Purity (40 page)

“So what's Toni Field like?” she said.

“Lovely. Talented.”

“She's playing your mom, right?”

“Yes.”

“Was your mom as hot as Toni Field?”

Andreas smiled. “I knew I was going to like you.”

Pip was trying to stay mindful of
asshole
, of
stringing along
. “What's that mean?”

“You ask good questions. You're more angry than careful.”

She didn't know what to say to this.

“I'm tired,” he said. “We'll do your entry interview in the morning.” He drained his espresso cup. “Unless you feel you've had your vacation and just want to go home.”

“Not yet.”

“Good. Come to the barn in the morning.”

When he was gone, Pip went out to the veranda and sat down by Colleen, who was staring at the dark river. The night was warm, and so many frogs were chirping that the wall of their sound was seamless.

“So the cat's back,” Pip said. “Does this mean the mice don't get to play anymore?”

Colleen lit her second cigarette and didn't answer.

“Is it just me,” Pip said, “or are you giving me a weird vibe?”

“I'm sorry,” Colleen said. “Have you ever seen a man ballroom-dancing with a woman who's passed out? I feel like that woman. He moves my arms, he leads me around the floor. My head's flopping like a rag doll's, but I'm doing the usual dance moves. Like everything's OK. Good old Colleen, still running the show.”

“I thought you might be mad at me for something.”

“No. Pure self-absorption.”

This was some consolation to Pip, but not much. She'd alienated all the undark girls by getting closer to Colleen, but Colleen was too dark to get very close to. In little more than two weeks, she'd managed to replicate her social situation in Oakland.

“I thought we could be friends,” she said.

“I'm not worth it.”

“You're the only person here I like.”

“That feeling is fairly mutual,” Colleen said. “But you know what I'm going to do, one of these days, when they least expect it? I'm going to go back to the States and work for a big law firm and marry some dull guy and have kids with him. That's the future I'm postponing.”

“Don't you have to go to law school first?”

“I have a law degree from Yale.”

“Criminy.”

“I keep hanging on here, hoping there's some more interesting existence for me. But there isn't. It's only a matter of time before I go and do the gutless thing. The boring thing.”

“A great job and a family doesn't sound so bad to me.”

“You should do something better with the guts you've got.”

“I don't usually think of myself as having guts.”

“People with guts seldom do.”

They listened to the frogs for a while.

“Can I keep sitting here with you?” Pip said.

“
Criminy
. You're the first person I've ever heard say
criminy
.” Colleen lifted a hand, hesitated, and then patted Pip's hand. “You can keep sitting here.”

In the morning, after an early hike, Pip went looking for Andreas. The tech building, where the boys worked, was powered by a special generator situated in a soundproofing bunker and fueled by a natural gas line, courtesy of the Bolivian government, that branched off a ten-inch pipeline that ran along the ridge. The barn and the other buildings were powered by micro hydroelectric and a field of solar panels halfway up the access road. Andreas was much admired for declining to have a private office. He underscored that the Project was a collective, not a top-down organization, by working on a laptop in the barn's loft, where there were sofas and a kitchenette that anyone could use. Pip picked her way through the panoply of female beauty on the main floor, all the girls mousing and clicking, many of them in pajama bottoms that they would wear all day, and climbed the stairs to the loft.

Andreas was in conference with further girls in pajama bottoms. “Ten minutes,” he said to Pip. “Feel free to join us.”

“No, I'll wait outside.”

Scraps of morning cloud and mist were shredding themselves on the sandstone pinnacles, the sun gaining the upper hand; the world here seemed created afresh every day. Pip sat on the grass and watched a bird with a long forked tail follow the goats, eating flies. It would do this all day; its job and its place in the world were secure. Pedro, crossing the lawn with a chainsaw and one of his sons, gave Pip a friendly wave. He seemed similarly secure.

Andreas came outside and sat down by her. He was wearing good narrow jeans and a close-fitting polo shirt that emphasized the flatness of his belly. “Nice morning,” he said.

“Yah,” Pip said. “The sunlight feels especially disinfectant today.”

“Ha.”

“You know, I've always hated the word
paradise
. I thought it was just stupid born-again-speak for
dead
. But now I'm having to rethink that, a little bit. Like that bird there—”

“Our fork-tailed flycatcher.”

“It seems perfectly contented. I'm starting to think paradise isn't eternal contentment. It's more like there's something eternal about feeling contented. There's no such thing as eternal life, because you're never going to outrun time, but you can still escape time if you're contented, because then time doesn't matter. Does that make any sense?”

“A lot of sense.”

“So I envy animals. Dogs especially, because nothing smells bad to them.”

“I'm glad you like it here,” Andreas said. “Did Colleen get your automatic wire transfers sorted out?”

“Yes, thank you for that. Bankruptcy is being staved off as we speak.”

“So let's talk about what you might do for us.”

“Besides being the resident dogperson? I already told you what I really want. I want to find out who my father is, or at least what my mother's real name is.”

Andreas smiled. “I see how that helps you. But how does it help the Project?”

“No, I know,” Pip said. “I know I have to work.”

“Do you want to be a researcher? There's a lot you could learn from Willow. She's fantastic at finding things.”

“Willow doesn't like me. Actually, nobody here much likes me, except Colleen.”

“I don't believe that.”

“Apparently I'm too sarcastic. I wrinkle my nose at the Kool-Aid. I also talk about smell too much.”

“Nobody here has ill intentions. Every person here is extraordinary in some way.”

“You know, that's the first actually creepy thing you've said to me.”

“How so?”

“If I were in charge of your image management? I'd hire some fat people, some ugly people. I wouldn't set up camp in the most beautiful valley on earth. It gives me the creeps, all this beauty. It makes me not like you.”

Andreas stiffened. “Well, we can't have that, can we.”

“Well, or maybe we can. Maybe not liking you is the way I can be helpful. I'm pretty sure I'm not the only person who'd be creeped out by the scene here. Didn't you tell me you wanted me to help you understand how the world sees you? I can be your personal disliker. I have some real skills in that line.”

“It's funny,” he said. “The more you dislike me, the more I like you.”

“I got that from my last boss, too.”

“There are no bosses here.”

“Oh, please.”

He laughed. “You're right—I'm the boss.”

“Well, and as long as we're being honest, I never paid much attention to your Project. What the world thinks of it is your problem, not mine. I mean, it's nice you wanted me here. But the main reason I came is because Annagret said you could help me answer my questions.”

“You don't admire the Project even a little bit?”

“Maybe I don't understand it yet. I'm sure it's very admirable. But some of your leaks are so small, it's almost like those revenge-on-the-cheating-boyfriend websites.”

“That's a bit harsh, don't you think? We were just discussing a new upload—Australian government emails on the subject of endangered species. Wallabies, parrots. How to pretend to care about protecting them while they sell them out to the ranchers and hunters and mining interests. This is not a trivial leak. But the only way we get it, the only way we remain relevant, is by delivering the goods every day. We have to do the small things to get the big things.”

“I agree that it's too bad about the endangered animals of Australia,” Pip said. “But I'm still smelling something else.”

“Ah, this nose of yours. What exactly is it telling you?”

She thought before she answered. She didn't really want to be his personal disliker—she could see what a tiring and alienating job it would be. She'd come to Bolivia willing to admire the Project; it was mainly the chokingly high admiration levels of the other interns that made her hostile. And yet her hostility did help her stand out from the crowd. It could be a way to gratify her own miserable little ego and be liked by him.

“There was this place,” she said. “This dairy called Moonglow Dairy, near where I lived when I was growing up. I guess it was a real dairy, because they had a lot of cows, but their real money didn't come from selling milk. It came from selling high-quality manure to organic farmers. It was a shit factory pretending to be a milk factory.”

Andreas smiled. “I don't like where you're going with this.”

“Well, you say you're about citizen journalism. You're supposedly in the business of leaks. But isn't your real business—”

“Cow manure?”

“I was going to say fame and adulation. The product is you.”

In the tropics, there was a specific minute in the morning when the sun's warmth stopped being pleasant and turned fierce. But this minute hadn't arrived yet. The perspiration popping out on Andreas's face had come from something else.

“Annagret was right,” he said. “You really are the person I wanted here. You have courage and integrity.”

“I bet you say that to all the girls.”

“Not true.”

“Not to Colleen?”

“Yes, all right.” He nodded slowly, his eyes on the ground. “Maybe to Colleen. Does that make it easier for you to believe me?”

“No. It makes me want to go pack my suitcase. Colleen is totally unhappy.”

“She's been here too long. It's time for her to move on.”

“And now you need a new Colleen? To exploit and string along? Is that the idea?”

“I feel bad for her. But I didn't do anything to her. She wants something I've always been very clear about not being able to give her.”

“That's not how she tells it.”

He raised his eyes and looked at her. “Pip,” he said. “Why don't you like me?”

“It's a fair question.”

“Is it because of Colleen?”

“No.” She could feel her self-control slipping away. “I think I'm just generally hostile these days, especially with men. It's a problem I'm having. Couldn't you tell from my emails?”

“Tone is hard to judge in emails.”

“I was fairly happy here until last night. And now suddenly it's like I'm back in all the shit I tried to run away from. I'm still an angry person with poor impulse control. I'm sure it's great what you're doing for the wallabies and parrots—right on, Sunlight Project. But I'm thinking I should go and pack my suitcase.”

She stood up to leave before she had a full-on outburst.

“I can't stop you,” Andreas said. “All I can do is offer you the truth. Will you sit down again and let me tell you the truth?”

“Unless the truth is very long, I might stay standing up.”

“Sit down,” he said in a much different voice.

She sat down. She was unused to being commanded. She had to admit that it was kind of a relief.

“Here are two true things about fame,” he said. “One is that it's very lonely. The other is that the people around you constantly project themselves onto you. This is part of why it's so lonely. It's as if you're not even there as a person. You're merely an object that people project their idealism onto, or their anger, or what have you. And of course you can't complain, can't even talk about it, because you're the one who wanted to be famous. If you try to talk about it anyway, some angry young woman in Oakland, California, will accuse you of self-pity.”

“I was just calling it like I saw it.”

“Everything conspires to make the famous person ever more alone.”

She was disappointed that his truth had to do with him, not her. “What about Toni Field?” she said. “Do you feel lonely with her? Isn't that why famous people marry each other? To have someone to talk to about the terrible pain of being famous?”

“Toni's an actress. Sleeping with her is a mutually flattering transaction.”

“Wow. Does she know that's how you think about it?”

“We both know the terms of the transaction. Those have been the terms for me with everyone since Annagret. Things were different with Annagret because I was nobody when I met her. It's the reason I trust her. It's the reason I trusted her when she told me we should invite you here.”

“I didn't trust her at all.”

“I know. But she saw something special in you. Not just talent but something else.”

“What does that even
mean
? The more you try to tell me the truth, the weirder this gets.”

“I'm simply asking you to give me a chance. I want you to keep being yourself. Don't project. Try to see me as a person trying to run a business, not some famous older man you're angry with. Take advantage of the opportunity. Give Willow a chance to teach you some research skills.”

“I'm really questioning this Willow idea.”