Full Circle (19 page)

He smiled. “So I can go back and kill him if you want.”

“Okay. Go ahead.” She laughed for the first time in hours.

“Seriously, I think you need to get it off your chest.”

“No, I don't.” That frightened her more than living with it. She didn't even want to talk about it now.

“He made a pass at you, didn't he?”

“More or less.” She was looking out the window again.

“Tana … talk to me.…”

She turned to him with a wintry smile. “Why?”

“Because I give a damn.” He pulled the car off the road, turned off the ignition, and looked at her. He knew suddenly that he was about to open a door that had been sealed tight, but he knew that for her sake he had to open it. “Tell me what he did to you.”

She stared into Harry's eyes and spoke expression-lessly. She tried to shake her head, but Harry wouldn't let her off the hook, and he gently took her hand as she finally said the words. “He raped me two years ago. Two years ago tomorrow night, in fact. Happy Anniversary.” Harry felt sick.

“What do you mean he raped you? Did you go out with him?”

She shook her head. “No.” Her voice was a whisper at first. “My mother insisted that I go to a party here in Greenwich, at the house. His party. I went with one of his friends, who got drunk and disappeared, and Billy found me wandering around the house. He asked me if I wanted to see the room where my mother worked. And like a complete fool, I said yes, and the next thing I knew he dragged me into his father's bedroom, threw me down on the floor, and beat me up. He raped me and beat me for hours, and then he took me home and cracked up the car.” She slowly began to sob, choking on her own words, feeling them rush out, almost physically, “I had hysterics at the hospital … after the police came … my mother came out … and she wouldn't believe me, she thought I was drunk … and little Billy could do no wrong in her eyes … I tried to tell her another time…” She buried her face in her hands, and Harry pulled her into his arms, and cooed to her the way no one had ever done to him, but listening to her almost broke his heart. It was why she had never gone out with anyone since they'd met, nor with him, why she was so locked up and frightened inside.

“Poor baby … poor Tan.…” He drove her back to the city then, took her to dinner at a quiet place, and then they went back and talked for hours at the Pierre. She knew her mother would be staying in Greenwich again that night. She had been staying there all week, to make sure that everything went all right. And after Harry dropped her off at her house, he wondered if things would change for Tana now, or even if possibly things might change between them. She was the most remarkable girl he had ever met, and if he had let himself, he would have fallen head over heels in love with her. But he had known better for the past two years, and he reminded himself of that now. He didn't want to spoil what they had, for what? A piece of ass? He had plenty of that, and she meant more than that to him. It was still going to take her a long time to heal, if she ever did, and he could help her more as her friend, than trying to meet his own needs by jumping into bed and playing therapist with her.

He called her the next day before he left for the South of France, and he had flowers sent to her the day after that, with a note that read, “Screw the past. You're okay now. Love, H.” And he called her from Europe whenever he thought of it and had the time. His summer was a lot more interesting than hers, and they compared notes when he came back a week before Labor Day, and she finished her job and drove to Cape Cod with him. She was relieved to be out of Durning International at last. It had been a mistake, but she had lived up to her end.

“Any big romances while I was gone?”

“Nope. Remember me? I'm saving it for my wedding night.” But they both knew why now. She was still traumatized by the rape, and they both also knew that she had to get over that. And after talking to him before he left, it seemed a little less painful now. It was finally beginning to heal.

“There won't be a wedding night if you never go out, you jerk.”

“You sound like my mother again.” She smiled. It was so good to see him again.

“How is your mother, by the way?”

“The same. Arthur Durning's devoted slave. It makes me sick. I never want to be like that with anyone.”

He snapped his fingers with a look of despair. “Shit … and I was hoping that…” They both laughed, and the week sped by as it always did when they had a good time, and there was something magical about being together on Cape Cod. But in spite of Harry's hidden feelings for her, they kept the relationship as it had been. And they both went back to their respective schools for their junior year, which seemed to fly by. The following summer Tana stayed in Boston to work, and Harry went to Europe again, and when he came back they went back to Cape Cod, and the easy days were almost over with. They had only one year left before real life set in. And each in his own way, they were trying to keep reality at bay.

“What are you going to do?” she asked him somberly one night. She had finally agreed to date one of his friends, but things were going very slowly and Tana wasn't really interested in him. Secretly, Harry was glad. But he thought that a few superficial dates would do her good.

“He's just not my type.”

“How the hell do you know? You haven't gone out with anyone in three years.”

“From what I can see, that's no loss.”

“Bitch.” He grinned.

“I'm serious. What the hell are we going to do next year? Have you thought about graduate school?”

“God, no! That's all I need. I've had enough of this place to last me the rest of my life. I'm getting the hell out.”

“And doing what?” She had been tormenting herself for the past two months.

“I don't know. I guess I'll stay in the house in London for a while. My father seems to be in South Africa all the time these days so it wouldn't bother him. Maybe Paris … Rome, then I'll come back here. I just want to play, Tan.” And he was running away from something he wanted and knew he couldn't have. Not yet.

“Don't you want to work?” She looked shocked and he roared.

“Why?”

“That's disgusting!”

“What's disgusting about it? The men in my family haven't worked in years. How can I spoil a tradition like that? It would be sacrilege.”

“How can you admit that?”

“Because it's true. They're a bunch of rich, lazy bums. Just like my old man.” But there was more to them than that, especially, him. Much, much more.

“Is that what you want your children to say about you?” She looked horrified.

“Sure, if I'm dumb enough to have any, which I doubt.”

“You sound like me now.”

“God forbid.” They both smiled.

“Seriously, aren't you at least going to pretend to work?”

“Why?”

“Stop saying that.”

“Who cares if I work, Tan? You? Me? My old man? The columnists?”

“Then why did you go to school?”

“I had nothing else to do with myself, and Harvard was fun.”

“Bullshit. You studied your ass off for exams.” She tossed the gold mane over her shoulder with an earnest look. “You've been a good student. What for?”

“Myself. What about you? What are you doing it for?”

“Same thing. But now I don't know what the hell to do.” But two weeks before Christmas, the choice was made for her. Sharon Blake called, and asked her if she would be willing to go on a march with Dr. King. Tana thought about it for a night, and called Sharon back the next day, with a tired smile. “You got me again, kid.”

“Hurray! I knew you would!” She filled Tana in on the details. It was to take place three days before Christmas in Alabama, and it was relatively low risk. It all sounded fine to her, and the two girls chatted like old times. Sharon had never gone back to school, much to her father's chagrin, and she was in love with a young black attorney now. They were talking about getting married in the spring. And Tana was excited for her when she hung up, and she told Harry about the march the following afternoon.

“Your mother's going to have a fit.”

“I don't have to tell her about it for chrissake. She doesn't have to know everything I do.”

“She will when you get arrested again.”

“I'll call you and you can come bail me out.” She was serious and he shook his head.

“I can't. I'll be in Gstaad.”

“Shit.”

“I don't think you should go.”

“I didn't ask you.”

But when the time came, she was in bed with a fever of 102 degrees and a virulent flu. She tried to get up and pack the night before, but she was just too sick, and she called Sharon at the Blake' home in Washington, and Freeman Blake answered the phone.

“You've heard the news, then.…” His voice sounded as though it came from the bottom of a well, and it was filled with gloom.

“What news?”

He couldn't even say the words. He just sat there and cried, and without knowing why, Tana began to cry too. “She's dead … they killed her last night … they shot her … my baby … my little girl.…” He was totally unglued and Tana was sobbing along with him, feeling frightened and hysterical, until Miriam Blake came to the phone. She sounded distraught but she was calmer than her husband had been. She told Tana when the funeral was. And Tana flew to Washington, fever and all, on the morning of Christmas Eve. It had taken that long to get the body home, and Martin Luther King had made arrangements to come and speak about her.

There was national news coverage, press pushing their way into the church, flashbulbs going off in everyone's face, and Freeman Blake was completely undone. He had lost both of his children now, to the same cause, and afterwards, Tana spent a little quiet time with them, with close friends, at their home.

“Do something useful with your life, child.” Freeman Blake looked bleakly at her. “Get married, have kids. Don't do what Sharon did.” He began to cry again, and eventually Dr. King and another friend led him upstairs and it was Miriam who came to sit beside Tana then. Everyone had been crying all day, and for days before, and Tana felt wrung out both from the emotions and the flu.

“I'm so sorry, Mrs. Blake.”

“So am I.…” Her eyes looked like rivers of pain. She had seen it all, but she was still on her feet and always would be. She was that kind of woman, and in some ways Tana admired her. “What are you going to do now, Tana?”

She wasn't sure what Miriam meant. “Go home, I guess.” She was going to catch a late flight that night to spend Christmas with Jean. As usual, Arthur had gone away with friends, and Jean was going to be alone.

“I mean when you finish school.”

“I don't know.”

“Have you ever thought about going into government? That's what this country needs.” Tana smiled, she could almost hear Sharon speaking to her. Here, her daughter had just died, and she was already back at her crusades. It was frightening in some ways, and yet admirable too. “You could go into law. You could change things, Tana. You're that kind of girl.”

“I'm not sure I am.”

“You are. You've got guts. Sharon did too, but she didn't have your kind of mind. In some ways, you're like me.” It was a frightening thought because Tana had always found her cold, and she didn't want to be like that.

“I am?” She looked a little stunned.

“You know what you want, and you go for it.”

Tana smiled. “Sometimes.”

“You didn't even skip a beat when you got kicked out of Green Hill.”

“That was just lucky a friend suggested BU.”

“If he hadn't, you'd have landed on your feet anyway.” She stood up with a small sigh. “Anyway, think about it. There aren't enough lawyers like you, Tan. You're what this country needs.” It was a heady thing to say to a twenty-one-year-old girl, and on the plane home the words echoed in her head, but more than that, she kept seeing Freeman's face, hearing him cry … hearing things Sharon had said to her at Green Hill … the times they had walked into Yolan … the memories flooded her, and she dried her eyes again and again to no avail, and she found herself thinking constantly of the baby Sharon had given up four years before, wondering where he was, what had happened to him. And she wondered if Freeman had been thinking of him too. They had no one left now.

And at the same time, she kept thinking of Miriam's words. This country needs you … she tried the thought on her mother before she went back to school, and Jean Roberts looked horrified.

“Law school? Haven't you been in school for long enough? Are you going to stay there for the rest of your life?”

“Only if it does me some good.”

“Why don't you get a job? You might meet someone that way.”

“Oh for chrissake, never mind.…” It was all she thought about … meet someone … settle down … get married … have kids.… But Harry wasn't much warmer to the idea when she tried it out on him the following week.

“Jesus Christ, why?”

“Why not? It might be interesting, and I might be good at it.” She was getting more excited about it every day, and suddenly it seemed like the right thing to do. It made some sense, gave some purpose to her life. “I'm going to apply to Boalt, at UC Berkeley.” She had already made up her mind. There were two other schools she was going to apply to also, but Boalt was her first choice.

Harry stared at her. “You're serious?”

“Yes.”

“I think you're nuts.”

“Want to come?”

“Hell, no!” He grinned. “I told you. I'm going to play … just kick up my heels.”

“That's a waste of time.”

“I can hardly wait.”

And neither could she. In May she got the word. She'd been accepted at Boalt. They would give her a partial scholarship, and she had already saved the rest.

“I'm on my way.” She grinned at Harry as they sat on the lawn outside her dorm.

“Tan, are you sure?”

“Never more so in my whole life.” The two exchanged a long smile. The road would part for them soon. She went to his graduation at Harvard in June, and cried copiously for him, for herself, for Sharon Blake who was no more, for John F. Kennedy who had been killed seven months before, for the people they had met, and those they never would. An era had come to an end, for them both. And she cried at her own graduation too. As Jean Roberts did, and Arthur Durning had come along. And Harry sat in the back row, pretending to make conquests among the freshman girls.