It was aesthetically unpleasant work, but I was familiar with the necessary mindset from dissecting mice and the intellectual stimulation exceeded the unpleasantness. It was so interesting!
Gene talked with Ben. Dave, who was not feeling well, sat in the taxi.
‘All right,’ said Lauren. ‘We’re going to need the tractor.’
Lauren reached inside the cow and explained that she was attaching a chain to the unborn calf’s feet. George gave the light to Gene and began talking to the mother, who was making noises indicating distress.
Ben attached the other end of the chain to the tractor, and the pulling process began. In a human birth, forceps would have taken the place of the tractor. Or—more likely—a caesarean would have been performed. Nevertheless there were numerous anatomical similarities, and the three-dimensional experience was invaluable.
‘All right, Don. You’re going to have to help me catch it.’ Fortunately ‘catching’ did not require the coordination of catching a ball—Lauren and I merely had to take the weight of the calf as it emerged. It did, along with vast quantities of fluid, drenching both of us. It was extremely slippery but we managed to avoid dropping it. One leg was at an odd angle, but the calf began breathing. The mother was still standing.
‘Broken leg,’ said Lauren. ‘What do you want to do?’
‘What do you think?’ said Ben.
‘I’m afraid it’s probably best to put it down, unless you want to hand feed it.’
Dave staggered from the taxi. ‘Don’t shoot it. I’ll take it home if I have to.’
My immediate thought was that this was a brilliant idea. Dave and Sonia’s baby would have its immune system strengthened by cohabiting with a farm animal. But a moment’s reflection revealed multiple problems with raising a lame calf in a New York apartment.
Ben smiled. ‘I owe you guys. What’s your name, again?’
‘Dave.’
‘Okay, Dave, meet Dave the calf. He owes you his life. And Lauren—all you guys. My wife’ll feed him. She’ll curse you every day.’
24
After making a phone call for advice, George commanded the taxi to detour via a bar in White Plains. It was 10.35 p.m. and we had not eaten. I was wearing clothes lent to me by Ben the Farmer to replace those soaked during the delivery of Dave the Calf.
‘Beer tonight,’ said George. He ordered four. We drank them rapidly and George ordered more.
‘I’ll let you in on a secret,’ he said. ‘Looking after that poor cow was good karma. Made up a wee bit for not being at the birth of my first kid.’
‘The one with the thrifty mother?’ said Gene.
‘That’s the one. I was on the road.’ He paused. ‘They rang the hotel and I was with a groupie. That’s the way it was back then.’
I was amazed. ‘You were having sex with another woman while your wife gave birth to your son?’
‘How did you know it was a boy?’
‘You mentioned it earlier. And it’s on the internet.’
‘I’ve got no bloody secrets. Except what I just told you.’
‘We should all share a secret,’ said Gene. ‘One each. Tell us one of yours, Don.’
‘A secret?’ In the sixteen weeks since the Playground Incident, I had accumulated multiple secrets, but it seemed unwise to disclose any after drinking beer. Conversely, George’s decision to share an example of morally repugnant behaviour seemed to be a gesture of friendship, allowing each of us to disclose something immoral or illegal and receive advice from the others, knowing that our behaviour was unlikely to be as shameful as George’s. It was a subtle social manoeuvre, but my analysis had taken some time.
‘I’ll go first, then,’ said Gene. ‘But this goes no further, all right?’
George made us perform a ludicrous four-handed handshake.
‘Guess how many women I’ve slept with.’
‘Less than me,’ said George. ‘If you can count them, it’s less than me.’
‘More than me,’ I said.
Gene laughed. ‘Go on.’
I remembered Gene’s map, with a pin for each nationality. I allowed for a further fifty per cent to accommodate multiple women of the same origin and more recent conquests.
‘Thirty-six.’
‘Way off.’ Gene drank some more beer, then held up an open hand. ‘Five.’
I was astonished. Was Gene lying? It was a reasonable hypothesis, given that, if he was not lying now, he must have lied repeatedly in the past. Perhaps, being unable to compete with George for the highest total, he was aiming to be the least promiscuous.
Dave also appeared astonished. Astonishment was the appropriate reaction. ‘Five?’ he said. ‘I mean, that’s—’
‘—less than you, right?’ Gene was smiling.
‘I don’t cheat on my wife, but—’
It was only four more than me! ‘What about the open marriage? What about the map?’
‘The open marriage never got off the ground. The first woman had issues. Bunny-boiling types of issues. I had enough of that with my first wife.’
‘Game isn’t worth the candle,’ said George.
‘Not at this age, anyway,’ said Gene.
‘What about the map?’ I asked—again. There were twenty-four pins in Gene’s map before he had temporarily reformed and pulled it down. ‘What about Icelandic Woman?’
‘I buy dinner. If they’re up for having dinner one-on-one, I reckon that’s a date. You don’t go out to dinner by yourself with a married man unless you’re up for it. The rest would follow if I wanted it to.’
This was incredible. The consequences of Gene lying to make his behaviour appear worse than it was had been disastrous. I pointed out the obvious.
‘Claudia threw you out because you admitted to having sex with Icelandic Woman. But you only purchased dinner. Correct?’
‘Actually, I had to fight her off. She was—what is it you say, George?’
‘No Jerry Hall?’
Gene laughed.
I brought the discussion back on track. ‘So tell Claudia the truth and she’ll accept you back. All problems solved.’
‘It’s not as easy as that.’
‘Why not?’
We all looked at Gene. Nobody spoke. We were acting like therapists. I was wishing that I could fix the Rosie problem simply by telling the truth.
‘I doubt Claudia would have any interest in me if I wasn’t who she thinks I am. It’s part of why she’s attracted to me.’
‘She’s attracted to you because you cheat?’ I said. ‘All theories…your theories—’
‘Women like men who can attract other women. They need to be reminded that they’ve got someone other women want. Look at George. All that form didn’t stop you finding three more wives.’
‘If I hadn’t had the form, maybe I could have got by with one. But Don’s got a fair point—there’s nothing to lose by coming clean.’
‘It’s deeper than that. We let it go too long, till it was past saving. If I look back, it was after Eugenie was born. I started playing the game, even if I didn’t take it all the way. You can’t neglect a marriage for nine years and expect to go back. Anyway, I’ve found someone else.’