Chapter 22

“Tom! Tom, over here!”

I saw an arm waving at the end of the platform and made my way through the sparse crowd and found my parents waiting by an exit. She was jumping up and down and when I got close enough, she threw her arms around me and my luggage and hugged me.

“We thought maybe you missed your train. How was your trip? You look thinner. And taller. How were your exams?”

“Jane, give him a chance to catch his breath,” said my father. “He’ll tell us everything. But later. Tom, give me a couple of those bags.”

And so we made our way to the car, my mother trying to fill me in on everything I’d missed since I had left, my father’s protests notwithstanding. Mindy was at home. Apparently the phone could not be left unattended because she might miss a message. Some things will never change.

Once home, I got an actual ‘hello, glad you’re home’ from Mindy. My mother busied herself in the kitchen, where apparently she had expended some of her nervous energy earlier in the evening by baking a pie.

“Sit,” she said, putting the pie on the table and getting a half gallon of ice cream out of the freezer compartment. “Start at the beginning.”

“You do know it’s after midnight, right? I’m not sure how much energy I’ve got left in me, but at least till the pie’s gone.”

I took a bite, and decided it was a step up from the pie in in the grub hub. I started talking.

“The biggest difference between last year and this, I think, is that now we’re on our own. It’s our decision how much we want to put into the process and how much we can get out of it. No one’s checking in on us, asking us if we’re keeping up. We are or we aren’t, it’s our job to figure it out.

“There are people — I’m sure it’s true at every college — who don’t understand that, who get wrapped up in the social scene, hanging out with friends. It’s a shame, really, most of them won’t last the year. But if you put some effort into it ... Well, I was really surprised how much I took away from most of my classes. The depth of information that’s buried in the lectures is striking, and it’s easy to overlook it, just picking up the high points, enough to pass. If you work at it, though, there’s so much more that you can understand.”

I paused for some more pie. While I was chewing, she asked me what my favorite class was.

“I honestly don’t know. I liked parts of all of them, found out stuff I hadn’t known. Even English, which I’d never much cared for in high school, but when they started explaining about the times and places where these stories and poems were written, and how people understood their world at that time ... well, it all started to make more sense and I could appreciate and understand these works much better. And we’d read some of them in high school, but we got taught none of the things that would have helped us make sense of it.

“Even history, when you’re taught by someone who loves the subject, who’s immersed in it and can explain the cause and effect of events and people, well, that stuff can actually be exciting. Maybe not so exciting that I’d want to major in it, but still...

“I’m leaning toward psychology because there are parts of it that would help me to understand people’s motives and desires.”

She leaned forward. “And your exams? How did you think you did on those?”

“I felt okay about them, I wasn’t fumbling for answers, but they were asking for a greater amount of depth and detail than any test I had in high school, so I don’t really have anything to compare it to.

“Look, I’m about out of energy now to talk more about this, but we’ll have the rest of vacation to catch up. Short answer, I don’t regret anything about this semester. It was ... I guess exhilarating is the word. It was hard, but it was exhilarating. I’m looking forward to going back in January.”

My father said, “I’m happy to hear that you weren’t overwhelmed. To be honest, I was a little worried about it, but it sounds like you did well. We’re glad you’re home, Tom. Jane, let the boy get some sleep. You can grill him more in the morning over breakfast.”

He knew her well. She was likely already planning her second round of questions. At some point in the process, one of them would be, “So, meet any nice girls?” She was nothing if not predictable.

We said goodnight and I took my bags up to my old room. It looked a little unfamiliar after almost four months away, but as soon as I lay down, it felt like home. I got undressed, pulled up the covers and turned out the light. I didn’t remember falling asleep.

The light from the window woke me. I’d forgotten to pull down the shade and the morning sun was shouting me awake. I rolled over to look at the clock. Well, nine-ish, so I had been able to ignore the sun for some hours. But probably time to get moving anyway. I took a quick shower and found clean clothes, then headed downstairs.

And, sure enough, my mother was lying in wait, ostensibly washing dishes at the sink, but I’d bet she’d been listening for waking-up sounds so she could be prepared.

“What would you like for breakfast?” she asked.

“Don’t bother, Mom, I can do it.”

“Don’t be silly, I’m right here. Eggs okay?”

I thanked her and poured coffee which slowly nudged me awake. ‘Eggs’ apparently also included bacon, toast, fresh home fries, and a banana. It made her happy, I knew, to do that, even if it made me a bit uncomfortable to have her waiting on me. But she was no fool, there was a price to pay for her generosity.

So while I ate, she started asking questions, drilling down to get all the details. What was my roommate like? How was the food? Was I eating enough? Did I go to many parties? Had I thought about joining a fraternity? [No] How much time did I spend studying each day? Had I met anyone?

Hah! There it was! I knew it was coming. I brushed it aside by saying I’d gone out with a couple of nice girls, nothing exceptional to report, and I didn’t really have a lot of free time to date anyway.

She wouldn’t give up, she’d keep coming back to it, but it was enough for now. I finished breakfast and took the dishes to the sink. She tried to push me away, saying she’d do the dishes, but I insisted since she’d made breakfast.

When I eventually got free — Mindy had come in in a panic as she’d found a spot on a dress she was planning to wear to a party and now her evening was going to be ruined — I went to the phone and made a few calls to catch up with some of my friends.

Karen’s flight wouldn’t be arriving till tonight, so I called Jeff and Frankie instead. Jeff had had, to hear him tell it, an awesome first semester, party central. I asked about classes and he told me his final exams weren’t till next month and he had a lot of studying to do in order to catch up. I kinda knew that was going to happen, and I hoped he’d get through it okay.

I asked if he’d talked to Kate yet, and he said they were going to get together tomorrow to catch up. She wanted to spend some time with her parents first. We made tentative plans to go out for food sometime in the next couple of days.

I sat down on a chair in the living room and thought about what I had to do, and the surprising answer was, pretty much nothing. Other than getting together with Karen and Jeff, I had no pressing need to be anywhere or do anything until I returned to school. It rather shocked me, as I’d always had reading, papers and cramming to do over Christmas vacation. But not this time.

I did have to buy some Christmas presents, for family, for Karen, and I had to think about what they might like. Maybe I should go to the mall — along with the twelve thousand other people already there trying to get through their Christmas shopping — and see if inspiration would strike.

I was interrupted by Mindy passing through on her way from the kitchen. “I thought you were trying to get a stain out of your party dress?” I asked her.

“Mom said she’d take care of it.”

“Is the party tonight? Is your boyfriend going to be there? What’s his name, anyway?”

“It’s tonight, and his name is Evan.”

“How’d you meet him? Is he cute?”

“Cuter than you. I met him at school. We’re in a couple of the same classes.”

I’d always been curious what would happen when Mindy started dating. Now’s a good a time as any, I suppose.

“Does Mom do that annoying thing with you that she always did with me, wanting to know who I was attracted to and what they were like and what happened when we were together and what we talked about? Like a detective?”

She actually blushed.

“Um, yeah. Pretty much like that. But it’s okay, she sometimes says things that make sense, so I don’t mind so much. Anyway, I filter what I tell her.”

“I did that, too. Defense mechanism. How are you and school getting along? Who’s winning?”

“I’m doing okay. I don’t like it as much as I think you did, but I can get through the work. Mostly.”

“Glad to hear it.”

My mother called Mindy from the kitchen, and she ran off to check on her dress.

I looked at my watch. A little after ten. I thought about it and decided this was probably the best chance I’d have to shop, since I didn’t know who I was going to be getting together with and when. I got my coat and gloves and headed off for the bus to the mall.

It was a zoo, of course, people getting to that frantic stage where they suddenly realize that they probably won’t have enough time to finish everything, so they move faster, nudging everyone out of the way. But I was able to focus, cataloging what I’d seen in the stores, matching it against known likes and dislikes of the giftees, and in the end I thought I’d gotten the right gift for everyone.

Karen was the hardest, because I wanted to get just the right thing for her. In the end I found a book I thought she’d like, The Man Who Loved Only Numbers, a biography of the mathematician Paul Erdos. I also bought her a scientific calculator that did hex, binary, and octal conversions. I wasn’t sure if she had one already, but I kept the receipt and she could exchange it for something she really wanted. Between the two, it was more than I’d wanted to spend, but I’d be careful about what I bought for the next few weeks.

And with that, I was done! Shopping completed. I took my bags and caught the bus home.

My mother was in the kitchen, finishing dinner preparations. “Where did you go? You disappeared right after breakfast.”

“You were caught up in Mindy’s various crises, and I thought I’d seize the opportunity to do some Christmas shopping.”

“You could have taken the car.”

“The bus goes right by the mall and it’s almost as fast. Anyway, I’m all done and don’t need to go back.”

“Right. We’ll be eating soon, so get settled.”

I deposited my packages in my room and washed my hands and face, which were feeling a bit grimy. I heard a yell. “Tom! Dinner’s on the table. Move it!” Mindy. That, too, hadn’t changed. I wonder when she’ll outgrow it?

Dinner was almost too much, like my mother making a subtle statement about what I’d missed by leaving home, even temporarily. I had a little of everything, but there are limits to the capacity of the human stomach. Even my father looked a bit shell-shocked.

Mindy was hurrying, because her mind was elsewhere, mentally cataloging all the things she still had to do to get ready for her party. She was up and gone before my mother could admonish her about good manners and bolting her food.

“He’s coming to pick her up in half an hour,” she said conversationally.

“You mean her boyfriend?”

“Yes, Evan. Nice kid, fairly responsible, seems to have a good heart. Not sure they’re really suited for each other, but she’s happy. For now.”

“Uh-huh,” I said noncommittally.

“So when are you going to see Karen?”

I should have anticipated that, it was the natural segue.

“I haven’t spoken to her yet. She doesn’t get in till later tonight, so we’ve made no plans. Sometime in the next couple of days, probably.”

“Say hello for me.”

Against my better judgment, I’d finally acquiesced a couple of years back to Karen’s suggestion that I invite her to dinner so she could meet my mother and perhaps put an end to the constant interrogation about our relationship.

To my surprise, they had gotten along well, and my mother wound up being very fond of her. So my mother wasn’t just making polite conversation, she really did want to be remembered to Karen.

I helped clear the table and dried dishes as my mother washed them. Mindy had more important things to worry about, of course.

“He should be here any time now,” she said, glancing at the clock above the sink. “You should meet him.”

I did want to get a look at the guy. I had always kept my family off limits to my mental probing. Somehow it had just felt wrong to me. I had no such compunction about checking out young Evan’s agenda, and part of me wanted to make sure that Mindy was thinking logically about what she was willing to do with Evan. I thought she had the good sense not to get herself in a situation she couldn’t control, but hormones sometimes skew our best intentions.

The doorbell interrupted me. My mother untied her apron, dropped it on a kitchen chair and went to the front door. I heard, “Hello, Evan, come in. Mindy will be down shortly.”

I walked into the hall. “Tom, you haven’t met Evan. Evan, this is Tom, Mindy’s brother. I’ll go up and chase Mindy down.”

She left the two of us alone. Evan looked like he wanted to drop through the floor so he wouldn’t have to make conversation.

“So you’re off to a party, I hear. Sounds like fun. Mindy mentioned that you’re in the same school, is that right?”

Evan babbled something, just a string of nervous words, wanting to get this over with. While he stuttered, I walked up the link and looked into his epicenter, trying to find out what his plans were.

The place was a bit disorganized, as I’d always found to be the case in minds that hadn’t yet developed a strong sense of intellectual discipline, of logic and reason. I was surprised to see that he really did find Mindy attractive and was happy to be with her.

The epicenter normally contained only what the person was focused on at the moment, it didn’t hold all thoughts related to the current focus, so I couldn’t see what his future plans were. He was remembering having kissed her, actually playing back the memory because he liked it.

I also got a sense that he was thinking about pushing the boundaries a little further and seeing if he might get a quick feel of her boob, but he wasn’t sure how she’d react so he was still worrying about it. And then it disappeared because Mindy and my mother were coming down the stairs.

Mindy actually did look very nice. I’d never seen her with makeup on before, and it made her look older and much more attractive. Good for her.

Young Evan’s jaw had dropped a bit and I was worried that he might start drooling accidentally, but he gathered himself and took her hand.

“I know it’s not a school night, Evan, but please have her home before midnight, okay? And drive carefully.”

“Yes, Mrs. Carter. Nice to meet you, Tom.”

They closed the door behind them and went down the walk, chatting. My mother asked, “What did you think of him?”

“A bit nervous, not sure what to make of me, but smitten with Mindy. I didn’t get a sense of a lot of depth there, but what is he, seventeen?”

“Not quite yet. Soon. You were older at his age. Intellectually, I mean.”

“I guess. Everyone grows up at a different rate, in different ways.”

“Oh, listen to Doctor Carter! When are you publishing your first book again?”

“You know it’s true. Anyway, they seem to be at about the right stage for each other.”

She shrugged and went off to finish something. I went to my room, closed the door, found a book and read, just to have something to do.

Later, I heard the phone ring. A few minutes later I heard my mother call me. “Tom, phone, it’s Karen.”

I jumped up and grabbed the upstairs extension. My mother heard me pick up and said, “Nice to talk to you, Karen. Drop by if you get a chance.” I heard her hang up.

“Is it really you?”

“Who did you expect, Publisher’s Clearing House announcing that you’d won their sweepstakes?”

“I thought you weren’t getting in till late.”

“I switched to an earlier flight ‘cause there was a cancellation and a seat became available. Anyway, I’ve been home a couple of hours and caught up with my parents. I’m really tired and I’m gonna collapse soon, but I wanted to hear your voice.”

“I’m glad you called. Email’s okay, but it’s not the same, not hearing your voice. Do you have exams after vacation, or are they done?”

“Ours are next month. You said you’d done yours, right?”

“Uh-huh. I think I did okay, but I have nothing to compare it to. It’s nothing like high school.”

“Tell me about it. I’m smart, you know that, but sometimes I feel like a dunce, can’t keep up, and it’s not helped by all the really smart, competitive types that make up most of the student body. I sometimes have second thoughts about coming here.”

“I get that, too. It may be more of a mixed student body where I am, ‘cause there’s a lot of family money that greases the skids for people whose families have sent kids here for generations. The others, without family money, are super bright and compulsively studious. Then there’s me. So I have no idea how I’m doing, other than I probably passed.”

“You’ll be fine. Anyway, I’m tired. I’m going to sleep for twelve hours. We’ll talk more tomorrow when my brain is functioning again. It was nice to hear your voice.”

“Not as nice as it was to hear yours. Till tomorrow. Good night.”

As I hung up the phone, I realized that I had a smile on my face.

I carried that smile to bed where I lay awake awhile thinking about Karen. Oddly, only a few of the memories were of the naked Karen and the things we’d shared. She made me happy regardless of what she was wearing. That thought carried me off to sleep.

I didn’t hear Mindy come home, but she must have since her door was closed when I awoke and went in to brush my teeth. If her experiences were anything like mine, my mother would have stayed up till she got home and grilled her about the evening.

I got dressed and went to the kitchen to make breakfast. My mother came up from the basement where I could hear the washer running.

“I can do that, Tom.”

“It’s already done, nothing more to do.” I’d scrambled a couple of eggs and made toast, and I sat down to eat them.

“Mindy have a good time?” I asked.

“She always does. She likes socializing. I wish she’d be a bit more fond of her books, though, like you were.”

“It may take her longer to find the thing she likes and wants to work at. Not everybody figures it out in high school. Or even in college, for that matter.”

“If that’s meant to be encouragement, it’s not working.”

“Sorry. Maybe I’ll get a chance to talk to her, drop a few hints.”

“Couldn’t hurt. She doesn’t pay that much attention to me or your father when we talk about school and college. It’s like when we start discussing it, a switch gets turned off in her brain and the words just roll off.”

“I’ll see what I can do. I’m gonna have some more coffee.”

She asked me to pour her some, too, and again the interrogation began. It could easily be mistaken for friendly conversation, but this was her thing, she had to know everything. She had almost another month to ask questions, but she was not one to waste an opportunity.

What new friends had I met at school? Tell me more about your roommate. Tell me again, what clubs did you join? What do you take next semester. Which girls have you gone out with? Did you like them? What was your class schedule like?

Et cetera. Et cetera. I humored her for a while. Most of her questions were harmless, and I knew it gave her some vicarious pleasure to hear about my college experiences. But, honestly, it got old fast.

I was saved by a bleary-eyed Mindy stumbling into the kitchen, looking for something to eat. Mom’s eyes locked onto the new prey and I made my escape.

I went upstairs, and to busy myself I wrapped the presents I had bought. I’d bring Karen’s when I went to see her, but I brought the others downstairs to put under the small tree in the corner of the living room. I sat in a chair and looked at it for awhile, remembering Christmases when we were younger and the endless speculation of what surprises were wrapped in those boxes.

Mindy wandered in, looking slightly brighter. “Nice party?” I asked.

“It was fun, lots of people there. Dancing and plenty of food. I made Evan dance so much I about wore him out.”

“Bet he had no idea what he was getting himself into when he asked you out.”

“I’ll have him trained in no time.”

“And more parties scheduled, I’ll bet?”

“I think there’s at least one every night except Christmas Eve and Christmas day. I won’t go to all of them, but they’re there if I want.”

“Don’t run yourself down. You still have to go back to school in another week or so.”

“Yeah, I know. I’ve got some books to read over vacation, too.”

She started on a rant about how unfair it was to have this work to do while she was on vacation, and how it just wasn’t right. Especially Mr. Maloney, in English, who wanted us to read two books, like we have nothing else to do. The nerve of the man.

She was on autopilot now, and could keep this tirade going for a long time, feeding off her own indignation. While she talked, I wondered idly why some people, like Karen and I, for example, could get so wrapped up in classes and assignments, and others, like Mindy and most of my high school friends, were indifferent and avoided it as much as possible,

Why are some people programmed to be introspective and studious? Was it innate, or was it something we learned to do or not do as children? I didn’t have any answers.

Then I started speculating about how I had, in effect, reprogrammed certain learned behaviors — granted, they were learned sexual responses, but it shouldn’t matter — and whether it might be possible to, say, program a positive response, gratification, in order to change behaviors that were self-defeating.

For example, Mindy got bored by her reading assignments, or from doing her math homework. They became tedious tasks to be gotten through as quickly as possible and with as little thought expended as she could. Going through the motions to get it finished, while retaining almost nothing from the process of completing it.

What if she suddenly found that she was getting some satisfaction from having understood something, from having learned something new, from thinking about it in a new way? Would that be a self-perpetuating behavior? Can you program someone to like learning something?

It was true in a sexual sense if they got a rush of physical pleasure from the behavior they had previously avoided. Shouldn’t it also be true in an intellectual sense if they got a feeling of achievement, a sense of pride, at having understood something?

Mindy was still ranting, seeing that I was still there and apparently listening to her complain without looking bored. I found her link and walked it up into her epicenter. I did this tentatively, because this was the first time I’d done it with her. Family had previously been off-limits, a decision I had made soon after I had discovered these talents.