The Schopenhauer Cure (45 page)

owe you one...no, I
know
I owe you one."

"Say more." Gill was alert and curious.

"A few months ago I blasted you for never being

present, for being so absent and impersonal that I could not

bear to listen to you. Remember? That was pretty harsh

stuff--"

"Harsh, yes," interrupted Gill, "but necessary. It was

good medicine. It got me started on my path--do you

realize I haven't had a drink since that day?"

"Thanks, but
that's
not what I'm apologizing for--

it's what's happened since. You
have
changed: you've

been
present;
you've been more upfront and more straight with me than anyone else here, and yet I've just been too

self-absorbed to acknowledge you. For that I'm sorry."

Gill accepted the apology. "And what about the

feedback I've given you? Was any of it helpful?"

"Well, your term
chief justice
shook me up for days.

It hit home; it made me think. But the thing that sticks most

in my mind was when you said John refused to leave his

wife not because of cowardice but because he didn't want

to deal with my rage.
That
got to me,
really
got me thinking.

I couldn't get your words out of my mind. And you know

what? I decided you were dead right and John was right to

turn away from me. I lost him not because of
his
deficits but because of mine--he had had enough of me. A few days

ago I picked up the phone, called him, and said these things

to him."

"How'd he take it?"

"Very well--after he picked himself off the floor.

We ended up having a nice amiable talk: catching up,

discussing our courses, mutual students, talking about

doing some joint teaching. It was good. He told me I

sounded different."

"That's great news, Pam," said Julius. "Letting go of

anger is major progress. I agree you've too much

attachment to your hates. I wish we could take an internal

snapshot of this letting-go process for future reference--to

see exactly how you did it."

"It was all nonvolitional. I think your maxim--
strike

when the iron is cold!
--had something to do with it. My feelings about John have cooled enough to step back and

permit rational thought."

"And what about" asked Rebecca, "your attachment

to your Philip-hatred?"

"I think you've never appreciated the monstrous

nature of his actions to me."

"Not true. I felt for you...I
ached
for you when you

first described it--an awful, awful experience. But fifteen

years? Usually things cool in fifteen years. What keeps
this iron red-hot?"

"Last night--during a very light sleep--I was

thinking about my history with Philip and had this image of

reaching into my head and grabbing the entire awful cluster

of thoughts about him and smashing it on the floor. Then I

saw myself bending over, examining the fragments. I could

see his face, his seedy apartment, my soiled youth, my

disillusionment with academic life, I saw my lost friend

Molly--and as I looked at this heap of wreckage I knew

what had happened to me was just...just...unforgivable."

"I remember Philip saying that unforgiving and

unforgivable were two different things," said Stuart.

"Right, Philip?"

Philip nodded.

"Not sure I get that," said Tony.

"Unforgivable," said Philip, "keeps the responsibility

outside of oneself, whereas unforgiving places the

responsibility on one's own refusal to forgive."

Tony nodded. "The difference between taking the

responsibility for what you do or blaming it on someone

else?"

"Precisely," said Philip, "and, as I've heard Julius

say, therapy begins when blame ends and responsibility

emerges."

"Quoting Julius again, Philip, I like it," said Tony.

"You make my words sound better than I do," said

Julius. "And again I experience you drawing closer. I like

that."

Philip smiled almost imperceptibly. When it was

clear he was not planning to respond further, Julius

addressed Pam: "Pam, what are you feeling?"

"To be honest, I'm floored by how hard everyone

struggles to see change in Philip. He picks his nose, and

everyone oohs and aahs. It's a joke how his pompous and

trite remarks arouse such reverence." Mimicking Philip,

she said in a singsong cadence, "Therapy begins when

blame ends and responsibility emerges." Then, in a raised voice: "And what about your responsibility, Philip? Not a goddamn word about it except some bullshit about all your

brain cells changing and therefore it wasn't you who did

anything. No, you weren't there."

After an awkward silence, Rebecca said softly,

"Pam, I want to point out that you are able to forgive.

You've forgiven a lot of things. You said you forgave me

for my excursion into prostitution."

"No victim there--except you," responded Pam

quickly.

"And," continued Rebecca, "we've all taken note of

how you forgave Julius, instantly, for his indiscretions. You

forgave him without knowing or inquiring whether some of

his friends were injured by his actions."

Pam softened her voice. "His wife had just died. He

was in shock. Imagine losing someone you had loved since

high school. Give him a break."

Bonnie pitched in, "You forgave Stuart for his sexual

adventure with a troubled lady and even forgave Gill for

withholding his alcoholism from us for so long. You've

done a lot of forgiving. Why not Philip?"

Pam shook her head. "It's one thing to forgive

someone for an offense to someone else--quite another

thing when you're the victim."

The group listened sympathetically but nonetheless

continued. "And, Pam," said Rebecca, "I forgive you for

trying to make John leave his two young children."

"Me, too," said Gill. "And I'll eventually forgive you

for what you did with Tony here. How about you? Do you

forgive yourself for springing that 'confession day' and

dumping him in public?--that was humiliating."

"I've apologized publicly for not consulting with him

about the confession. I was guilty there of extreme

thoughtlessness."

Gill persisted, "There's something else, though: do

you forgive yourself for using Tony?"

"Using Tony?" said Pam. "I used Tony ? What are you talking about?"

"Seems like your whole relationship was one thing--

and a far more important thing--to him than to you. Seems

like you weren't relating so much to Tony but to others,

perhaps even to Philip, through Tony."

"Oh, Stuart's cockamamie idea--I've never bought

into that," said Pam.

"Used?" interjected Tony. "You think I was used?

No complaints here about that--I'm up for being used like

that any time."

"Come on, Tony," said Rebecca, "stop playing

games. Stop thinking with your little head."

"Little head?"

"Your cock!"

When Tony broke into a big lascivious smile,

Rebecca barked, "You bastard, you knew what I meant!

You just wanted to hear me talk dirty. Get serious, Tony,

we don't have much time left here. You can't really be

saying you weren't affected by what happened with Pam."

Tony stopped smiling, "Well, being suddenly

dumped felt...you know, thrown away. But I'm still

hoping."

"Tony," said Rebecca, "you've still got a lot of work

to do on relating to a woman. Quit begging--it's

demeaning. I hear you saying they can use you in any

goddamned way they want because there's only one thing

you want from them: to get laid. That's belittling

yourself--and them too."

"I didn't think I was using Tony," said Pam.

"Everything felt mutual to me. But, to be honest, at the time

I didn't reflect much. I just acted on automatic pilot."

"As did I, long ago. Automatic pilot," Philip said

softly.

Pam was startled. She looked at Philip for a few

seconds and then gazed downward.

"I have a query for you," said Philip.

When Pam did not look up, he added, "A query

for you, Pam."

Pam raised her head and faced him. Other members

exchanged glances.

"Twenty minutes ago you said ' disillusionment with

academic life.' And yet a few weeks ago you said that

when you applied to grad school, you seriously considered

philosophy, even working on Schopenhauer. If that is so,

then I put this question to you: could I have been that

disastrous a teacher? "

"I never said you were a bad teacher," replied Pam.

"You were one of the best teachers I've ever had."

Astonished, Philip stared hard at her.

"Talk about what you're feeling, Philip," urged

Julius.

When Philip refused to answer, Julius said, "You

remember everything, every word, Pam says. I think she

matters a great deal to you."

Philip remained silent.

Julius turned toward Pam. "I'm thinking about your

words--that Philip was one of the best teachers you ever

had. That must have compounded your sense of

disappointment and betrayal."

"Amen. Thanks, Julius, you're always there."

Stuart repeated her words, "One of the best teachers

you ever had! I'm absolutely floored by that. I'm floored by your saying something so...so generous, to Philip. That's a

huge step."

"Don't make too much of it," said Pam. "Julius hit

the nail on the head: if anything, his being a good teacher

made what he did even more egregious."

Tony, taking to heart Gill's comments about his

relationship with Pam, opened the next meeting by

addressing Pam directly. "This is...like awkward, but I

been holding something back. I want to say that I'm feeling

more bummed out about us than I've admitted. I haven't

done anything wrong to you--you and I were...uh

together...mutual about the sex, and yet now I'm the

person non grata--"

"Per sona non grata," whispered Philip gently.

"Persona non grata." Tony continued, "And I feel

I'm being punished. We're not close anymore, and I guess I

miss that. It seems like we were once friends, then lovers,

and now...it's like...in limbo...nothing...you avoid me.

And Gill's right: getting dumped in public was humiliating

as hell. Right now I get nothing from you--not getting laid,

not being friends."

"Oh Tony, I am so so sorry. I know. I made a

mistake--I--we--should never have done this. It's

awkward for me, too."

"So how about our going back to where we were

before?"

"Back to?"

"Just friends, that's all. Just hanging out after the

group, like all the others do here, except for my buddy,

Philip, who's coming around." Tony reached over and gave

Philip's shoulder an affectionate squeeze. "You know,

talking about the group, your telling me about books, all

that stuff."

"That sounds adult," answered Pam. "And...it would

be a first for me--usually after an affair I make a clean

tumultuous break."

Bonnie volunteered, "I wonder, Pam, if you keep