Pin (12 page)

D
INNER LEFT ME IN A GREAT DEPRESSION
. T
HE FOOD WAS
good, but I hardly ate. What's more, Ursula didn't seem to care. She saw all the food left over, but she didn't mention it. Pin didn't touch very much of his food either. Stan was as charming and as relaxed as a person could be and Pin just sat there like a dumb one and soaked him up. I kicked him in the leg under the table a few times, but he didn't seem to feel it. He was too absorbed in Stan's conversation. I guess I'd have to admit that Stan was a witty guy at the table. He seemed to really enjoy our company. He knew just how to deliver a compliment, and he made Ursula feel like a million bucks. A rosiness came into her cheeks and her eyes sparkled with happiness. They laughed, ate off of each other's forks and
generally acted like two lovesick kids. I was polite and friendly, but not overly exuberant.

No matter what I said to try to throw him off rhythm and make him feel uncomfortable, Stan took it calmly. It was almost as if he expected it of me. Nothing Pin did surprised him either. Any other person would have felt self-conscious about Pin's staring, but he didn't. I caught him looking at Pin a few times, but he wasn't disturbed. He acted as though he had eaten a hundred meals with us. I began to wonder if Ursula had not prepared him in a way. It was a thought that angered me, because in effect that would mean that she conspired against us, Pin and myself.

“I understand your mother is dying,” I said. They were giggling like kids on a merry-go-round. Ursula stopped and looked at me with a smile still on her face. He turned serious and straightened up in the seat. There was a moment's pause. I shot a quick glance at Pin, but he didn't seem to be sharing my satisfaction.

“Yes, she is in a bad way,” he said, very matter-of-factly, I thought. “She's been struggling for health for some time now. It seems hopeless.” Ursula stopped smiling. The heavy note I had set brought the result I was after.

“The country air hasn't helped then?”

“Not really, no.”

“That's too bad,” Pin said. He said it rather low.

“Unfortunate,” I added. “Do you think you might leave the area then?”

“No. We're going to stay. For better or for worse, we're going to stay.” Ursula looked relieved. I played with my fork for a moment and then looked at Pin.

“I think,” I said, “Pin and I will go back to the living room now. You're about finished, aren't you, Pin?”

“Yes.”

“Stan promised to help me with the dishes, didn't you, Stan?” Ursula teased.

“If I didn't, I guess I had better,” he said. They giggled again. I couldn't stand it much longer, so I got up abruptly and pushed Pin away from the table. We went back into the living room and I made a fire. From the way Pin just sat there watching me, I knew that he sensed my uneasiness.

“You're pretty damn quiet tonight,” I told him. “What do you really think of this guy? Is he all Ursula thinks he is?”

“I can't help liking him. You have to admit he's got a lot of personality.”

“I didn't say he didn't have personality, and I didn't exactly say I didn't like him, did I?”

“You're trying not to like him, though, aren't you, Leon? Admit it to me and yourself.”

“I just don't trust people until I get to know them better, that's all. I have the gut feeling that there's something more here than meets the eye. It's hard to put my finger on it.”

“You've got your father's cynicism, that's all.”

“Maybe so,” I said. We sat quietly for a while. I passed him some of the chocolates and ate some myself. Then I made us after-dinner drinks and we sat listening to Ursula and Stan giggling in the kitchen. Occasionally their voices would die down and everything would become completely still. I imagined that they were kissing then.

“This is really the first man Ursula's been with since she had the abortion, isn't it?” Pin said.

“Yes. I suppose it's a good thing.”

“Reluctantly, you do,” Pin said. I had to laugh.

“Maybe I'm just acting like a big, dumb, overprotective brother.”

“Maybe you're just acting like a jealous lover,” Pin said. I was about to reply when they came into the living room.

“Care for an after-dinner drink?” I said. I made one for both of them. Then Ursula said that Stan would like to hear some of my poem.

“I really would,” he said. We were all sitting around the fire drinking. I was in the mood, so I went upstairs and got the most recent two stanzas.

“This was just completed last night,” I began. Pin looked pleased that I had chosen to read those.

“Oh, good,” Ursula said, moving closer to Stan on the couch. “I didn't hear them yet.”

“I suppose I should preface this by telling you that my hero, Testes, a sort of modern day Beowulf, is out to gain immortality by creating as much progeny as he can. He'll make love to anything female in the hopes of impregnating her. At this point, he's fathered one-hundred-and-seventy-three children.”

“Quite a potent guy,” Stan said, looking from me to Ursula.

“Yes, he damn well is,” I said. “In these lines, he's contemplating rape for the first time.”

“Oh, Leon,” Ursula said, “why?”

“He's grown impatient with the courting process. It's too time consuming.” I paused for a moment to be sure she wasn't going to interrupt me anymore and then began.

Gentle cloth night wrapped her bosom in luminous clinging moon. Testes watched from
the alley darkness. She moved through shadows, unaware that his loins were singing. The seed within him grew impatient to be planted in the fertile soil of her womb.

“That's one stanza,” I said. Stan's eyes were big. He looked genuinely involved. Ursula was looking sad.

“Please go on,” Stan said.

The shadows touched her face so that he could not read the lines drawn there. She was nameless but that her name was woman. Her thighs would seize him in the grips of passion. And he would top her in the hope that she would house his name and pass his bloodline into another generation.

I put the paper down and took my seat again. Stan was silent, but he sat leaning forward. Ursula had her hand on his back and she was staring at me. Pin looked very satisfied. I lifted my glass to my lips, but I didn't drink anything.

“Wow,” Stan finally said. “That's powerful stuff. I like it. I really do.” He looked back at Ursula.

“It's gruesome,” she said. “Tonight, it's gruesome. I feel violated myself.” All of us laughed, even Pin.

“You never felt violated before,” I said.

“That's because he was always winning women, one way or another.”

“It's just another means, another way.”

“I like it,” Stan repeated and reached for his drink. “I wouldn't mind hearing more some time.”

“Well,” I said. “My first fan. I might have some
more of this section done tomorrow. You're welcome to join us here any night.”

“Thanks.”

“I won't have you corrupting his mind,” Ursula said, half kiddingly, of course.

We were all quiet for a while. The heat of the fire threw a warm glow over everything. I put on some music and we all had another drink and then another. For the first time that night, I was enjoying myself, feeling relaxed and good. When Stan talked now, he talked to me as well as Ursula. I think it bothered her a little because whenever it looked as though the two of us were going to develop a topic, she would try to change the subject. I suddenly found myself thinking, I like him.

I don't remember how many drinks I finally did have. I got so involved in some conversations that I lost count. Whatever the amount, it eventually put me asleep. I awoke suddenly on the couch. Pin was staring at me in silence. I wiped my eyes and sat up. Ursula and Stan were gone. The record on the stereo must have been scratched because the needle was caught in a groove and the same line was playing over and over. It was half past three in the morning.

“What the hell happened?”

“I think you passed out, more or less.”

“Jesus,” I said, stretching. “What a way to end the evening. That guy must have felt stupid. I just conked out on him, huh?”

“Well, in a way. You began to doze while he and Ursula were dancing. He did pretty well for a guy with a wooden foot, I might add. Don't you remember that?”

“Yes. Vaguely.”

“And then you drifted off.”

“Yeah. You want to go to your room?”

“No,” he said. Sometimes he liked sleeping in that easy chair in the living room. I don't see how it could have been comfortable for that length of time, but he liked it.

“Well, then I guess I'll go up and sleep in a bed.”

“Good night.”

I walked up the stairs quietly, not wanting to wake Ursula. I didn't even put the light on in my room, because I remembered the adjoining door had been opened earlier and I figured it was probably still open. But when I got into the room and sat on the bed to take off my shoes, I saw that the door had been closed. I figured she had closed it expecting that I would put the light on when I came up. I didn't really need it, though, because the moonlight was so bright, it threw a silvery glow over everything. I got undressed quickly and pulled back the covers. Just before I slipped under them, I heard the sound. It puzzled me for a moment, but then I recognized it to be Ursula's bedsprings. My imagination did flip-flops as I quickly envisioned the possible scene. I debated whether or not I should just ignore it and try to sleep, or whether I should go to that door and open it just enough to look into her room.

I experienced anger, but at the same time, a kind of erotic excitement passed through my body. Finally I could contain myself no longer. With exaggerated slow and careful motions, I slipped out of the bed and inched my way to the door. When I got there, I found it wasn't closed all the way after all. Ursula did that deliberately, I thought. It was her way of inviting me. I could hear her moaning softly. I could hear him grunting. So I opened the door further and peered inside. The moonlight illuminated the upper
and lower portions of his naked back. He seemed to have a radiance all his own. Ursula's moving legs and thighs writhed and rubbed against his body. They moved with well-coordinated rhythmic movements. I got hard watching them. When I could take it no longer, I backed away, and then, after a moment's hesitation, closed the door firmly enough so that she would know I had been there. It worked, because they grew silent immediately. I went back to my bed and slipped under the covers, turning my back on the door.

“That damn Pin,” I said aloud, “he didn't tell me. He let me walk up here, while all the while he knew.”

It was the first time that I thought he had done something to deliberately hurt me. It was a part of his personality I hadn't experienced, you see. It was surprising. Perhaps, I thought, the whole thing was funny to him. I would have to lead him to believe that when it came to Ursula and her relationships with other men, nothing was to be treated lightly. It was all very serious. As far as I was concerned, very serious.