"I came down to ask you about the dress," she said. She was wearing a new dress. I knew she didn't come down for that.
"I like it. The color suits you."
"Good I guess I'll buy it then."
We continued to chat mechanically. I've learned how to do that with her. I can think about things. Johnson's boy said his patrol caught a young Vietnamese girl smuggling information in a bamboo shoot inserted in her vagina. She was on the way to the Viet Cong. Gooks he calls them. The Gooks had just murdered some Christian missionaries, so there was considerable ill feeling at the time. His patrol raped the girl. Then they have some guy shove an M-16 up her vagina and keep his finger on the trigger. My wife works for planned parenthood on Thursday afternoons. So soon she said she must be going.
"I do like that dress dear." I told her as she left. She's a good wife. The phone range.
* * * * * *
Scott gave Nathan a call at work, the day before he almost began his new life with the pumpkin. Had it not been for Mirna, he might have ruined his relationship with Nathan. He would have had to tell Nathan he had lied to him about farming, for there would be no more pumpkin. Now he could simply say he changed his mind, which in a weak sort of way was true. He could say he uncovered a string of truths about his relationship with the pumpkin and his father. At any rate his relationship with the pumpkin and his father. At any rate
"Hello."
"Come over tonight Nathan. You've got to see this. I've discovered something."
"What is it Scott?"
"The pumpkin."
"Ah. The pumpkin."
"About 8:30."
"See you then."
Nathan put down the phone and looked out his office window. The sky was bright blue.
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Marcuse at B.U.