“How could I keep on longing for him? Well, I could. I knew he had dishonored the power of our bodies by running away. I’d stayed faithful to my beliefs.” A short story by Joan Silber.
Brody had ideas about what clothes I should bring to Arizona. It was early June in New York—not really hot yet—but we’d do better picking up rides if I brought some of the nice things I had that showed my figure. I was a small, skinny girl with a big bust, and he admired the sundress with the plunging neckline and the T-shirt that was tight and orange. Oh, also the ripped jeans with the tear near the crotch. “We have to think ahead,” he said.
Our next rides were guys who just wanted to talk, and Brody made up stories for them. We were going to Arizona so we could work on a date farm. We were going to Arizona to help manage his uncle’s silver mine. We were going to Arizona to work in his grandmother’s hotel and I was going to sing in the hotel’s restaurant. He had me sing for the driver. I could carry a tune O.K., and I did “Home on the Range” and “Muskrat Love” without my voice cracking. I liked this part.
And yet I believed, more than ever, that we were nature’s dearest creatures, its adepts, its glowing initiates. My battered self slept on Brody’s chest. We’d been let out at a bare strip of closed snack joints along the highway. There were two pay phones, and one of them worked. Brody fed it all his change and dialled a number that rang and rang. After what seemed like hours, I heard him say, “Russell? Yeah, it’s me. Really. IHe wanted Russell to come pick us up, wherever we were, but Russell apparently wanted us to hitch to his house. So we stood with our thumbs out, but no vehicle of any kind was stopping at this hour.
Russell said, “Well, the great thing is, this house has a swamp cooler—you know how they work? You’re only sweltering a little, right?”I was still thinking about God and nature. I had my own secret theory, that sexual feeling existed to impress on humans the sense of a beyond, the reality of another plane. There was no other reason for it to be the way it was. I certainly wasn’t going to say any of this to Brody, though I’d once talked to Nini about it.
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