Maya's lesson
Maya
Mr Kozlowski is well known in Belmont for being the only English teacher who isn't actually English, which makes him the source of derision for many of the students. But his command over English is as good as any native, with just a slight lilt to his accent to indicate that he isn't one. He's walking us through Hamlet, only unlike Lochan, who must have every word of that book memorised, I couldn't be any less interested in Shakespeare. Francie is sitting beside me, in a rare streak of silence that I'm surprised has lasted as long as it has; perhaps she too has been bored to death. Then something Mr Kozlowski says catches my attention and makes me lift my head out of my desk:
"One of the themes we see going on throughout the book is incest, and incestuous desire, particularly when it comes to Hamlet's fixation upon Gertrude -"
I pale, but I try to hide it as Francie is sitting up too now, no doubt roused by my sudden alertness. But I can only guess that she didn't notice, because when she turns to me, she just says:
"People were strange back then, huh?"
Calm down, Maya, don't draw attention to yourself now. But I can only think of Lochan, all the kisses we have shared behind locked doors, all the times we have longed to touch one another, to hold each other's hand or cuddle one another; and we can't because that's the kind of society we live in, where that kind of thing is an absolute no-go area. Incest is wrong, and that's an unshakable, undoubtable truth - at least, according to society. It's not the kind of thing that has to be taught to us either; evolution has ensured that there is some part of our brains that steers us away from having incestuous thoughts, causes us to blanche at the very idea. And it's this kind of taboo that causes people like Francie, who would never mean harm to anyone, to say things like that. So I can't blame her, I just can't, but I need someone to blame for the force that keeps me apart from the one person I truly love.
I realise I haven't replied to Francie, so I collect myself and say in a low voice back:
"What makes you say that?" Francie is mystified.
"That kind of thing was encouraged back then, wasn't it? You know, people from the same family actually having relationships," she shudders.
"But what if they were actually in love? Shouldn't we just let them be if they're not hurting each other?" I press.
"Eww, no. It's just so fucking weird."
I think back to our conversation a few weeks ago, where she said that if two people are in love then nothing should be allowed to stop them. It hasn't even occurred to her. Nor would it to anyone. But I can't insist the point or she'll start to get suspicious, and when Francie wants to find out something, she'll find it out. So I return to my desk, staring impassively down at the lines and contours of the wood. If there's anything I learned from this lesson, it's that society will never learn, will never listen to reason.