An Idol for Others (14 page)

The next morning Walter and David drove back to the garage to get Clara, who appeared transformed, wearing a smart suit, a wide-brimmed hat, a strand of pearls, and gloves. For a moment he had the impression that she was dressed up in her mother’s clothes, but then he decided she looked exactly right, the way Clara Washburn would have to look in the city, expensive and distinguished. He must do something about his clothes as soon as he had some money. He owned only a few well-worn slacks and jackets and one all-purpose suit. They loaded her luggage into the station wagon and set off in high spirits.

Clara had begun to unbend with David. Walter was with the two people he cared for most in the world, and he felt as if his happiness would burst its seams. When it occurred to him that, but for Clara, he would probably be heading back for Rutgers now, he threw back his head and laughed with glee.

The three of them waited at David’s apartment for Walter’s things to be delivered and spent the rest of the afternoon helping him to get settled in his tiny new home. Eventually David fixed an hour for Walter to meet him at the Steelman School the next morning and left them. Clara immediately proposed inaugurating the new bed.

“Later I want you to come home with me and spend the night so I can feel full of you wherever I am.” When they had undressed, she made him stand in front of her while her eyes dropped to his midriff. She put her hands on his shoulders and moved her breasts and belly against him. “Mmm, You feel good.”

He had never expected a girl to be so outspokenly fascinated with his body; she was turning him into a confirmed exhibitionist. He loved hers; but it was the one thing about her he could take for granted and use for their mutual pleasure. He had found no part of it that displeased him. Even the musky smell between her legs, a smell that had made him cringe in the past, was light and clean and agreeable.

“My winter lover has a lovely cock, every bit as nice as my summer lover’s.” She looked up at him with laughter in her eyes. “There’s something extravagant about it, the way I want everything to be. Oh, darling, do let’s be extravagant. I don’t mean money. Everything.”

Later Clara took Walter to her family’s Park Avenue apartment but made it clear that she was doing so only because there was no chance of his being seen.

The Washburn establishment wasn’t what Walter had expected. It was a big duplex with rooms filled with handsome old furniture arranged for comfort rather than display, some of it rather shabby. There was nothing lavish or decorated about it. The pictures on the walls ran to dark portraits and romantic landscapes. It all looked as if it had been there a long time.

“Is this where you grew up?” he asked, standing in the big crowded living room, trying to learn what it could tell him about her and what promises it held for him. He wouldn’t mind the place becoming a sort of home for him in the city.

“Heavens, no. I’ve spent most of the last few years here. Before, it was Cleveland and London and Paris, even Switzerland.” Clara made a little face. “I told you I had this place practically to myself.”

“Cozy for you. How much time actually do you allow your parents to share it with you?”

“Oh, they’re usually here about four or five months of the winter.”

“That’s quite a slice of the winter. Now listen, I don’t insist on getting married as long as your gadget does it’s job; but you’re going to live with me. I’m not going to be your backstreet boy while you stay up at the castle. You can work it out any way you like so long as you keep that in mind.”

She laughed abruptly; her eyes were at their most dangerous. “You look about 15 when you get all bossy and masterful. As it happens, I’ve already decided. I’m going to keep a complete change of clothes at your place. If–”

“Our place.”

“All right, baby, our place. You’d be more convincing if you took your clothes off.”

He realized with a shock that she meant it. “Honestly, Clarry,” he said indignantly. “I’m not a strip artist. I’m talking about something important.”

She approached him and hung on his arm and laughed up at him. “So am I.” She straightened and adopted a more tractable manner. “If you let me finish, you’d see it’s going to be all right. If I have to come home at dawn sometimes, that’s my lookout. You see, we’re not exactly cramped for space here. I come and go without anybody noticing. If I keep up the impression of living here, nobody’ll be any the wiser.”

“I don’t see why it wouldn’t be simpler to tell them about me and get married or at least tell them we’re going to.”

“I’ve told you. I’m not going to marry a nobody. You’re going to have a brilliant career, but it takes time. We’re young. If we let them get their hooks in us now, they’ll turn you into a Washburn. I won’t have it. I want to be Clara Makin.”

“That’s easy. All we have to do is go down to City Hall.”

“At 19 and 20? Try it.”

“That’s true. I keep forgetting. I don’t feel like 19. Are you sure all this hasn’t something to do with my being a dentist’s son?”

“Of course it has. It makes it all the easier for them to turn you into a Washburn.”

“You must think I’m awfully impressionable. What’s being a Washburn like?”

“You’ll find out.” Her laughter was grimly minatory. “It’s not like me, I can assure you.”

Walter persisted. “I can’t quite see it in practical terms. What can they do to me?”

“They’d take you over. Don’t you understand? They’d hate your being a dentist’s son, and you’re not even going to be a college graduate. But at least you’re white and Christian, so they’d think there might be some hope for you. They’d offer you the world on a platter, and you wouldn’t be able to resist. Why should you?”

“Why, indeed? I’d love somebody to offer me the world on a platter.”

“Uhh.” It was a growl of exasperation in her throat. “Look around you. Do you see anything here that interests or stimulates you? The Washburns are patrons of the arts? Ha. They’re patrons of what they know and think is safe. You’re supposed to rescue me from the castle. Get moving.”

Walter threw back his head and laughed. “You’re wonderful, Clarry. I think I’m beginning to understand you. The big difference between us is that I’d like to have a crack at the Washburns to see if I couldn’t beat them at their own game.”

“Fat chance. They’re not at all going to fall in love with you just because I did.”

He held her and kissed her until he could feel her wanting him. He stepped back and put his arm around her waist. “Come on. Show me the rest of the place.”

She leaned back on his arm and looked at him teasingly. “I will if you show me the rest of you. I’d love to see you naked here where we all sit around primly in the evening.”

He withdrew his arm hastily. “Don’t be indecent, Clarry.”

“I mean it. I’d love you to take me here on the floor in front of all of them. This room would never depress me again.”

“You’re mad. What if the maid found us?”

“She won’t, but she’d run like a hare if she did. A naked man! I dare you. I dare you to take me.”

Their eyes met Clara’s blazed with challenge and mocked Walter for his hesitation. She was making the point that she didn’t belong here any more than he did. He shrugged off his jacket, keeping his eyes on hers. She kicked off shoes and laughed.

Once he had started to strip, he threw off his clothes happily, with no trace of self-consciousness. She was definitely turning him into an exhibitionist. He had never felt so naked in his life as in this heavily furnished citadel of Washburn power. He stood there waiting for her, and she surveyed him triumphantly as she disposed of her panties and her bra.

“Lovely. Lovely,” she crowed. “Pan conquers Park Avenue. Now watch, everybody. Clara Washburn is going to be fucked by a beautiful dentist’s son.”

He took her on the floor as she wished. She had never responded with more passionate abandon. He wished that in doing so she didn’t shut him out so firmly from the Washburn world.

He kept his appointment with David the next morning at the extensive premises of the Steelman School just off Sutton Place. David led him into his office distractedly and closed the door. He looked haggard and pale.

“I just had some ghastly news,” he explained. “The police called from the Cove. Philip has hanged himself.”

“Philip?”

“Philip. Philip Vreeland. They found him hanging in the middle of the stage.”

“Philip? Has done what?”

“I know. I can’t get it through my head either.”

Walter sank into a chair. His mouth opened as if he were going to shout, but no sound came. He bowed his head and ground his fists into his eyes. His shoulders heaved once. He dropped his hands and sat staring at the floor, trying to block out memory, shutting his mind to a vision of angelic beauty.

“I’m sorry, Walter. Maybe I should have broken it to you some other way. I didn’t know–”

Tears sprang into Walter’s eyes, and he dashed them away with the back of his hand. He shook his head and looked up. David was sitting opposite him on the other side of his desk. There was a knot in Walter’s throat. He tried to swallow it. “I don’t believe it. Tell me.”

“There’s not much to tell. He’d apparently been living in the dorm since everybody left–well, at least for the last day or so. They found his things there, and a window had been forced. The condition of his–well, you know. They say he did it some time last night.”

A tremor of fear flicked through Walter. “Why? Did he leave a … a note or anything?”

“Nothing’s been found. It made the police suspicious at first, but they’re convinced now it must be suicide. Who knows? I hardly knew him. I told you I had nothing to do with him. He always seemed a bit odd. God knows, he was as queer as they come. Unhappy in love, I suppose.”

“No.” The denial burst from Walter before he could stop it. He lowered his eyes and shook his head again. “I talked to him for a minute during the party. Outside. He thought he was in love with me. He stopped me outside, and he made a point about not being upset with the way things had turned out. No regrets. That sort of thing. He asked me to kiss him good-bye, and I did, you know … well, why not? I–” He raised his eyes and looked at David. “I was nice to him, David. I swear to God I was.”

“I’m sure you were. Poor kid. It seems his face was marked as if he might’ve been hit. Not hard. The police say it could’ve been caused by almost anything, a fall or something. There was no sign of real violence. It’s a straight case of suicide.”

Briefly, in his relief at knowing that Philip hadn’t involved him, all Walter could think of was his own nearly disastrous weakness. Never again. He had known nothing good could come of such temptations. He felt the slim boy’s body in his arms and fought back tears again. “He didn’t sleep at the dorm Saturday night,” he said, trying to make it clear that he was no more than a helpless bystander. “I heard some of the kids talking about it. Maybe the tried to pick somebody up and got into trouble.” He ran a knuckle under his eyes, wiping away the remains of tears. “God, David, this thing of being queer is horrible. If somebody took a swing at him, it could’ve been the last straw, his whole life going down the drain.” Now that shock was passing, Walter felt only a vague sadness for waste and extinguished beauty. They were all too young for tragedy; Philip’s act was an incongruity. His gratitude to Clara dug deeper into him. He had come so close … “We don’t have to tell Clara about this, do we?” he asked.

“I don’t see why we should, but it’s the sort of thing that’s apt to get around. Do you care?”

“It’s not important. It’s just–well, she’s had ideas about you. About me too, as a matter of fact. He was with us that night. It’s nothing I can put my finger on. I just don’t want to talk about it anymore with her. I’m not sure I’d be able to.”

“Yes, well, I’m certainly going to try to keep it quiet. I’ve asked the police to be discreet. We have influence.”

They looked at each other searchingly, confronting each other for the first time without the lift of gaiety. “We’d better talk about things,” Walter said finally. “I mean really talk. No kidding around.”

“I don’t feel like kidding around.”

“I don’t know how queer you are, David. I’m not, but I understand things I’ve maybe pretended not to. I know something might’ve happened with us if you hadn’t turned it into a big joke.”

“And why do you suppose I did that? I don’t believe in guys falling in love with each other. That’s the way I was headed.”

“Maybe me too. What about guys playing around with each other? Don’t you think it’s time to cut it out?”

“I’ve been wondering. I’ve never been faced with a suicide before. It makes you wonder about a lot of things, but it can’t turn me completely straight. I’m double-gaited. If a girl wants me, fine, but not many make it simple. The boys are there. I like playing around with them. I never go near a guy who doesn’t make it clear that he’s ready and willing and is entering into it in the spirit of good clean fun. I’ve given myself till 30; then I’ll find the right girl and get married. You know us Jewish boys. We’re big on family. Meanwhile, I don’t think I’m doing myself or anybody else any harm. God rest Philip, poor kid.”

“You make it sound reasonable, but it scares me. Maybe I’m thinking about myself. I guess I’m afraid it might not be for laughs. What would’ve happened if I’d fallen in love with you?”

“We’ve probably fallen in and out of love with each other several times. Fortunately, we haven’t done it at the same time. If I found myself in bed with you, I’d laugh my head off for the sheer madness of it, and nothing would happen.” David’s teeth flashed. He had talked himself back into reasonably good spirits.

A cloud still darkened Walter’s. He went over the boy’s last words to assure himself that they exonerated him of responsibility. The knot continued to form in his throat. He wanted to be with Clara, he wanted to feel her in his arms to obliterate the memory of a boy who had smiled like an angel in a dream. Clara left no room for dreams.

He was glad when David turned to business. He set up working hours for Walter and made wicked comments about the other personnel of the school. He had a list of groups that might be in the market for Walter’s directorial talents. Walter was about to be launched, if not quite on the dazzling career that awaited him, at least on the mysterious process of making a living.