Chapter 12
Thursday night, Pebble ate dinner with Slim at RizRaz on Store Kannikestraede, a lovely old street in the heart of Copenhagen. Jon and Adam weren’t invited. “I want to talk to you,” Slim said on the phone when he called and asked her out. “It’s about the kids.”
So she said okay even though she really didn’t want to go. When he pleaded children, she couldn’t see how she could refuse. He is their father, even if he is a jerk. And besides, Pebble’s friend Fast Eddie, the copywriter from Santa Monica, always said the most important thing for kids from broken homes was to see their parents could be friends. “You know, acting like civilized human beings,” was how Eddie put it. This was the first time Pebble had been alone with Slim in over a year and she didn’t particularly like it. Oh well, I guess that just because it’s my duty, it doesn’t mean I have to like it. But she wasn’t positive she was there because of duty either. Maybe the real reason was guilt.
You see, Slim had been mad at her for years. He was mad before they got divorced and mad afterwards, when she finally left him. It was a no-win situation for Pebble. Whatever she did was wrong. Slim wanted Pebble to be the woman he wanted her to be. When she turned out to be somebody else, it was just too much for him. Sitting with him once again at a table in the back of the restaurant brought the memories flooding back. They’d been married for 14½ years. Even if they were on opposite sides of the fence now, nothing had changed. She knew Slim would go for the jugular.
I guess Irene’s right – I’m suffering from the doormat syndrome. Irene was a gentle prodder. On her last visit, she asked Pebble to explain what she meant by being a decent human being. Irene hinted that there were limits. Why are you so nice to everybody, Pebble? Just tell me how far your decency quota goes. When Pebble couldn’t tell her, Irene gave her more homework. “Go home and find out.”
“So, tell me about your life,” Slim asked over the food they’d both collected from the buffet. He was thinner than she remembered – and older. Or maybe it’s just in comparison to Per. Pebble was still high from making love to Per the night before. She still felt his smell on her body, even though she’d showered carefully this morning.
“I’m doing great.” She didn’t want to discuss her life with Slim. He invited her out to talk about their boys.
“Jon and Adam tell me you’ve got a new job.”
“Yeah, it’s terrific, I’m learning so much.” She smiled at the thought. Einar was a great man to work for, especially now that she’d staked out her turf.
“Well, what exactly do you do?”
“Oh, I help my boss develop business plans and stuff like that.” Pebble knew that Slim knew nothing about the advertising business.
“I’m just wondering,” he chose his words carefully, “how you can work on shit like that…I mean after everything we’ve been through together.”
She didn’t want him preaching. Damn, why did I come?
“I don’t have any problems with it.” She tried to sound upbeat, but they knew each other too well. She remembered sitting by his bedside at the hospital after he’d gotten his head bashed after an Amnesty International demonstration. In an unusually violent episode in London, the police had banged up some of the kids who had chained themselves to public buildings in connection with the “Human Rights Tour” during the late 80s.
“I wonder what the kids think.” Slim was wiping his mouth with his napkin. He ran away from home as a 16-year-old to join Greenpeace. Once when the police returned him (after an episode against Icelandic whaling in the North Sea) to his parents who were farmers in Jutland, they shrugged off his politics as temporary insanity.
Thinking back to their remark, Pebble couldn’t help but wonder if they’d been right all along. There was something about Slim’s politics that made him seem almost inhuman. You can be on the right side and still be a mensch.
RizRaz was not at all like the upbeat restaurants and cafes Pebble frequented in her new reincarnation. But Slim couldn’t afford anything better and besides, he equated poverty with righteousness. The fact that he never had any money proved his virtue. He was into “just causes.” His on-and-off employment teaching displaced minority groups just barely kept him going – another sign of his superiority. “I live outside the system,” he declared proudly. Now that she was making money, he treated her like a sell-out, a traitor. He never mentioned the fact that she was single-handedly supporting his kids without any help from him.
“What do you mean?” she asked. “The kids think it’s great.”
“I’m surprised. I would think they’d wonder about having a mom who worked in an ad agency. Especially with their background.”
“God, Slim, this is ridiculous.” She sat up straight and put her napkin down. “I didn’t accept your dinner invitation to have you lecture me. I thought we were going to talk about what we can do as parents to help Jon and Adam. If I’d known you were going to start in like this, I’d have stayed home.”
“But you don’t understand,” he shot back, the righteous fury back in his eyes again, “my children are living with you.”
“Slim, we’re not married anymore…” but he didn’t let her finish.
“My children are living with you and I don’t approve of the way you’re bringing them up. It’s as simple as that.”
All her impulses said “go!” But she forced herself to be calm and sit there. They’d had too many fights like this before. Why can’t we just be friends? Fast Eddie’s words (he was divorced, too and had three kids) went up in lights in her head, It’s so important for the kids to see their parents together, behaving like civilized human beings…It’s so important for your kids…for your kids… Pebble knew that Jon and Adam desperately wanted them to be on speaking terms.
“Slim…” she waited until her voice was steady, “…didn’t you hear what I just said? We’re not married anymore…and whether you like it or not, you can’t tell me how to live my life anymore…” She stopped and laughed. “Well, obviously you can…but the point is I don’t have to listen to you anymore.”
Violent inner storms had left their mark on his handsome face. She watched him struggle once more with his anger. She wished he’d let it go, but he couldn’t. He never really came to terms with their separation, and for that reason alone, she pitied him. He should be stranded on a desert island with Irene for a couple of years. Slim was so concerned with the world around him that he was incapable of facing the demons within. She was glad she wasn’t married to him anymore.
“Now either we decide to behave civilly, or I think we’d better call it quits. The kids really want us to be friends. That’s why I’m here.” Her level-mindedness infuriated him.
“How can I be friends,” he couldn’t control himself any longer, “with the woman who betrayed me – who betrayed me and my children. You betrayed me, Pebble, yes you did! You betrayed everything I believe in. I still can’t believe it. And now you’re nothing but a hussy for some advertising bigwig who stands for everything we fought against all those years…”
She was hoping he’d regain his senses.
But he didn’t, “And to think we stood on the barricades together. God I remember that morning when we met in Auckland. You were so beautiful. Beautiful.” He stood up slowly, his fury making him larger than life. “And look at you now, it’s pitiful to watch. You think money…you think freedom and going to bed with whoever you please, is going to make you happy – is going to make this world happy. Aren’t you ashamed?”
Pebble just sat there without moving and watched him. It was like watching a movie she’d seen a hundred times before. It used to hurt, but it didn’t anymore. Slim had lost his power to move or wound her. She was indifferent to the condemnation in his voice – dead to the ties that once bound them. Actually it was strangely liberating to sit there quietly and listen to him rant and rave. She might be a wounded bird, but at least she was free now. Poor man – why is everything he sees so dark? How did he bec
ome so impover-ished? Pebble felt that something was desperately wrong with Slim, only she didn’t know what. Will he ever be able to sit down quietly and admit that he feels miserable – that everything’s not right in his world? She wished for him that he could reach out and touch someone – anyone – but in her bones she knew the earth would have to rotate on its axis many times before that happened. The man’s got so much heavy baggage with him. I guess nobody can help him but himself. God knows I tried.
She watched him as if she was looking at somebody trapped in a fishbowl. She recognized his tactics – they were the same ones he’d used on her for years. He’d stomp and shout until he bamboozled her into doing whatever he wanted her to do. Most of the time, his routine was so refined that he managed to convince her that whatever it was that was wrong was her fault. He had a way of placing it right on her doorstep. And she let him do it – every time. That was their game. That was the devious, deceitful way – the sick way – they played with each other. Other people might play other games, but that was their game. Name the blame. That was their game. Whatever it was, it was her fault. He manipulated me like this for years – by guilt.
Sitting quietly and watching him bluster again brought her the precious gift of self-knowledge. And I let him. It exploded in her consciousness like a bomb. AND I LET HIM! If Irene had been there Pebble would have kissed her right on the lips. Nobody – nobody was standing there pointing a gun to my head. Nobody. It was me all along! I let him. She wished for an insane moment she could jump up and tell Slim. She felt like hugging him for letting her see. He’s been my teacher all along! That was the irony of it, the ingeniousness of the ways of the world. I guess Jon would say – you’re learning, Mom. She was glad she had a son who read all those New Age books. Sometimes he read her passages from Emmanuel’s Book. Emmanuel said the world is a school and for the first time in her life, she really believed it. You just keep repeating your lessons until your learn them. But it’s taken me so long…and it’s cost so much.
Now she saw that Slim was a very insecure power person and what enraged him more than anything else were situations and people he couldn’t control. Her insubordination was just one more sign of his impotence in a large and frightening universe. Their marriage had been fine until the day she questioned his might and his right. She interpreted his present rage as a sign that somewhere, deep in his subconscious, he thought he could win her back and regain his power. This isn’t love, she saw it clearly, sadly, and it never has been. What Slim calls love isn’t love, it’s a power trip. I’ll love you as long as you do what I want you to do. Now that she was independent and making money, he couldn’t touch her – and that incensed him even more.
“Pebble, you know what I’ve always said.” He was standing at the end of the table now, trembling all over. His lips seemed to curl with rage. She hoped his departure was imminent. She remained seated, watching their uneaten food turn cold.
“Slim, I really don’t want to talk to you when you’re in this frame of mind.” She said the words carefully, quietly. “Why don’t you just go?”
“You’ll see.” He leaned forward and pointed his finger at her. “You’ll see. One day when the party’s over and you have to pay, don’t come crying to me.”
She picked up her belongings and started to get up. I don’t need to listen to this anymore. If he’s not going to leave, I am. Irene was right; politeness does have its limits.
“Excuse me, if you’ll just let me pass.” She didn’t look him in the eye, but clutched her purse to her breast as if it could protect her from his wrath.
“Just let me finish, Pebble.” He blocked her path. The people at the other tables were watching them now. “Slim, stop it – please. Enough is enough.”
“God damn it, Pebble, will you listen to me – for once in your life.”
“Please get out of my way.” She was mad now, too. She didn’t want it to end like this, but she couldn’t change the way things were. I should have known better.
She pushed herself past him, shoving him aside. If they hadn’t been in a public place, she was sure he would have tried to restrain her. He’d never hit her before, but she always felt he came very close when she defied him. Today was no different.
She made a beeline for the door.
“Capitalist pig,” he shouted at her back.
Chapter 13
“Well, what do you think?” Irene asked. Pebble was telling her what happened the other night when she met Slim. “Do you really think you’ve sold out?”
After contemplating Irene’s question for a while, Pebble tried being ruthlessly honest and failed miserably. All she could say was, “I really don’t know.” Her answer was such a disappointment to both of them that Pebble plunged on bravely trying to come up with something that felt a little bit more satisfying. “You know, Irene, sometimes life is just so confusing. Here we are all safe and sound in this cozy little country, protected from much of what’s going on in the world – with both the time and the opportunity to try and sort out our lives – and we still screw up. Sometimes it doesn’t make sense. Anyway, when I was young in America, everybody with a social conscience freaked out. You remember how it was in the 80s; there was more than enough to get excited about. I was as much a part of that movement as Slim was back then. So when we met in Auckland during the Rainbow Warrior affair in ’85, we had no problem communicating. I mean we knew all the same phrases – we shared the same mythology…we inhabited the same world. That’s what brought us together. I mean it wasn’t us, it was the world situation. We had this…well…common vision…but things change.”
“Do they?”
“Sure they do, the world’s not the same as it was then and I’m not either.”
“Aren’t they two different things, Pebble?” Irene adjusted her horn-rimmed glasses carefully. She dressed like so many other Danish women who regard themselves as fervent members of the intelligentsia – faded corduroy trousers, a sweatshirt and good running shoes. She wore her luxurious, gray-streaked hair pulled tightly back from her face.
“What do you mean?” Pebble was confused.
“I mean just what I said – the way the world has changed and the way you’ve changed – are two different things.”
“Yeah, I guess so…”
“Maybe it would be a good idea to look at them separately…”
Pebble nodded, but in truth, she felt annoyed. Sometimes Irene can be such a pain. Why do I always have to sort things out? Pebble was starting to appreciate the amount of hard work that went into self-discovery. At times like this she wasn’t sure she had what it takes. All this responsibility stuff is enough to make you puke! …Maybe I should pack up and go home. All of a sudden, Pebble was more interested in having a good time than in learning about herself. If Irene had known how Pebble was feeling, she would have agreed wholeheartedly. There was only one small catch – Irene firmly believed that self-discovery was a prerequisite to having a good time.
“Tell me about Slim’s idealism.” Irene knew Pebble needed prodding. It was usually like that when people had to look at something that was bothering them.
“What do you want to know?”
“Well, try to describe it to me first.” Irene smoothed back her hair and settled comfortably into her chair.
“Well, it’s hard to explain…Basically I don’t think Slim’s beliefs are any different than yours or mine. I mean he believes in social justice and racial equality and peace on earth and saving the rain forest and all that stuff. The problem is more what he does with those beliefs.”
“What do you mean?” Irene kept on prodding.
“He’s different from us.”
“How?”
“Well, he’s…” Pebble searched for the right word, “he’s well…a fanatic. I think that’s how you’d describe him.”
“What do you mean by a fanatic, Pebble. Explain it to me.” Irene wanted Pebble to nail it down.
“I don’t know exactly.” She
paused again while she tried to find the right explanation. “I think Slim thinks he’s better than other people – superior. I know it’s hard to imagine, but I think he feels he knows what’s good for other people or that he can solve their problems better than they can themselves. I don’t know, sometimes I think it’s like he looks down on other people…It’s not a very compassionate attitude…I mean why should he be able to solve other people’s problems better than they can?”
“That’s a good question, Pebble. Especially when I get the impression, from what you’ve told me, that he’s not very successful when it comes to solving his own problems.” Irene usually didn’t say so much, but she was trying to encourage Pebble to speak more freely. Pebble had a tendency to only say things when she was sure they were correct which greatly limited their exchange. Irene wanted her to dare a little more and to understand that she could verbalize her thoughts – and send them out into the world like little test balloons – without committing any crimes or making any judgments.
“Pebble, before we go on, I just want to say one thing. I know I’ve told you this before, but I think it’s worth repeating. I am never going to repeat anything you say to another living soul. It’s important that you allow yourself to speak freely. You’re not passing judgment on anyone by discussing your ideas, emotions or reactions with me. That’s why you’re here. To test your ideas and feelings, and to find out a little more about yourself. This is a process of discovery and it’s supposed to be fun. So try to let yourself go a little bit more.”
Pebble thought about what Irene said for a minute. “I guess you’re right, I kind of have the feeling I shouldn’t say anything unless I’m sure it’s right.”
“But what’s right anyway, Pebble?” Irene asked. “I mean there is no right here…what we’re basically talking about is your experience – and who you are. By knowing yourself a little better, by gaining a little more insight into your own preferences and limitations, you should be able to navigate more successfully through life’s complexities…What I’m trying to say is by understanding yourself a little better; you should be able to enjoy yourself a little more.”
Adventures of Pebble Beach Page 15
