Naked Came the Stranger - By Penelope Ashe Page 0,28

Medieval Philosophy professor tried to make love to her under water while a chilly April moon glittered over College Pond.

When they finally arrived at their destination, Raina opened the door to meet them. She took one look at Gillian and floated off – ethereally, she hoped – to the upstairs bedroom, where she sucked on an LSD-saturated sugar cube and pondered life's inequities. A little mind expansion was sorely needed. Arthur's total insensitivity had stretched both her heart and soul to the breaking point. She was sorry for a moment that she hadn't played Indian for him – even a second time.

No one had yet spoken to Gillian – at least not directly. She walked, of her own power, into the living room. She was struck by the frightened look on the face of the young woman who retreated up the stairs. When she turned around, Arthur was in the process of removing his levis. Dexter had wandered into the kitchen to munch his salami sandwich in peace.

"Was there something you wanted to tell me?" she finally asked.

"Nope," he said.

"Was there some reason for the ride, for being kidnapped?"

"You can split any time you want," Arthur said. "No one's making you stay."

Gillian was not frightened. She realized, in a way, that Arthur had undressed in order to make her feel more… comfortable. She tried not to look at him, but the lean, young body struck a chord, a chord of memory rather than desire, and she was happy at least for that. It had been a long time, she realized, since a boy had held any interest for her.

"Are the two of you married?" she finally asked.

"No," he said. "Dexter's just a buddy from the army."

"Not Dexter," she said. "I'm talking about the little creature who just took such an obvious powder."

"That depends on what you mean by married," Arthur said. "We share the pad. And she uses my name, if that's what you mean."

"I take it, then, it's a common-law marriage."

"Who knows?" he said. "Do you smoke?"

"I've got my own" – she patted the handbag containing a package of Luckies.

"Crazy," he said. "I could tell you'd swing. Excuse me then while I light up."

From the manner in which he inhaled the smoke, the exaggerated swallowing with eyes closed, and from the bittersweet smell of the exhaled smoke, Gillian realized the boy smoked marijuana. She was neither shocked nor caught off balance. Charlie, in college, had smoked marijuana, and the small furnished room in the town of Annandale was often filled with the same smell. She often thought that those had been the best times of all. Never mind that in a very real sense they were all blind; at least they all tried to find some light.

"You remind me of someone I once knew," she said.

"You remind me of someone I knew in school."

"You don't," he said.

"Don't what?"

"Don't remind me of someone I once knew in school," he said. "Don't remind me of anyone ever. You're something else. That's why you're so wiggy."

"He was blind," Gillian went on. "He was a blind piano-playing boy and he used to sit around like you are, without clothes, and he'd talk and talk. The things we were going to do, the things we believed in, the world problems we were going to solve."

"That's cool," he said.

Dexter returned to the living room, munching at a new salami sandwich. He evinced no surprise at the sight of Arthur completely stripped except for the motorcycle helmet. He asked where Raina was and then walked upstairs.

"You let your wife…?" Gillian didn't complete the question.

"She's got her life," he said. "I got mine. Where shall we go?"

"Where?" Gillian said.

"Where?"

The question where had, in fact, been on Arthur's mind for the past five minutes. He and Raina had made love in every available square inch of the house, everywhere from the broom closet to the refrigerator (a little cramped even with the shelves removed, but delightfully cool in August) and now, with a new chick, it seemed only right to find a new spot.

Gillian almost said no. She came perilously close to exiting from the absurd little drama, but something made her stay. The thought of destroying a union as ephemeral as this one, this semi-marriage of Arthur and Raina, seemed more than redundant. There seemed no way to rationalize coupling with this youthful madman.

Maybe it was his very youth – that frail, pale little boy, his chest bare of hair, his little-boy face twisted in effort as