“That’s him.”
“Great! I’ll leave you two.”
“Will you be okay alone on the street?”
“It’s only a block.”
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome. Don’t lay into him. Make up, huh?” Meg had her overnight case in one hand and the dress draped over her other arm. It must have looked odd, but she didn’t care. She had found Don.
Softly she said, “Hi.”
“Meg?” He looked up in surprise. “What happened?”
She put down her things and sat opposite him. “That’s what I’d like to know, Don. I was waiting there an hour. You didn’t come.”
“I had to get José-Maria a cab. He’s an old man. It shook him up, all that hassle.”
“It didn’t do much for me.”
“I guess not. You didn’t get hurt?”
“Some bruises. If you want to know, Don, I am hurt. Hurt that you went off like that without so much as mentioning it. Did I do something wrong? Was it the dancing?”
“The dancing was fine. Can I get you a drink?”
“Not here. How come I find you sitting alone in a bar?”
“I bought the old man a drink.”
She kept her voice reasonable, but it took an effort. “Don, he isn’t here anymore.”
“I told you, Meg. I put him in a cab.”
“Then you came back here?”
“Uh-huh.”
“But you knew I was still at the concert.”
“Sure. I was coming back. It goes on till twelve-thirty.”
“Swell. What was I supposed to do all that time — read the bulletin board in the Social Science building?”
His eyes were on the TV screen. “You could have joined in the dancing. I don’t claim exclusive rights.”
So that was it. His independence bit. “If you think I would dance with other guys after you escorted me there, you don’t know much about me. Listen, I got the message a long while back that you want to play it cool, at least in public. I haven’t pressured you lately, have I? I just don’t like being abandoned after ... after ... ”
He turned and took hold of her hand. “You’re right. It was a dumb thing to do. I guess I fouled up your whole evening. I’m sorry, Meg. I want to tell you that you were just incredible in the dance. Perfection. You know what the old man said? It was like being back at the feria. That’s the highest compliment he could give. There were tears in his eyes, Meg.”
“He was great on the guitar. It helped. Can we go back now? I’d like to dance?”
He glanced at his watch. “Give me a little longer. There’s plenty of time. You sure you won’t have that drink?”
She couldn’t imagine why this sleazy bar attracted him. “I feel uncomfortable here — dressed like this.”
“Go on back if you want to. I won’t be long. Leave your things. I’ll bring them along.”
He sounded so casual, as if he didn’t know how much the words hurt.
“I don’t want to go out in the street alone.”
“Then stay. I’m not forcing you, am I?”
They sat in silence for a while. She tried to account for his inflexibility. It didn’t seem like a power thing — he wasn’t enjoying her helplessness. Maybe the jostling after the dance had shaken him more than he cared to admit. Maybe he didn’t want to go back among all those people. She wouldn’t think any less of him if he told her. In fact, it would make him seem more approachable.
“I was thinking ... she began, but he put up his hand to silence her.
“Just a minute.”
He was watching the TV screen again. The announcer said, “Next on NBC, the first of a new series on the subject of human fear from Gregory Laz, who brought you the highly praised series Who’s Master? Stay tuned to Channel Four for Never Fear.” The commercials rolled.
“Don, is this the program you were—?”
“Yeah.”
“Is that why you’ve come here — to watch it? But you’re not in it, are you?”
“No.”
“You told me they decided to use Sarah Jor— Oh...” Her body gave a twitch and she couldn’t go on.
“What’s the matter?” he asked. “Okay. Sarah’s in it — just a minute or two of film. This program is the appetizer for the series. They show you clips from all the others. I’m interested to see how she comes over. I work with the girl. I have a right to be interested.”
“You told me you saw the rushes.”
“That’s not the same thing at all.”
She could feel her eyes fill with tears. This was the reason he had walked out on her. He didn’t want to miss Sarah Jordan.
She got to her feet and reached for her case.
“Sit down!” he said, and it sounded to Meg like a snarl. “Don’t act so dumb.”
“Don, you know I can’t watch. I can’t bear to look at a spider.”
“Nuts. This show is supposed to help people like you.”
“I can’t”
“You’re jealous, aren’t you? You think I have something going with Sarah? For Christ’s sake!”
“I’ve had enough!” She opened the case, took out the fan he had given her, and flung it on the table. “You can take your ivory fan, and the damned dress you rented. It’s torn in two places, but since it was your clumsy feet that did it, I’m not worried about it. Thanks, I don’t need you to walk me home. I’d rather take my chances on the streets.”
She slammed the case shut, turned, and ran up the stairs. She waved for a cab and got one immediately.
She didn’t even look around to see if he had followed her.
9
Sarah’s life was almost totally taken up with TV. There was so much expertise and talent around at rehearsals that she could not escape the pressure to make herself worthy of it. Naively she had started out thinking she might keep her research ticking along with an hour or two in the lab each day, but after a week she was in Jerry’s office to say it was impossible. He could not have been kinder. He told her to forget about the project for the rest of the summer. He arranged for another student to take over the daily lab check. Any small anxieties Sarah might have had regarding her replacement’s encounters with Don Rigden were allayed when she met the girl; she was six feet tall and a disciple of the Maharaj Ji.
Sarah spent hours on the web trying to think herself into the role of a spider. The mental jump Havelock had demanded was a leap in the dark. Paradoxically, it would have been easier if she had known less about spiders. If she had been prepared to explain their behavior in human terms, as people generally did, she might have convinced herself and Havelock and the viewers of America. But she could not accept that spiders were calculating or malevolent. Nothing in her studies suggested that their behavior was anything but instinctive. The intricate construction of the orb web was programmed into the behavior of the garden spider by evolution. It was not learned; the young spider separated from its mother would build a perfect web without example or instruction. If difficulties were introduced, it made no intelligent response. Spiders were incapable of choice because they were driven by instinct. They could not “think.”
So the jump was from intelligent to instinctive behavior. She could not make it.
She tried explaining the difficulty to Havelock. He said maybe she was trying too hard. He told her to take the afternoon off, get away from the studio for a while.
It was a Monday. She decided to call on Ed. She had missed the last two therapy sessions with the phobia patients.
She could not have picked a better afternoon to visit. Frank was about to brave the city streets and any dogs that might happen to be on them. His face lit up when Sarah walked in. He was really pleased to see her. So with Sarah on his right and Ed on his left, he stepped out along Park Avenue. They walked three blocks, turned left on East Seventy-ninth, and finished the adventure at the Metropolitan Museum, having passed without mishap two Afghans, a poodle, and a Pomeranian. They congratulated Frank and saw him onto a Madison Avenue bus.