The Pleasure of M (29 page)

He’d
  told
  many
  people
  about
  his
  departure
  but
  had
  generally
  not
  gone
  out
  of
  his
 
way
 to
 do
 so.
 He
 wanted
 to
 be
 methodical
 and
 practical
 about
 leaving
 and
 together
 
with
 wanting
 to
 present
 a
 façade
 of
 strength
 for
 his
 son
 to
 latch
 on
 to
 as
 needed,
 this
 
took
  an
  inordinate
  amount
  of
  energy,
  be
  it
  only
  because
  of
  the
  detailed
  planning
 
required.
  And
  so
  he
  had
  resolved
  to
  be
  rather
  abrupt
  for
  efficiency’s
  sake.
  Closing
 
his
 financial
 accounts
 required
 settling
 all
 outstanding
 bills
 and
 resigning
 any
 long
 
term
 commitments,
 meaning
 that
 he
 was
 getting
 rid
 of
 his
 cell-‐phone,
 closing
 down
 
his
  e-‐mail
  accounts
  and
  getting
  rid
  of
  his
  computer
  equipment
  and
  therefore
 
securely
  wiping
  out
  his
  hard
  drives.
  What
  lay
  ahead
  of
  him
  was
  daunting
  and
  he
 
wanted
 none
 of
 what
 he
 was
 leaving
 behind
 to
 distract
 him
 in
 his
 efforts
 to
 become
 
(once
 again)
 someone
 else.
 He
 felt
 that
 he
 needed
 a
 clean
 break
 in
 order
 to
 gather
 
the
  fortitude
  he
  would
  need.
  He
  felt
  that
  he
  could
  not
  continue
  the
  affair
  and
  not
 
betray
 it
 one
 way
 or
 the
 other.
 

“We
  always
  agreed
  that
  our
  lives
  came
  first
  and
  that
  there
  was
  no
  permanence
  to
 
the
 affair.
 I
 suppose
 that
 I
 fear
 I
 could
 not
 sustain
 it
 from
 the
 confines
 of
 the
 life
 that
 
awaits
  me,
  that
  sooner
  or
  later,
  my
  secret
  would
  be
  discovered,
  and
  it
  is
  a
  chance
 
that
 I
 am
 not
 willing
 to
 take.
 While
 here
 it
 was
 easier
 for
 me
 to
 carry
 on
 without
 risk,
 
but
  this
  will
  no
  longer
  work
  out,
  and
  again,
  distance
  in
  space
  and
  time
  are
  huge
 
factors.
 What
 time
 and
 distance
 separate
 us
 now
 will
 be
 doubled.“
 

He
 tried
 to
 intuit
 if
 she
 would
 be
 very
 upset
 at
 him
 but
 the
 sea
 of
 grief
 upon
 which
 
he
  precariously
  floated
  precluded
  his
  natural
  empathy
  from
  claiming
  such
 
knowledge
 in
 ways
 he
 customarily
 could.
 He
 felt
 great
 sadness
 but
 did
 not
 know
 if
 it
 
was
 truly
 a
 reflection
 of
 what
 she
 would
 feel
 or
 simply
 of
 his
 own
 loss.
 

“I
 hope
 you
 do
 not
 think
 of
 me
 as
 a
 coward
 but
 the
 fear
 will
 make
 me
 point
 out
 that
 a
 
coward
 would
 not
 have
 written
 this
 message.
 I
 am
 weak
 in
 many
 ways
 and
 I
 know
 
some
 of
 these
 weaknesses
 well.
 I
 know
 that
 if
 I
 allow
 our
 affair
 to
 continue,
 then
 it
 
will
 continue
 to
 be
 a
 priority
 in
 my
 life,
 not
 something
 I
 can
 pretend
 to
 myself
 is
 of
 
some
 value
 but
 not
 enough
 so
 to
 distract
 me
 from
 other
 things,
 and
 I
 know
 that
 you
 
would
 continue
 to
 dominate
 my
 thoughts
 for
 hours
 and
 days
 at
 a
 time.
 This
 was
 fine
 
as
 long
 as
 music
 was
 my
 universe,
 but
 no
 longer.”
 

He
  tried
  to
  remember
  if
  she
  had
  ever
  used
  the
  word
  ‘fair’.
  Fairness
  was
  not
 
something
 that
 he
 believed
 in
 particularly,
 as
 he
 had
 concluded
 from
 experience
 that
 
it
  was
  only
  a
  temporary
  construct
  meant
  to
  appease
  the
  jealousies
  of
  the
  more
 
manipulable.
 For
 there
 to
 have
 been
 guilt
 would
 have
 required
 that
 he
 would
 have
 
had
  taken
  advantage
  of
  her
  to
  obtain
  his
  pleasure
  with
  lies
  or
  some
  such
 
transgression,
 none
 of
 which
 was
 remotely
 true
 in
 his
 mind.
 He
 believed
 every
 word
 
she
 had
 ever
 written
 to
 him
 about
 how
 wonderful
 he
 had
 made
 her
 feel.
 But
 he
 had
 
to
  admit
  (out
  of
  fairness?)
  that
  they
  were
  not
  in
  the
  same
  position,
  she
  and
  he,
 
neither
 in
 the
 relationship
 nor
 in
 society,
 space
 or
 life.
 

“I
  am
  not
  Valmont
  and
  you
  are
  certainly
  not
  Merteuil,
  but
  I
  realize
  that
  things
  are
 
easier
 for
 me
 than
 they
 could
 ever
 be
 for
 you
 and
 that
 you
 have
 always
 had
 to
 put
 up
 
a
  façade
  in
  order
  to
  be
  yourself
  whereas
  my
  very
  presence
  in
  this
  country
  is
  a
 
testament
 to
 the
 fact
 that
 I
 am
 not
 bound
 by
 such
 constraints.
 Your
 drive
 and
 your
 
ambition
 require
 that
 you
 be
 an
 outstanding
 member
 of
 your
 community
 and
 your
 
own
  family
  expects
  nothing
  less.
  Everyone
  expects
  you
  to
  be
  devoted,
  whether
  to
 
your
 work,
 to
 your
 family,
 to
 your
 church…
 Up
 until
 now,
 no-‐one
 expected
 me
 to
 be
 
devoted
  to
  much
  of
  anything
  except
  whatever
  I
  chose.
  I
  do
  not
  have
  your
  drive
  or
 
your
 ambition
 but
 life
 has
 mostly
 defined
 them
 for
 me
 and
 I
 am
 fully
 aware
 of
 the
 
irony
 that
 as
 my
 life
 becomes
 in
 a
 sense
 more
 like
 yours
 I
 find
 myself
 unable
 to
 do
 
what
  you
  have
  done
  and
  to
  seek
  escape
  and
  freedom
  in
  our
  relationship.
  My
 
freedom
 was
 real
 and
 my
 affair
 with
 you
 was
 just
 as
 real
 and
 in
 that
 sense
 neither
 of
 
them
 was
 an
 escape,
 though
 maybe
 they
 had
 the
 feel
 of
 an
 escapade.
 I
 will
 never
 see
 
what
  I
  lived
  here
  as
  youthful
  fancies
  though
  they
  are
  now
  the
  vestiges
  of
  a
  youth
 
that
 has
 finally
 escaped
 me
 in
 full.”
 

He
 paused
 to
 ponder
 the
 truth
 of
 what
 he
 had
 just
 written.
 It
 was
 clear
 to
 him
 now
 
that
  he
  had
  come
  to
  America
  with
  no
  real
  expectation
  of
  success
  of
  the
  type
  that
 
music
 can
 offer
 because
 he
 knew
 that
 he
 would
 eventually
 return
 to
 do
 what
 would
 
some
  day
  be
  expected
  of
  him:
  handle
  the
  succession
  when
  his
  father
  passed
  away
 
and
 maintain
 the
 family
 patrimony
 in
 good
 standing
 while
 his
 brother
 continued
 a
 
brilliant
 civil
 service
 career
 that
 precluded
 him
 from
 having
 financial
 involvements.
 
For
  generations
  his
  family
  had
  functioned
  in
  such
  ways
  quite
  successfully
  and
 
Michel
 had
 always
 accepted
 the
 fact
 the
 he
 would
 take
 his
 place
 in
 the
 order
 so
 well
 
defined
  in
  which
  he,
  as
  second
  born
  male,
  was
  the
  intendant
  to
  the
  generation.
 
Catherine
 had
 given
 him
 more
 than
 he
 had
 ever
 hoped
 to
 find
 in
 romance
 and
 this
 
gave
  him
  a
  strange
  sense
  of
  peace
  as
  he
  found
  himself
  embracing
  the
  quickly
 
deepening
 bond
 he
 felt
 to
 his
 roots
 and
 history.
 

“I
  feel
  very
  much
  whole,
  thanks
  to
  you
  and
  the
  gifts
  you
  bestowed
  upon
  me.
  You
 
showed
 for
 me
 a
 desire
 that
 no
 woman
 or
 man
 had
 ever
 shown
 before
 and
 it
 made
 
me
 feel
 resplendent.
 You
 turned
 a
 spark
 that
 lay
 dormant
 in
 me
 into
 a
 flash
 of
 light
 
that
 blinded
 us
 with
 pleasure.
 You
 made
 me
 young
 and
 beautiful
 and
 reckless
 and
 
while
 I
 know
 that
 this
 will
 fade
 in
 me
 as
 I
 myself
 fade
 from
 your
 radiance,
 the
 seeds
 
of
 joy
 you
 have
 sown
 in
 the
 rocky
 soil
 of
 my
 heart
 will
 thrive
 there
 as
 long
 as
 I
 live
 
and
 their
 blooms
 unlike
 me
 will
 never
 grow
 old.
 But
 I
 feel
 now
 as
 an
 adolescent
 boy
 
would
  at
  the
  realization
  that
  the
  long
  summer
  that
  brought
  him
  magic
  and
 
manhood,
 reminiscent
 perhaps
 of
 that
 of
 ‘42,
 is
 now
 drawing
 inexorably
 to
 a
 close.
 
The
 long
 garland
 of
 days
 and
 nights
 somehow
 fused
 into
 one
 moment
 that
 seemed
 
eternal
  is
  vanishing,
  leaving
  in
  its
  place
  a
  chill
  where
  the
  warm
  breeze
  once
  blew
 
and
  the
  mere
  ticking
  of
  a
  tired
  clock
  where
  our
  hearts
  once
  so
  vibrantly
  beat
  in
 
unison.
 Is
 it
 truly
 because
 all
 things
 end
 that
 we
 must
 cherish
 our
 passions?
 I
 cherish
 
you
 and
 always
 will,
 this
 I
 know.”
 

Michel
 fell
 back
 into
 his
 chair
 with
 a
 sigh
 of
 exhaustion
 and
 contemplated
 the
 now
 
rather
 long
 message
 he
 had
 composed
 so
 far
 unsure
 of
 what
 it
 amounted
 to.
 There
 
was
  not
  much
  sense
  of
  direction
  and
  he
  still
  wasn’t
  quite
  sure
  what
  his
  true
 
motivations
  were.
  He
  wanted
  to
  say
  goodbye,
  of
  course,
  but
  more
  than
  that.
  He
 
wanted
 to
 apologize
 without
 apologizing,
 to
 apologize
 for
 having
 to
 leave
 which
 was
 
not
 his
 fault
 and
 for
 choosing
 to
 leave
 her,
 which
 while
 indeed
 his
 choice,
 was
 in
 his
 
mind
 the
 only
 reasonable
 course
 of
 action.
 He
 wanted
 to
 tell
 her
 how
 he
 felt,
 about
 
her,
  about
  leaving
  her,
  about
  loosing
  her…
  He
  wanted
  to
  beg
  her
  not
  to
  hate
  him,
 
plead
 with
 her
 to
 forgive
 whatever
 faults
 she
 might
 think
 his.
 He
 wanted
 absolution.
 

“I
  am
  shutting
  down
  this
  email
  account
  as
  of
  tomorrow
  since
  I
  will
  no
  longer
  be
 
maintaining
 my
 music
 website.
 I
 will
 check
 my
 messages
 one
 last
 time
 before
 I
 do
 
so,
 around
 noon
 my
 time,
 before
 we
 leave
 for
 the
 airport.
 My
 wife
 does
 her
 best
 to
 
hide
 her
 joy
 at
 our
 return,
 just
 as
 I
 try
 to
 hide
 my
 sadness.
 It
 is
 easier
 for
 me
 given
 
the
 grief
 factor.
 But
 I
 am
 rambling
 now
 for
 lack
 of
 courage.
 I
 wish
 you
 happiness
 and
 
above
 all
 pleasure.
 I
 wish
 you
 to
 always
 find
 what
 you
 seek
 and
 much
 more.
 
You
 are
 and
 will
 always
 remain
 my
 muse
 and
 I
 know
 now
 that
 my
 quest
 has
 ended,
 
just
 as
 I
 know
 that
 there
 shall
 never
 be
 another
 woman
 in
 my
 life.