Scott left the couple alone in the living room. Mildred thought what the hell and leaned her head on Nathan's shoulder. Nathan was frightened, and placed his arm around her as if to comfort rather than caress.
"Have I told you about my collection of photographs?" he asked.
"No," she said.
"I'm trying to incorporate the experiences of seven relatively innocent years into a whole." He waited for a response, but received none except that now he felt her slow pulse in her neck against his shoulder. "I've got a lot of pictures of my little girl and I'm mixing them all up you see." He found that he tensed at the mention of his daughter, not she. "One picture is good enough for me, your see. So I guess I'm really not doing it for myself. I'm trying to communicate my sense of the whole, because I think it would offer solutions to many problems in the world see. Everything feels peaceful at times, and yet still functional. Why can't it be like that all the time I ask myself." Her pulse was slow and sleepy against his shoulder. Scott and Mirna walked in with some drinks. Scott introduced Mirna to Mildred. Mirna sat down by Mildred on the couch and Scott sat in a chair by the pumpkin. Nathan was relieved and anxious to talk to Scott.
"What about the pumpkin old buddy?" he asked. Scott blushed and looked as though he might not speak. Then he said,
"Well, it's a long story. Perhaps it dates back, as I have said, to my father and it is entwined in my relationship with you. The come-up--ance of the whole thing is that I'm going to fuck it."
"You are definitely giving up the idea of farming?" asked Nathan.
"That is not really what I meant, though I have slowly giving up the idea for a long time. The process has been deep, unconscious you might say, and I couldn't talk about it. What I mean is that I'm going to fuck it."
"Everything you mean?" asked Nathan sitting happily on the edge of the couch. He was happy Mildred could hear him converse in simple earthy language about important things, "You mean you are just going to quit worrying about everything and say fuck it. Fuck the works. I see."
By now Mildred was leaning on the edge of the couch herself. She watched Scott intently. Mirna had an aloof, slightly contemptuous look on her face which she directed at Scott. Scott looked subdued and in pain.
"Yes. In a way I'm saying fuck the works, my works. Fuck the things that have hung me up. I'm going to beat them, beat myself sort of. Something must be done. You know that. And I don't know how to tell you this Nathan. I've sort of out you on I guess, unintentionally. I feel bad." Scott felt terrible; he wished he could disappear. "In short, Nathan, I'm going to fuck the pumpkin."
"Come one," said Nathan, half mystified, half ready to laugh, and fully unconscious of Mildred's presence for a moment. "Come on now. What do you mean?"
Mildred took a drink and continued staring in fascination at Scott. Mirna continued looking at him coldly.
"I mean," said Scott, "that I'm a coward, and I have always though that I could get round it by admitting I was a coward. But I can't. I've spent most of my life reading and imagining and talking. This makes me as happy and as sick as most other people are who do their things. But something is pushing me on, or away. I'm getting out of my book bag."
"Yeh," Mirna said a if from a great distance, "He thinks fucking this pumpkin will help. You're really sickening sometimes Scott."
"I know it Mirna, "Scott looked like he might disappear. "But this is the first pitiful step. Something must be done. You know that." He started into bourbon and water. Mildred took a drink. Nathan leaned back in the couch. A brooding expression came across his face and did not leave. Then there was a long silence while Scott stared into bourbon and water and Mirna's face slowly softened.
Later Scott stood up and was at the record player. Some records were put on. Nathan was still silent; he stared at the drapes across the window. Mirna and Mildred sat quietly side by side, their arms touching, and they talked occasionally.
Nathan came almost immediately when he entered Mildred on the couch. She said it didn't matter and that next time would be better. So her rested his head against her breast and she gave herself up the effects of the drinks and the restless darkness.