iancaldwell&dustinthomason.theruleoffour-第60部分

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an　into　you　guys？　Maybe　I　wasn't　thinking　straight。〃
　〃Or　maybe　you　were　different　then。〃
　〃Yes；　Tom。　Maybe　I　was。〃
　Silence　falls。　The　first　dimples　of　snow　are　forming　on　the　hood　of　the　Saab。　Somehow；　the　words　amount　to　a　confession。
　〃Look；〃　he　says；　〃I'm　sorry。〃
　〃For　what？〃
　〃I　should've　gone　in　to　see　Charlie　the　first　time。　When　I　saw　you　and　Paul。〃
　〃Forget　it。〃
　〃I'm　stubborn。　I've　always　been　stubborn。〃
　He　emphasizes　always；　as　if　to　say；　Look；　Tom；　some　things　haven't　changed。
　But　everything　has　changed。　In　a　week；　a　day；　an　hour。　Charlie；　then　Paul。　Now；　suddenly；　Gil。
　〃I　don't　know；〃　I　tell　him。
　〃You　don't　know　what？〃
　〃What　you've　been　doing　all　this　time。　Why　everything　is　different。　Jesus；　I　don't　even　know　what　you're　doing　next　year。〃
　From　his　hip　pocket　Gil　produces　his　key　fob　and　unlocks　the　doors。
　〃Let's　go；〃　he　says。　〃Before　we　freeze　to　death。〃
　We　stand　in　the　snow；　alone　in　the　hospital　parking　lot。　The　sun　has　nearly　slipped　off　the　edge　of　the　sky；　introducing　darkness；　giving　everything　the　texture　of　ashes。
　〃Get　in；〃　he　says。　〃Let's　talk。〃
　
　Chapter　25
　
　That　night　I　got　to　know　Gil　again　for　the　first　time；　probably　also　the　last。　He　was　almost　as　charming　as　I　remembered：　funny；　interested；　smart　about　the　things　that　mattered；　smug　about　the　things　that　didn't。　We　drove　back　to　the　room；　Sinatra　playing；　conversation　somehow　never　faltering；　and　before　I　could　even　ask　what　I　was　going　to　wear　to　the　ball；　I　opened　the　door　to　my　bedroom　and　found　a　tuxedo　waiting　for　me　on　a　hanger；　pressed　and　spotless；　with　a　note　clipped　to　the　plastic　garment　bag。　Tom…If　this　doesn't　fit；　you've　shrunk。　…G。　In　the　midst　of　everything　else；　he'd　found　time　to　bring　one　of　my　suits　to　a　rental　shop　and　ask　for　a　tux　of　matching　size。
　〃My　dad　thinks　I　should　take　some　time　off；〃　he　says；　answering　my　question　from　before。　〃Travel　for　a　while。　Europe；　South　America。〃
　It's　strange　to　remember　someone　you've　known　all　along。　It　isn't　like　returning　to　the　home　you　grew　up　in　and　noticing　how　it　left　its　shape　on　you；　how　the　walls　you've　raised　and　the　doors　you've　opened　since　then　have　all　followed　the　design　you　saw　for　the　first　time　there。　It's　closer　to　returning　home　and　seeing　your　mother　or　sister；　who　are　old　enough　not　to　have　grown　since　you　last　saw　them　but　young　enough　not　to　have　aged；　and　realizing　for　the　first　time　how　they　look　to　everyone　else；　how　beautiful　they　would　be　if　you　didn't　know　them；　what　your　father　and　brother…in…law　saw　when　they　judged　them　most　and　knew　them　least。
　〃Honestly？〃　Gil　says。　〃I　haven't　decided。　I'm　not　sure　my　dad's　one　to　give　advice。　The　Saab　was　his　idea；　and　that　was　a　mistake。　He　was　thinking　about　what　he　would've　wanted　at　our　age。　He　talks　to　me　like　I'm　someone　else。〃
　Gil　was　right。　He　is　no　longer　the　freshman　who　let　pants　fly　above　Nassau　Hall。　He's　more　careful　than　that；　more　circumspect。　You　would　see　him　and　think　he　was　world…wise；　self…involved。　The　natural　authority　in　his　speech　and　his　body　language　is　more　pronounced　now；　a　quality　that　Ivy　has　cultivated。　The　clothes　he　wears　are　quieter　by　a　shade；　and　his　hair；　which　was　always　just　long　enough　to　be　noticed；　never　seems　tousled　now。　There　is　a　science　behind　it；　because　you　never　notice　when　it's　been　cut。　He's　put　on　a　touch　of　weight；　which　makes　him　handsome　in　a　different　way；　a　hint　more　staid；　and　the　little　affectations　he　brought　from　Exeter…the　ring　he　wore　on　his　pinky　finger；　the　stud　he　wore　in　his　ear…have　quietly　disappeared。
　〃I　figure　I'll　wait　until　the　last　minute。　I'll　decide　during　graduation…something　spontaneous；　something　unexpected。　Maybe　bee　an　architect。　Maybe　get　back　into　sailing。〃
　Here　he　is；　changing　into　his　clothes；　taking　off　his　wool　pants　in　front　of　me；　not　realizing　what　a　perfect　stranger　I　am；　a　person　this　version　of　himself　has　never　met。　I　realize　I'm　probably　a　stranger　to　myself；　that　I've　never　been　able　to　see　the　person　Katie　waited　for　all　night　last　night；　the　newest　model；　the　up…to…the…minute　me。　There　is　a　riddle　here　somewhere；　a　paradox。　Frogs　and　wells　and　the　curious　case　of　Tom　Sullivan；　who　looked　in　a　mirror　and　saw　the　past。
　〃Man　walks　into　a　bar；〃　Gil　says；　returning　to　an　old　standby。　〃pletely　naked。　And　there's　a　duck　sitting　on　his　head。　The　bartender　says；　'Carl；　there's　something　different　about　you　today。'　The　duck　shakes　his　head　and　says；　'Harry；　you　wouldn't　believe　it　if　I　told　you。'　〃
　I　wonder　why　he　chose　that　joke。　Maybe　he's　been　getting　at　the　same　point　this　entire　time。　We've　all　been　talking　to　him　as　if　he　were　someone　else。　The　Saab　has　been　our　idea　of　him；　and　it　was　our　mistake。　Gil　himself　is　something　unexpected；　something　spontaneous。　An　architect；　a　sailor；　a　duck。
　〃You　know　what　I　was　listening　to　on　the　radio　the　other　day？〃　he　asks。　〃After　Anna　and　I　broke　up？〃
　〃Sinatra。〃　But　I　know　it's　wrong。
　〃Samba；〃　he　tells　me。　〃I　was　scanning　through　the　stations　and　WPRB　was　playing　a　Latin　set。　Something　instrumental；　no　voices。　Great　rhythm。　Amazing　rhythm。〃
　WPRB。　The　campus　radio　station　that　played　Handel's　Messiah　when　women　first　arrived　at　Princeton。　I　remember　Gil　on　the　night　I　first　met　him；　outside　the　bell　tower　at　Nassau　Hall。　He　came　out　of　the　darkness　doing　a　little　rumba　thrust；　saying；　〃Now　shake　it；　baby。　Dance。〃　There　has　always　been　music　about　him；　the　jazz　he's　been　trying　to　play　on　the　piano　since　the　day　we　met。　Maybe　there's　something　old　about　the　new　after　all。
　〃I　don't　miss　her；〃　he　says；　trying　for　the　first　time　to　let　me　in。　〃She　would　put　this　stuff　in　her　hair。　Pomade。　Her　stylist　gave　it　to　her。　You　know　how　it　smells　after　someone　vacuums？　Sort　of　hot　and　clean？〃
　〃Sure。〃
　〃It　was　like　that。　She　must've　blow…dried　it　until　it　burned。　Every　time　she　would　lean　her　head　on　me；　I　would　think；　you　smell　like　my　carpet。〃
　He　is　everywhere　now；　free…associating。
　〃You　know　who　else　smelled　like　that？〃　he　asks。
　〃Who？〃
　〃Think　back。　Freshman　year。〃
　Hot　and　clean。　The　fireplace　in　Rockefeller　es　immediately　to　mind。
　〃Lana　McKnight；〃　I　say。
　He　nods。　〃I　never　knew　how　you　guys　stayed　together　as　long　as　you　did。　The　chemistry　was　so　strange。　Charlie　and　I　used　to　make　bets　about　when　you　two　would　break　up。〃
　〃He　told　me　he　liked　Lana。〃
　〃Remember　the　girl　he　dated　sophomore　year？〃　Gil　says；　already　moving　on。
　〃Charlie？〃
　〃Her　name　was　Sharon；　I　think？〃
　〃With　the　different…colored　eyes？〃
　〃Now；　she　had　great…smelling　hair。　I　remember；　she　used　to　sit　in　our　room　waiting　for　Charlie　to　get　back。　The　whole　room　would　smell　like　this　lotion　my　mom　used　to　wear。　I've　never　known　what　it　was；　but　I　always　loved　it。〃
　It　occurs　to　me　that　Gil　has　only　mentioned　stepmothers　to　me　before；　never　his　real　mother。　The　affection　gives　him　away。
　〃You　know　why　they　broke　up？〃　he　says。
　〃Because　she　dumped　him。〃
　Gil　shakes　his　head。　〃Because　he　got　tired　of　picking　up　after　her。　She　would　leave　things　in　our　room…sweaters；　purses；　anything…and　Charlie　would　have　to　bring　them　back。　He　didn't　realize　it　was　just　a　move。　She　was　giving　him　a　reason　to　visit　her　at　night。　Charlie　just　thought　she　was　a　slob。〃
　I　struggle　with　my　tie；　trying　to　knot　it　between　the　fangs　of　the　collar。　Good　old　Charlie。　Cleanliness　next　to　godliness。
　〃She　didn't　break　up　with　him；〃　Gil　continues。　〃The　girls　who　fall　for　Charlie　never　do。　He　always　breaks　up　with　them。〃
　There　is　a　slight　suggestion　in　his　voice　that　this　is　a　fact　about　Charlie　worth　bearing　in　mind；　an　important　character　trait；　this　fault…finding。　As　if　it　helps　to　explain　the　problems　Gil　has　had　with　him。
　〃He's　a　good　guy；〃　Gil　says；　catching　himself。
　He　seems　content　to　leave　it　at　that。　For　a　second　there　is　no　sound　in　the　room　but　the　friction　of　fabric　against　fabric　as　I　pull　off　the　black　tie　and　begin　again。　Gil　sits　down　on　his　mattress　and　runs　his　fingers　through　his　hair。　He　got　into　that　habit　back　when　his　hair　was　longer。　His　hands　still　haven't　adapted　to　the　change。
　At　last　I　manage　a　knot；　a　sort　of　walnut　with　wings。　I　look　in　the　mirror　and　decide　it's　good　enough。　I　slip　on　my　jacket。　A　perfect　fit；　even　better　than　my　own　suit。
　Gil　is　still　silent；　watching　himself　in　the　mirror；　as　if　his　image　were　a　painting。　Here　we　are；　at　the　end　of　his　presidency。　His　Ivy　farewell。　Tomorrow　the　club　will　be　run　by　next　year's　officers；　the　members　he　created　at　bicker；　and　Gil　will　bee　a　ghost　in　his　own　house。　The　best　of　the　Princeton　he　knew　is　ing　to　an　end。
　〃Hey；〃　I　say；　walking　across　the　foyer　into　his　bedroom。　〃Try　to　have　a　good　time　tonight。〃
　He　doesn't　seem　to　hear　me。　He　places　his　cell　phone　on　its　charger；　watching　the　light　pulse。　〃I　wish　this　wasn't　the　way　things　turned　out；〃　he　says。
　〃Charlie'll　be　okay；〃　I　tell　him。
　But　he　just　eyes　his　jewelry　case；　the　tiny　wooden　chest　where　he　keeps　his　valuables；　and　runs　his　palm　across　the　top；　brushing　off　the　dust。　Everything　in　Charlie's　half　of　the　room　is　old　but　spotless：　a　pair　of　athletic　shoes　from　freshman　year　sits　at　the　edge　of　the　closet；　laces　tucked　in；　last　year's　pair　is　still　being　broken　in　on　weekends。