.

  “Provincetown.”

  “Never been there, can you imagine?”

  “Well, that’s my job, to make you a complete woman,” he said with a smile.

  “When are you going to start?” They both chuckled but she had a wary look on her face.

  He noticed her wariness. “Don’t worry, I’m only working on getting you out being a total nerd, we can wait until next week to turn you into a wanton vixen.”

  “Did you bring a book on how to do that?” She smiled back. “Or maybe take a fantasy class.”

  “Woman, in a couple of days, you will be—”

  “Begging you to take me back to campus.” Now she laughed aloud, and he did too. He glanced at her. His heart fluttered.

  Provincetown was a favorite place of his. He had come here alone more than once, just to get away and be with his thoughts. He loved the remoteness and isolation of the place after the summer crowds had exited. Ted Kennedy had secured protection for large areas of the nearby dunes and beaches; they would be protected from predatory entrepreneurs and their beauty preserved from ugly developments motivated by greed. It was a special place.

  He knew of some cottages outside of the town itself and amid the dunes. There was no natural protection, only scrub grasses, so the winds blew with few impediments to slow their journey. The air was brisk and fall-like, crisp and dry. The sky was an azure blue. The setting sun would sparkle off the choppy water as would the almost full moon that night. The town was situated at the end of a long hook of land so that you could look westward over the water back toward Boston.