Chapter Nine

During his childhood, Bobby Goren developed an ability to detach from and observe the world. This ability allowed him to avoid and survive some of the dangerous storms in his young life, and, for better and worse, it remained with him. Even as he yanked a raging Tony Mantello off his friend Lewis outside of the high school gym, Bobby's brain knew that Tony wasn't going after Lewis as much as he was trying to deal with the beating Mr. Mantello gave his son that morning. When the sergeants in boot camp yelled and screamed at him, Bobby's brain quietly observed the process as part of making him a soldier. When he got into his first tight spot leading his own squad, his brain again stepped aside and watched and learned and responded, just as it did when he was nine and hiding from his father and when he was twelve and trying to calm his agitated mother.

Bobby occasionally wondered what would happen to that detachment if he ever became involved with another person. He'd seen plenty of cases where people's IQs dropped several points when they fell in what they called love. In high school he'd watched as the smartest girl in school threw away a college scholarship for a guy everyone agreed was a jerk. Lewis regularly made a fool of himself over any blonde who appeared on his radar. His family offered plenty examples of disasters. Bobby couldn't understand why women flocked to his brother and his father in spite of all of the warning signs around them. And he was frequently baffled by why his mother—a funny, intelligent, sensitive woman before the demons took her—even said hello to his father. Bobby's observations led him to believe love wasn't as wonderful as all the songs and poems proclaimed it.

He wasn't sure if he loved Marlene, but whatever his feelings were they further focused his already sharp mind. He lived for the moments he spent with Marlene, but those seemed to clear the other hours in the day. His life was a cycle of Marlene, work, study, Marlene. In spite of Marlene's invasion of his thoughts, everything was clearer and sharper. For the first time he seriously weighed his superiors' suggestions that he consider officer candidate school. Even the letters from his brother and his mother hurt less with the knowledge he could disappear into Marlene's arms.

He received some grief from his fellow soldiers. His roommate Josh knew something about Marlene; while he approved of Bobby's acquisition of a private life, he gently warned him, "Don't fall too hard, kid." (Bobby replied, "It's too late. I'm halfway down the well.") In spite of the questions and ribbings from others, Bobby remained vague about just what he did when he went away from the base.

"A gentleman," he said to a group one day, "doesn't talk."

A chorus of whistles and hoots greeted his words.

"C'mon," Bobby said with a grin. "First, you ride me 'cause I don't go on leave…now you ride me 'cause I do…give me a break, guys."

He didn't just exist now; he lived. Things he'd seen before were suddenly new because he saw them with Marlene. They explored everything they could in the city and area near the base, occasionally venturing into places neither would have explore on his or her own. They went to concerts—with Marlene discovering the blues—the opera—where Bobby found his initial dislike of Wagner moved to a passionate desire to avoid it—plays, films, and museums. He developed a taste for modern art which amused her. Her knowledge of American slang improved immensely, as did his ability to conjugate German verbs.

He was happy, a feeling alien to him, and he couldn't understand why Marlene was with him. She was beautiful—beautiful in a way that caused men and some women to turn and look at her—incredibly intelligent, and, from his perspective, sophisticated and elegant. "She has to teach me everything," Bobby thought one morning as his fingers traced small patterns on her naked back. "Even here…it means so much to me…but why…she could have anyone…why a stupid kid?"

"Hey." Marlene turned in his arms. "What are you thinking about?"

He smiled at her. "You…I'm usually thinking about you."

She rose on an elbow to look at him. "I hope…they're good thoughts…"

Bobby reached to touch her chin. "Oh, yes…my thoughts about you are always good."

"It's just…Sometimes you seem so far away…"

"It's just…so wonderful…" Bobby whispered. "I…wonder…why…why me? You…you could have anyone…"

Marlene gently pushed him on his back. "Because," she said as if she was talking to a child. "You've smart and kind…and very cute." Bobby winced. "All right," she laughed. "Handsome…a beautiful boy…" She kissed him; as he became lost in her, Bobby thought, "A boy…does she think of me as a boy?"

Other thoughts broke in on his happiness. Marlene never introduced him to anyone—not her mother or her friends—and their dates and excursions avoided certain areas—the bars and restaurants around the university especially. "Don't be paranoid, Goren," he thought one morning as he waited for the bus to take him to Marlene. "We both need to keep this quiet…And it's not like you're telling her anything either…Just go with it…enjoy it."

One evening the lure of a concert of blues was too strong for Marlene, and they went to the university's concert hall. Still vibrating from the concert, they entered the first bar they encountered on the way from the hall. She hesitated at the entrance.

"Is this place ok?" Bobby asked. "We could go on…"

"Yes…yes.. It's fine." She still stood before the door. "It's time," she thought. "If you run into someone, you run into them…Why should you be worried about what anyone thinks…So he's younger than you…and an American…He's smart and sweet and older than you in a lot of ways…" Bobby stood, slightly puzzled but waiting patiently for her. She smiled at him. "I have to warn you," Marlene said. "This place is full of snooty pseudo-intellectuals."

Bobby grinned. "Well, I'll just try to look like the silent but deep type."

In spite of the crowd, Bobby and Marlene managed to find an empty table in a dark corner. "I'll get our drinks at the bar," Bobby said, and Marlene considered, as she often did, his kindness to her.

As he moved away from the table, Bobby noted from the corner of his eye a tall, very blonde man who appeared to be studying Marlene. "Maybe someone she knows," he thought.

It took Bobby some time to collect their drinks. As he waited, he attempted to sort through the many voices assaulting his ears. Marlene was right about the clientele; many of the patrons sprouted the latest in philosophical and political theories. He finally got their drinks and maneuvered carefully back to Marlene. As he grew closer, he saw that the tall, blonde man stood over her. Bobby felt a flare of irritation, one that increased when he saw the troubled look on Marlene's face. The man's back was to Bobby; he blocked Marlene from seeing Bobby approach.

"So," the man said in German. "This is why we haven't seen you…you've been with this American boy." Bobby frowned; the man said the words as if he were describing an ugly bug.

"Plenty of people have seen me, Gunther. The ones I've wanted to," Marlene replied with some tension. "Besides, I don't see how any of this is any of your business."

Gunther moved towards the empty seat; Marlene stopped him. "No," she said firmly. "That's taken."

"For him," Gunther said dismissively. "I thought you had taste, Marlene…What are you doing? Slumming? Having a fling with a boy?"

"Gunther." Marlene's voice was low and angry. "We're over. Leave it."

Bobby studied Gunther. He had no desire to create a scene, but he knew he could easily take the man physically. He preferred to deal with Gunther in a quieter way, although he had some doubts if he could match the older man intellectually.

"Excuse me," Bobby said quietly in English. He easily pushed past Gunther, pressing by him with just enough force to let the blonde man know how strong he was. "I'm sorry, Marlene," Bobby said, still using English and employing the most polite voice he could manage. "It was very crowded at the bar." He placed their drinks on the table and leaned forward to lightly brush his lips against her bangs. She looked up at him with a combination of surprise, gratitude, and worry. Bobby softly squeezed her hand, and some of the tension left her face.

Gunther laughed cruelly. "What?" he said. "He can't even speak German! Is that what you have him around for? To improve your American slang?"

Marlene flushed. "Gunther," she growled, but Bobby's gentle touch on her knee calmed her.

"I thought you had some taste," Gunther said. Bobby had maneuvered his chair so that he was between Gunther and Marlene and the other man was trapped in a corner. "What do you and your BOYfriend talk about? Or do you ever talk?"

Marlene was about to leap from her chair when Bobby spoke in perfect German. "I'm afraid, Marlene, I'll never like Wagner…Too bombastic and pompous for me…Not that it's likely to bother Maestro Wagner." Out of the corner of his eye, Bobby was enormously pleased to see that Gunther now looked like a dead fish; it was not an attractive look for him. Marlene's face was a mixture of pleasure and concern. Bobby winked at her. "Tomorrow…would you like to go to the exhibit of modern art…or revisit the Impressionists?"

Marlene sipped her drink. Gunther started to recover from his shock at discovering Bobby's linguistic skills and to become enraged by Bobby's quiet ignorance of his presence.

"I think," Marlene said. "I'd like to go back to the Impressionists." She took another drink, and, emboldened by the calm strength in Bobby's eyes, said, "I'll make it up to you tonight."

Gunther reeled in shock; Bobby's eyes widened in surprise and delight.

"So," Bobby purred. "Would you like to get started on that "make it up to you" part?"

"Of course," Marlene purred back.

Bobby rose immediately and extended a hand to Marlene. He moved so that Marlene was away from Gunther; he rose to his full height—something he'd learned to use to his advantage after years of trying to hide his size—and stared down at Gunther.

"Excuse me," Bobby said with a slight edge to his voice, and again brushed past Gunther with just enough force to tell the German how much strength he possessed. Stunned by several blows, Gunther fell back and let them past.

"Thank you, Robert," Marlene said. "It's nice to finally be with a real gentleman."

They emerged into the cool spring evening and walked several yards before either spoke.

"That was Gunther…old boyfriend," Marlene said. "Old, bad boyfriend."

"So I gathered," Bobby replied quietly. "I…I didn't embarrass you…"

"No," she said quickly. "Not at all…you…you handled it perfectly…that was the sort of thing I've wanted to do to him since we broke up…"

"He'll tell people," Bobby said. "About us…"

Marlene laughed. "Oh, I'd bet on it. But I'm really not part of that crowd now. It doesn't matter."

Bobby shoved his hands in his pockets. "It won't hurt you at work?"

"The people Gunther knows," Marlene said, "are unlikely to have much to do with the base."

Bobby was lost in his thoughts as they walked. "Bobby?" Marlene touched his sleeve. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing…nothing that matters."

"You're a better man than Gunther…a much better man," she said softly.

Bobby ran a hand through his hair. "It's just…he's sophisticated…and older… and…"

"And a jerk," Marlene said. She stood on her toes to kiss him.

If Gunther talked, neither of them learned about it. Neither of them approached the subject of the other's life. Bobby was a gentle and considerate lover, waiting for Marlene to take the lead, joyfully learning from her. But there were moments when he'd rush her to her bedroom and make love to her with a desperation that frightened her. These sessions were often followed by nights in which he had terrible dreams that wracked his body. He always fell asleep after her and woke before her; Marlene occasionally wondered if he ever really slept. She cared enough about him to want to comfort him; she feared his demons enough that she didn't want to approach the dark corners of his mind.

It was a warm, lovely summer day after one of those nights. Bobby had made love to her the previous night as if he was trying to memorize and mark every part of her body. He had been unusually quiet through the morning. They walked by the river, stopping to throw bread crumbs to the swans, ducks, and geese.

"That's all, you mooches," Bobby said as he wiped his hands of the last few crumbs.

"You've been very quiet, Bobby," Marlene said.

He glanced at her, and began pacing away from and back to her, one hand rubbing the back of his neck. He looked at her, and the pain in his eyes stunned her.

"Bobby…what?" She reached for him, but he pulled away.

"The Army…they want to transfer me…send me to South Korea…a new intelligence unit…it's a great opportunity…but…" He stared at the ground.

She struggled to find her voice.

"I'm sorry." He took refuge in English. "I meant…to tell you…last night…but…you were so beautiful and wonderful…I couldn't…"

She found her voice. "I understand." She rested a hand on his chest; the gesture calmed him. "The Army must have a lot of confidence in you…It's a great chance for you…congratulations." She was genuinely proud of and happy for him. "When?" In her mind, Marlene began to consider life without him.

"Two…two weeks…" His voice was a whisper. "And…I…I won't be able to…to get leave before then…"

Marlene smiled sadly. "The only thing armies seem to do quickly is anything that hurts people…"

Bobby spun to face her; the idea he might never see her again filled him with terror. "I won't go," he said suddenly and furiously. "I won't…I'll stay here…"

Marlene stared at him. Bobby was many things, but completely unreasonable was not one of them.

"Bobby," she said gently. "It's the Army. You're a soldier. You have to go."

Bobby stared at her. "Come with me." His eyes and voice were wild.

"Bobby." Marlene fought to keep her voice even; he frightened her. "I can't do that…There's too much paperwork, for one thing…"

He grabbed her hands. "Marry me," he said desperately.

"What?"

"Marry me…you'll be my wife…they'll let you come…"

"Bobby…please…you're…you're hurting my hands…"

He dropped her hands as if they were on fire. "I…I'm sorry…I…" He began to pace in front of her. She was terrified of and for him.

He stopped suddenly and gazed at her. The panic had left him, replaced by an awful sadness.

"I…I'm sorry," Bobby said. "I…I lost my mind there…The Army wouldn't let you come to Korea even if we were married…" His eyes pierced Marlene's soul. "Even if you wanted to marry me…which you don't…"

"Bobby," she said as her heart splintered. "You're wonderful…I don't want you to go…but you're so young…"

"A boy," he said bitterly and turned away from her. "Just a boy."

"Please, Bobby," she choked. "That's not fair…I…I'm young too…my life…my family…they're here…"

For a long time he stared at the river. Finally, he turned back to her. "You're right," he said in a defeated tone. "It's…I've never…faced…ending something…"

Marlene stepped up to him. "These past months," she whispered as she wrapped her arms around him. "Have been wonderful…you gave me so much…"

"What…what…I gave you…what did I give you?"

"Your heart…your soul…everything…Gunther…others…they took from me…treated me as I wasn't anything until I came to them…but you…you made me feel special…I'll never let anyone use me again…that's because of you, Bobby…and I'm grateful…" She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him to her.

"I'm…glad…I could give you something," he said huskily. "You gave me…so much…"

"C'mon," she said. "Let's go back to my apartment…say our goodbyes."

They made love desperately and passionately for the rest of the evening. Bobby missed one bus, then another. Marlene threatened to walk him back to the base before he finally rose from her bed.

"I'll write you," Bobby promised as he dressed, and Marlene mourned that she'd never again see those back muscles ripple and stretch. "Maybe when you finally get to New York you can come and see me…I'll sneak you on the subway." He glanced at her over his shoulder. "I'm lying," he thought. "I'll never see her again…this is it…"

She smiled sadly at him. "Yes," she said, and knew she was lying as the word left her lips. She started to go with him to the bus stop, but he shook his head. She rose to meet his lips.

"Thank you, Marlene," he whispered, and then rushed away from her.

"Thank you, Bobby," she called after his fleeing figure.

He missed the last bus to the base and briefly considered returning to her apartment. Instead, he walked to the base, where the MPs stopped him. It was the first time he'd been late returning from leave—the first time since Basic Training that he'd been guilty of any violation. His record probably was responsible for the officer in charge letting him off with a half-hearted reprimand.

He slipped into his room. His roommate's sleepy voice whispered in the darkness.

"Celebrating your promotion?"

"Something like that." He was surprised at how calm his voice sounded.

"Get in any trouble for being late?"

"Nah…just a little extra duty…"

"Good." Bobby heard Josh roll over.

He fell into his bunk and stared into the darkness trying to will all of Marlene to appear from his memory.

END Chapter Nine