Read What Was I Thinking? Online

Authors: Ellen Gragg

What Was I Thinking? (33 page)

“I see,” he said, quietly, guiding me back to
the chair and pulling his own beside it so we were sitting knee to knee. I
tensed slightly, waiting for him to say that he agreed with his mother.

He didn’t. “I see now why you want to go to
your own time. This is too large for one person to change quickly—certainly
you, or you and I together, could never achieve a change in time for the poor
souls on display this year. That is why I haven’t visited the exposition
grounds since the first time.

“And I think you must not blame yourself too
harshly for trying to ignore behavior that is acceptable now, and not in your
own time. Leaving aside how we might endanger the future by trying to rush its
mores, changes of attitudes take generations, even when some are actively
working for that change. Only look at how many years it’s been since Elizabeth
Cady Stanton began campaigning for woman suffrage, and it will not occur for
many years yet to come.”

“But then what can I do? And how can
I
…” I tried again. “How can your mother, who seems like such
a good, enlightened person, look on untroubled?”

He sighed.
“Because what’s
normal in your own time is normal in your heart, of course.
Look at the
differences you and I feel about physical intimacy.”

I rolled my eyes and he quirked his lips just a
little in a passing smile. “You see? We are both very moral, proper people
in our own times
—and neither of us can
understand the other’s point of view.”

“Yes, but—people in cages! That’s obviously
wrong.”

“Yes it is. But you’re forgetting something
important—mother, like most others today, don’t see people in cages at the
fair. Most see animals—highly evolved apes—in cages there.”

“Bert, you don’t think of it that way,
do
you?
Truly?”

“Truly, I don’t. I wouldn’t lie to you, Addie.
For one thing, I’ve already lost your love to our temporal differences.” He
gestured to my neck, where no locket hung. “What motive could I have to hide
other differences of belief?”

“But if it’s obvious to you, Augusta—” I
couldn’t even begin to form words for it. I wasn’t sure what my question was
anyway, but Bert did.

“It wasn’t obvious to me before I lived in your
time,” he said, gently, watching my face.

I looked at him in horror as he had obviously
expected, but let him continue.

“I lived for three years in a world where
everyone knew that all races were people and I met scientists who looked just
like the ‘barbarians’ and ‘savages’ on display across town. I was very
surprised the first time I met what I thought was a ‘savage’ at the university,
but I looked around and saw that I was the only one who was surprised. I soon
realized that no one thought of the different races as all do today. Even those
considered hateful, ignorant racists would not say some of the things one
overhears at the anthropology exhibit this year.

“Now, I’m a highly educated man, Addie, and
practiced in observing differing cultures. That information was enough to
prompt me to re-examine my own assumptions, and, given time, to realize that
your time has got that part right—though, you must admit, it’s far from perfect
even then.”

“It is, I know but—”

“Yes, I know. I am certainly not trying to tell
you that today’s attitudes are right—only that one need not be evil to accept
them.”

He tried again to make me see. “Do you remember
our first date? We went to the zoo.”

I nodded.

“What if you traveled to 2120 and animals were
citizens, wearing clothing, holding jobs, walking around free? What if you sat
next to a cheetah or a lion on the omnibus?”

“But that’s different. It’s…those
are
animals. And they’re dangerous!”

“And if a visitor from 2120 came with us to the
zoo, how would he react to seeing his accountant’s great-grandfather locked up
on display, with gawkers making rude remarks?”

“Oh, come on!”

“You come on. Aren’t there people even in your
own time who argue that zoos are immoral?”

“Yes, but—Bert, you don’t think I’m awful to
accept zoos? Surely that’s different?”

“Well,
it’s
different
enough that we can let the citizens of the twenty-second century figure it out.
My only point is that you and the cheetahs are like Mother and the Igorot. She
is
a good person, Addie. She just thinks
she’s looking at animals in the zoo.”

“I see.” I
did
see. But I still didn’t know how to live with it, or what I would do, stuck
permanently in this time that didn’t fit.

I sighed, very deeply, and stood. “We really
will be late to supper. We should go.”

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

Part 3: Now What?

 
 
 

Chapter Sixteen

 

Plans

 
 

Augusta looked at us curiously when we arrived,
but asked no questions. She rang for the meal to be served, and we joined her
at the table without troubling to dress for dinner.

When it was over, Bert suggested we take coffee
in his study. I nodded, still feeling worn out from my emotional day, and
Augusta agreed quietly, clearly holding her questions for the privacy of the
third floor.

Betsy followed us up the stairs with the coffee
service and desserts on a large silver tray. When she had gone, Bert locked the
door and called the meeting to order.

He turned to me first. “Addie, if you’ll allow
me, I think I should start by explaining to Mother why you left her so abruptly
this afternoon, and then we should all speak freely to determine, as the
executives say at TAPI, ‘the path forward.’”

I snickered a little, in spite of myself, and
he patted my knee—the libertine!—and turned to Augusta.

Very efficiently, he spelled out all that I had
told him about my reactions to the anthropology exhibit, what we had discussed
about differing assumptions over time, my wish to go home, and the
impossibility of that. Augusta sat quite still as he spoke. She stiffened a
little when she realized that my flight had been a reaction to her, but said
nothing. At the end she was pale and strained, but was able to speak calmly, if
formally.

“I am saddened to know you think ill of me,
Jane Addams. However, you need not leave entirely to avoid me. I will remove
myself to my own home and trouble you no more.”

“Oh, no.
No, please don’t do that!” My
eyes filled with tears again. “I
don’t
think ill of you!” I sniffled loudly and Bert pulled his large handkerchief
from his pocket and passed it to me.

When I had mopped up, I went on. “Augusta, I
ran away because I was so upset with myself. I was very confused at your
reaction because it was not at all what a woman of your character would have in
my own world, but—”
How to say this
?
“Confusion is not contempt. Once Bert made me see why your reaction was
different what I had expected, I am left with disgust only of myself. If you
could forgive me for my initial misunderstanding, I—” A large sob escaped and I
started to shake. “I could really use a friend,” I choked out, burying my face
in the handkerchief.

“There, there.” Augusta’s soft hand patted my
left one where it rested on my lap while my right hand pressed the cloth
against my streaming eyes. She moved over to sit beside me on the sofa and
pulled my head into her shoulder. I clung to her, and surrendered entirely to
the storm of tears and despair. Bert coughed and scooted his chair closer to
pat my back awkwardly.

At last the storm passed, I sat up, still
sniffling like a fool, and mopping at my face with the sodden cloth. Both of
the Rolands pulled back and Augusta pursed her lips at the coffee pot.

“That’s surely gone cold by now, and it’s not
what we need anyway. Pour out whiskey for all of us, won’t you Bert?”

While Bert busied himself with the cut-glass
decanter and glasses on the little table near his wall of books, Augusta turned
to me.
“Now then, dear.
I think we can agree that we
are still friends, and we must decide on a course of action.”

I nodded, still unable to speak, and accepted a
glass from Bert. I had never had whiskey before and its bite was startling, but
after a couple sips I found it comforting.

We talked all night, each frankly setting out
all concerns, expectations, and wishes. Naturally, one of the first items to
tackle was my relationship with Bert. Augusta tried to persuade us that we were
only having the normal friction of courtship, but Bert and I were united, and
she admitted defeat at last.

Just when I thought we could move to the next
item on the agenda, she wailed, “But what’s to become of the baby?”

“What?” Bert and I spoke together.

She colored, but pushed on.
“The
baby.
The laundress told me of Bert’s sheets and here it is past time
for you to bleed again, and you’re not—”

Oh. My.
God.
I felt
myself go red and couldn’t think of a thing to say. I looked helplessly at
Bert.

He handled the situation manfully. “Mother,
there is no baby. Addie told me this very morning that her bleeding started
right on schedule.”

I mouthed “thank you” at him and turned back to
Augusta.

She was staring at me. “But you got up at the
normal time, and walked all over the hot fair. You even ran! I was sure you
would be abed with a cold cloth…”

“Cultural expectations again,” I said with a
smile. “That’s not done at all in my time. Women just—” I looked at Bert and
stopped. “I’ll tell you all about it another time, okay? I think poor Bert has
dealt with this subject enough for one night. Even a hundred years into the
future men don’t like to talk about it.

”But I am definitely not with child and I’m so
very sorry that you know we—I’m sorry you know. I know it’s not something you
could approve of.”

She didn’t answer directly. Frowning slightly,
she asked, “Do you not feel you should marry anyway? Considering…” she waved
vaguely in the direction of the bedroom.

“No.” Bert had answered for me again. “Addie
and I have discussed this thoroughly and we are quite sure that we should not
marry.”

She looked at me, and I nodded. “It would not
be expected at all in my own time.”

“Really!
How—well, I must respect your
wishes, mustn’t I? Still, you’re living in
this
time.”

“Yes, and that’s a hell of a rub,” I said. “I
can’t go back and I clearly can’t keep living like this. I was uncomfortable
enough accepting hospitality and an allowance as Bert’s intended, but as a
stranger—”

“A treasured friend and scientific colleague,”
Bert corrected.

I gave him a grateful smile and went on. “Now
that we’re definitely not going to get married, I can’t keep accepting all of
this. I need a place to live, a way to pay for my living—” Augusta was the one
who interrupted. “But, Addie, you will surely marry soon, if not to Bert, then
to someone else. You could quite properly stay on as my companion until then.”

I shook my head. “It’s a kind offer, but it
wouldn’t work. I think it’s extremely unlikely I could marry at all in this
era,” Augusta made as if to interrupt again, but Bert shook his head at her and
I kept going, “and as much as I value your friendship and appreciate your
hospitality, I need more privacy. It’s one thing to visit you for a few months
while planning to move out. It’s quite another to know it’s permanent.”

This was too much for Augusta. “Do I not
respect your privacy? What have I done to—

“No, no.” I shook my head at her and tried
again. “Remember how we promised always to speak plainly, to avoid cultural
confusions? You have been nothing but courteous and gracious. I have no
complaints at all. It’s just that I am used to living entirely alone.”

“But surely your servants…” She trailed off
when she saw the smile I couldn’t hide.

“I don’t have any servants, Augusta. In fact,
Bert is the only person I ever met who had servants—”

“Mrs. Peacock wasn’t a servant,” he objected.
“Merely a
daily,
and only the one at that. Mother,
they really don’t have servants anymore in the future. Of course,” he went on,
consideringly, “they don’t need them as much, with all the machines they have
to do the work.”

He turned to me. “How would you cook for
yourself today? Mrs. Horner works all day in the kitchen, with help.”

“There is that. I just don’t know. I don’t know
how to arrange a life I can live here and now. But I have to. I need to figure
it out.”

“Okay, then,” said Augusta, and then she broke
off to twinkle at me, proud of her anachronistic phrasing. “Let’s dig out some
notebooks and make some plans. We can list everything Addie needs and needs to
do, and then we’ll puzzle out what she
can
do.”

Other books

Love Drives In by Barbara Cartland
Engaged at the Chatsfield by Melanie Milburne
Devil's Deception by Malek, Doreen Owens
Armada of Antares by Alan Burt Akers
Strange Attractors by Falconer, Kim
The Echo of the Whip by Joseph Flynn
Carried Away (2010) by Deland, Cerise
666 Park Avenue by Gabriella Pierce


readsbookonline.com Copyright 2016 - 2024