The Unforgiving Minute (24 page)

embarked toward the Alps. It was snowing lightly and the pines

at the roadside had a Christmas-card look. I switched on the

radio and Christmas music was everywhere. It made me more than a

little homesick and brought back pleasant memories of my

childhood. I was driving in a dreamy reverie when I saw a couple

hitching on the side of the road. Ordinarily, I don’t pick up

hitchhikers but my loneliness was getting the best of me and I

slowed down to look them over. They were young, most likely in

their twenties, and were dressed in ski clothes. Each had a pack

on their back and wore sunglasses. He wore a knit cap and she

wore earmuffs which allowed her long black hair to blow

attractively in the winter wind. I stopped and they both piled

into the back seat of the Mercedes, placing their packs on the

floor.

I quickly found out they were Americans, vacationing for

the Christmas/New Year holiday. Their names were Scott Cleary

and Adelaide Loomer and they lived together in Manhattan. They

were going to the same hotel and would rent skis and boots. They

were hitching to save the exorbitant price of a rented car and

gasoline.

They had removed their glasses and headgear and I looked

them over through the rear-view mirror. He was small and wiry

with an engaging visage which was pleasant but just short of

handsome. She was probably about the same size as he and wore no

makeup, making it difficult to tell if she was plain or pretty.

They wanted to know what I was doing in Europe all alone at

Christmas time. I was so happy to have someone to talk to that I

launched into the whole story, leaving out no details.

“Oh, God, I think that’s so cool,” she said and I could

see the fascination in her eyes.

He just sat there, shaking his head in wonderment while

she kept pressing me for details.

“I dropped out of college when I was nineteen and did a

very similar thing,” she said. “I did the United States and

Mexico, though. I finally got tired of it and went back to

school and graduated. I’m an accountant.”

“Funny,” I chuckled, “you don’t look like my idea of an

accountant. What do you do, Scott?”

He was strangely silent for a while and finally answered.

“I’m an inventor,” he said. “I do kind of odd jobs to

support myself until I can get my inventions perfected.”

“What have you invented?” I asked, and was rewarded with

what seemed like an interminable silence.

“Scott is working on several devices to increase the

efficiency of aircraft engines,” she said proudly.

“Oh,” I said. “Are you an aeronautical engineer?”

“Well, kind of. I’ve been fooling around with aircraft

engines all my life and I did a hitch in the air force. They

gave me some courses and I read a lot of books. Most of all,

though, I have lots of experience. A friend and I have a small

lab at an airfield in New Jersey.”

“That’s great,” I said sincerely. “I’ve always envied

people who could create mechanical things. One of the things

I’ve always wondered about is how I would survive if I were

suddenly cast upon a desert island with all of the natural

resources at my command. I know that I couldn’t create anything

mechanical. It’s always bothered me. I really envy you.”

“That’s really funny,” he said. “I envy you and Addie.

I’m lousy with numbers and letters. I always feel inferior

around people like you.”

“Sometimes,” I said, “I feel utterly useless. Words and

management books sound romantic in today’s world but they seem so

utterly impractical if you put life into its basic sense.”

Adelaide interjected, “It just shows you that no one is

really happy. Everyone wants to be somebody else and is insecure

with himself.”

I quoted something Henry David Thoreau said: “Most men

lead lives of quiet desperation.” I thought as I said this that

it most certainly applied to me, although my desperation could

hardly be called quiet.

“Don’t forget women,” she said. “You men haven’t cornered

the market on desperation yet. I’ve got five years in analysis

to prove it.”

Scott suddenly turned angry. “Just forget the analysis

shit, okay? I’ve had about enough of your neurotic rambling. If

we had half the money you’ve spent on your dumb analyst, we

wouldn’t be hitchhiking. We’d be driving the Mercedes.”

With that, the car became suddenly quiet. She sulked in a

corner of the back seat and he just looked at the scenery going

by. I felt uncomfortable and couldn’t think of anything else to

say. I turned up the radio and American music came over the

airwaves and made me feel just a little homesick. I felt out of

place with this young couple and I wondered whether I had made a

mistake coming to this part of the world on Christmas. I didn’t

want to feel lonely at Christmas. I could remember the

Christmases of my childhood before I came into Julie’s Jewish

world and my ecumenical world which was really a neutral one. We

had a tree which was always decorated with gaily colored baubles

and candy canes. I remembered stealing just enough canes from

the tree so that no one would notice they were gone. All of a

sudden, I missed my parents terribly and tears ran down my face.

I was happy that I was wearing sunglasses. It was so hard to

believe that my parents were dead. Sometimes I would drive by

their old house, the one I grew up in, which had been sold after

their death. I had this feeling that if I got out of the car and

rang the bell, my mother would come to the door, wearing that

incredible smile she always seemed to sport, and hug me as she

always did when I arrived. I guess my crying was audible because

suddenly I felt a cool, soft female hand stroking my neck. I

looked in the mirror and saw Scott fast asleep.

“Are you okay?” she said gently.

“It’s nothing,” I said. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“You’d be surprised; I understand a lot of things. You

look like a person desperately in need of a hug.”

I laughed. “Yeah, I guess that’s it. I need a hug.”

With that, she put her arms around my neck and put her

cheek against mine. She smelled vaguely of something herbal. A

very pleasant smell. Saying nothing, she remained that way for a

long time. All the while I gazed into the mirror looking at

Scott, not wanting a confrontation with this young man who seemed

to be wound tight as a drum. Finally, she kissed me tenderly on

the neck, sending a pleasant tremor through my body and leaned

back into her seat. I looked into the mirror and made eye

contact. We looked into each other’s eyes for a long time. I

had no idea at that time what the looks meant and quickly shook

her from my mind.

The road became extremely narrow and curvy as we ascended

into the Alps. I looked straight ahead and shut off the radio.

Static and interference were affecting my concentration.

Finally, we rolled into the hotel complex. It consisted

of three buildings which were not far from the ski lifts. One

could literally ski to one’s hotel. The day was sunny and

beautiful and I felt a jolt of exhilaration. Christmas was a day

and a half away and the hotel was starting to fill for the

holidays. The lobby was crowded and it took some time to get our

respective room keys. Scott and Addie, after thanking me

politely, went their own way and disappeared to God knows where

in this enormous complex. I fully expected never to see them

again.

My room was pleasant, with a view of the mountains and a

window that was quite large. I had it fully opened and breathed

in the cool mountain air while the warm sun bathed the room in

light. The bed was single size and there were two of them in the

room. I sat on the mattress and was immediately disappointed.

Like most European hotels that are not rated Deluxe the mattress

was saggy, lumpy, and not to the American taste. I had lived

with beds like this before and it wasn’t really any big deal.

The bathroom was larger than I expected. There was a large

bathtub with a hand-held shower and no shower curtain. There was

a toilet and a bidet and a sink that was large and deep. There

was a glass shelf above the sink, on which I laid out my toilet

articles. There were two large bath towels hanging on a heated

rack and a small package of nondescript soap. Luckily, as I

always did, I came with my own large bar of soap.

I filled the bathtub with hot water. It was very deep and

I looked forward to steeping myself for a long time and then

having a good nap. If I awakened in time, there was still time

to arrange for my ski and boot rental. If not, I could do it in

the morning.

I sat slowly in the tub, getting used to the hot water,

and finally settled comfortably in. It was about three in the

afternoon and dinner would be about seven. I was a little hungry

and thought that after my nap I might go to the hotel bar for a

Bloody Mary. I lingered in the bath for the best part of an

hour, soaping myself luxuriously and adding hot water as the bath

turned lukewarm. I finally emerged, dried myself and crawled,

naked, under the covers of one of the beds.

I don’t know how long I was sleeping when I was awakened

by a knocking on my door. I got out of bed, holding the bath

towel around my waist and opened the door. Addie stood there,

her hair hanging straight and wet as if she had just emerged from

the shower. She was wearing a black turtleneck sweater and a

pair of faded jeans.

“I have to see you,” she said. The look on her face was

that of a little girl who was about to cry. She wore no makeup

and her face was cleanly scrubbed. Except for her woman’s body,

she really did look like a little girl.

“Sure, come on in.” I was puzzled as to what the urgency

of this visit was. I excused myself momentarily and went into

the bathroom and slipped on a robe. I brushed my hair and took a

swig of mouthwash and returned to the room. She was sitting on

the one chair provided with the room. I sat on the edge of the

bed and waited for her to speak. She sat there silently for what

seemed like a long time. Finally, she spoke.

“I’m so unhappy, I feel like I’m going to crack. You

don’t have anything to drink, do you?”

I went to my closet and brought out my bottle of single—

malt Scotch and returned to the bathroom and filled two plastic

glasses with about three fingers of the amber liquid.

“Thanks,” she said gratefully and sipped hers delicately

before speaking again. I tipped my glass and the whiskey felt

good going down. The soft warm breeze that blew in from the

window was now cold and I walked over and closed the window. The

only light on was in the bathroom and the impending twilight gave

the room an ethereal look.

She looked at me with her large, dark eyes. “I don’t

really know why, but when I talked to you in the car this

afternoon, I found someone I could really lean on. I’ve been

with Scott a long time and it only gets worse. I mean … he’s

okay … he doesn’t beat me or anything like that but he has no

idea of how to comfort me when I’m down. He laughs at my shrink

but gives me no love in the mental sense. I can’t live on sex

alone. I need a hug too. You understood the concept of needing

a hug. Well, I need a hug and I can’t get it from him. Will you

give me a hug?”

I was at a loss to react. “Where is Scott now?” I said.

“He’s sleeping and, the way he sleeps, he’s out for the

night.”

She got up from the chair and walked over to me. I sat on

the edge of the bed, dumbfounded. She put her arms around my

neck and pressed her cheek to mine. I put one hand on her back

and patted it gently. I couldn’t think of anything to say, so I

said, “There, there,” which immediately sounded stupid to me. I

hadn’t had sex since Budapest and I hadn’t had sex with affection

since Switzerland, so I found myself becoming aroused, even

though I was trying to be fatherly to this girl who was at least

thirty years younger than I. She put her hand on my bare chest

and gently ran her slender fingers through the hair, all the

while kissing my neck and cheeks. I gently pushed her away.

“Addie, I’m only human, you know. If you don’t go away, I won’t

be able to keep my hands off you.”

She moved away and stood momentarily facing me. By this

time, the room was dark, save for the bathroom light. She raised

the sweater over her head and dropped the jeans. She was naked

underneath. I looked at her perfect body, with large globular

breasts, standing before me, with the light from the bathroom

highlighting every curve. I removed my robe and pulled her down,

kissing her tenderly on the lips. It was a long time before I

spoke.

“Did you really come here just for a hug?” I said as I

ran my hands down her back and over her smooth buttocks.

“I really thought so,” she said. “Up until the time I

went to get dressed when I got out of the shower. That was when