“I hope it stays this way,” Katie said.
“I’ll just buy it all. Then we can keep it the way we want.”
The roads were lined with stone fences and paved with yellow leaves, and stands sold apple cider and Indian corn and fall flowers. Everything was gold except the sky, and Katie had her head on my shoulder.
We got back to the house and I ordered pizza, just plain peasant food, and when it came thirty minutes later, I tipped the kid a hundred dollars. Katie was giggling like a high-school girl at the fun and adventure of it. We ate our first meal there sitting on the flagstones in the dining room, imagining our lives in that new place, the rulers of the world. That was my third opinion.
I went back out Wednesday to see the progress again. She was spending a huge amount, but no one could do it with better style.
On Thursday I was talking to some division president or other on the phone when Pamela tapped on my door.
“Mrs. Boyer’s on the other line.”
That was not what she called Katie, so it took me a second to realize who she meant. I threw the man overboard and switched lines.
“Hello? Angela?”
“Jason?”
“Yes, I’m here.”
“Jason,” the forlorn voice whimpered. “I won’t be on that board.”
“The foundation? Oh, Angela. Are you sure?”
“I won’t.”
“All right, Angela. Is something wrong?”
Something was wrong. Even Angela was not this erratic.
“I just won’t.”
“That’s fine. Has something happened?”
“Good-bye, Jason.”
It was fine. Completely fine. I slammed the phone down, but only after she’d already hung up. It would spare Nathan a lot of headaches to not have this person to deal with. I called him.
“Yes, Jason? This is Nathan Kern.”
“Nathan, have you talked with Angela?”
“Well… yes… just last night. Did she call you?”
“This moment. She said she would not be on the board.”
Long pause. “What else did she say?”
“That was all.”
Long pause again. “She didn’t say why?”
“No. Did she tell you last night?”
“Well, I talked with her quite a while about the foundation. But she actually seemed quite excited about it. She was very interested.”
“In being on the board?”
“Yes. Absolutely.”
“That’s what she said?”
There was a long pause. “She still hadn’t committed, but after the conversation I was certain she would.”
“So she changed her mind,” I said.
“She gave no reason at all?”
“No. I asked.”
He sighed. “Very well. I will be out of town a few days, over the weekend, at a conference in Washington. I’ll call her when I get back. How strange.”
Exactly.
Not for the first time, Angela had ensured that Katie and I had something to talk about at dinner.
“She didn’t say anything about why?” Katie asked.
“No.”
“I’ll talk to her.”
“It’s okay, really. I don’t want a lunatic on the board.”
“I think she just panicked. She felt she was being pushed too hard. She’s really very fragile.”
I shrugged. “I give up. From now on, I won’t go near her. I obviously cause her great pain.”
“Give her some time.”
“No problem. She can have years if she wants.”
I was tired. At that moment, I’d run out of energy for dealing with people. It had been a long three weeks.
Katie found me in my office later.
“I’m having lunch with her tomorrow.”
“Good for you,” I said. “I think I’m sailing for the weekend.”
“Good.”
“Yeah. A little recreation.” No Fred, no Nathan, no Angela. Even no Katie, just for a weekend.
“You’ve been working very hard. Isn’t it going to rain?”
“That’s okay. I need gloom. It’s good thinking weather.”
“Don’t think too hard.”
“Not too hard.”
“What will you be thinking about?”
“Meaning of life, purpose of existence, what color carpet for the hall upstairs.”
She smiled, a little tightly. “I don’t trust you with any of those.”
“Then you can take care of the carpet.”
“I don’t think you should worry about the others, either.”
“I probably will.”
“Jason.” That was what she didn’t want to happen. “Everything is going very well. Don’t try to make it seem wrong.”
I nodded. “I’m trying to make it seem right.”
16
Friday afternoon, the boat rocking on the waves, and I was alone.
What am I doing here? I ask that question a lot. So was I really serious about answering it?
There was a little haze, and the land twenty miles away was lost in it and the horizon edge of the water was dulled instead of sharp. The sky stretched above it all, blue and endless.
For the first time, at least since college, I had work to do and responsibility. Maybe that would be enough? Do the right thing, get up every morning, go to the office, bring home the paycheck. Works for a lot of people, even if their paycheck doesn’t have so many digits.
Doesn’t work for me. I put up some sail. I wanted to feel motion.
What was the wind in Fred’s sails? Power, pure power; he was addicted. I could try addiction. I had the opportunity, and it wouldn’t take long to get completely devoured. A quick and painless way to go. If I was really considering it, I must already be halfway gone. But I wasn’t ready to give in yet.
Okay, put it on the shelf, but keep it handy. The wind was slowing, and my forward motion with it.
Self preservation. That one was good for dealing with the governor, but it was pretty limited. Ultimately it was just a method of living, not a reason. It felt good, though, and it was a good name for a lot of what I was doing, a better name than anger or revenge or whatever, even if those were more accurate.
My brother, the noted philosopher, suggested just maximizing pleasure. That only works if your pleasures are simple. Basically, it was the same as addiction.
I enjoyed Katie. Coming home to the wife, and someday children, was the big thing for most of those stiffs clogging the freeways at rush hour. It wasn’t a good reason to sell my soul to Melvin’s framework.
What was Katie’s purpose in life? Recently, it had been to spend money, which was very addicting. Somehow, all the reasons were sounding the same.
Was there even a right reason? Did there have to be? Maybe it was my own personal problem that I was never satisfied. But I never was, and that was the only conclusion I could come to in the whole long afternoon.
The wind was gone, but I left the sail up. Something was missing from it all and I was stuck trying to figure it out. So… just forget it all. That would be the answer.
It was dark and I was lost at sea. There were no lights. I shook my head to wake up; I’d never before fallen asleep out from land alone like this. I flipped on the cabin lights, and they didn’t. Nothing. The batteries were dead?
The GPS, the radio, nothing. No power.
At least the flashlight worked. I checked the electrical panel. Both batteries were dead. How long had I been sleeping? Six hours. Long enough for the refrigerator and the lights to drain every little electron.
In the dark, I pulled down the sail so I wouldn’t get blown any farther out. If I’d been going in a straight line, home was behind me. I checked the compass to guess where I was. Lost at sea, basically. The Atlantic is big. I was probably out in it, out of the Sound.
The outboard was too big to start by hand. I tried anyway. The correct procedure was to use the batteries to start the motor, and use the motor to charge the batteries every few hours. Or just don’t run them down.
Oh well. As long as I didn’t get hit by a freighter or a hurricane, I’d make it through the night, and the forecast hadn’t included any hurricanes. Just rain. I still had the sail and the wind, and in the morning light I could find my way home.