Red Leaves. Paullina Simons

lowering his voice, which was already calm and low, asked, ‘Was this your idea?’

      Kristina sat back from the table. They were sitting in the corner behind the stairs; the cellar was dimly lit and gloomy.

      ‘Howard, I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

      ‘I asked if it was your idea.’

      ‘I know what you asked. I just don’t know what you mean.’

      ‘Kristina, it is a yes-or-no question.’

      ‘You think everything is a yes-or-no question,’ she said, on edge.

      ‘Pretty much everything is,’ he said easily. ‘Let us try it again. Kristina, was this your idea?’

      She felt impelled to answer him. ‘Mine, like how?’

      ‘Yours, like did you think of this all by yourself, or did someone else suggest we go ahead and get divorced?’

      Incapable of answering him, Kristina said, ‘Who else could possibly -’ and then stopped. Howard was looking at her squarely in the face, and since she knew exactly what he meant, she thought it pointless to pretend any further. So she lied. ‘Yes, Howard. It was my idea.’

      Howard stared at her impassively, but there was something heartfelt behind the serious brown eyes.

      ‘Eat your cake,’ Howard finally said in a gentle voice.

      ‘Who cares about the cake?’ she said sourly.

      ‘I care about the divorce.’

      Kristina sighed deeply. ‘Howard,’ she said, ‘I know. But believe me. Everything’s gonna be okay.’

      ‘Kristina, I find that impossible to believe.’

      ‘Why?’

      ‘Kristina, your father asked me to take care of you.’

      ‘He didn’t ask you, Howard, he told you.’

      ‘Wrong. We made a deal.’

      ‘Yes, and I think you’ve kept your end of the bargain. But one, I’m turning twenty-one tomorrow. And two, Father is dead now. It’s time, Howard.’

      ‘A deal is a deal. We didn’t stipulate age or his death in our agreement.’

      ‘Oh, Howard.’ Kristina sighed and then said quietly, ‘Give up.’

      ‘I cannot,’ he said.

      ‘Please don’t worry about me. Things are going to be just great, I promise.’ Kristina wanted to believe that.

      He looked away from her and, nodding, said, ‘All of a sudden.’

      ‘Not all of a sudden! Five years. Come on. It’s better this way. I was nothing but a means to an end to you.’

      Kristina saw hurt on his face. Her words must have made him feel terrible. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said quickly. ‘You know what I mean. You’re a good person, you deserve better.’ She hoped she was saying the right things, but she was restless. She fidgeted with her napkin, then drummed her dirty fork against the wooden table. ‘Come on, you’ve gone above and beyond your deal to take care of me. And if you had these doubts, why didn’t you say something in September when I first told you I was filing?’

      Now it was Howard’s turn to sigh. ‘You came to me and asked for an extra thousand dollars. I felt I had a right to know why you needed it. If you had had the money yourself, would you have even told me, or would I just have been contacted by your attorney?’

      ‘Howard. I don’t have an attorney. I hired some shyster for a thousand non-contested bucks. He didn’t even know how much the court fees were. First he said a hundred, then three hundred. I mean, the whole thing - that’s why I wanted you to look everything over.’

      ‘Nothing I can do about it now,’ said Howard, pushing the manila envelope aside. He cleared his throat. ‘It is very important to me that you are all right. That you are safe,’ he said.

      ‘Howard, I’m all right, I’m safe.’ Smiling, Kristina added, ‘The only time I’m not safe is when the other team tries to foul me on the court.’

      ‘How often does that happen?’

      ‘All the time.’

      ‘Still love playing?’

      ‘Kidding me? It’s what keeps me going. I scored record points in our exhibition game against Cornell last week.’ She grinned proudly.

      ‘I still do not know how this happened - you playing basketball.’

      Shrugging, Kristina said, ‘How does anything happen? Divine providence. That school you sent me to. It was the only decent sports team they had.’

      ‘Oh, no,’ Howard said, rubbing his head. ‘Not philosophy again.’

      Kristina, her mouth full of carrot cake, told him what the British philosopher Bertrand Russell said once of his lifetime pursuit. ‘As I grew up, I became increasingly interested in philosophy, of which my family profoundly disapproved. Every time the subject came up, they repeated with unfailing regularity, “What is mind? No matter. What is matter? Never mind.” After some fifty or sixty repetitions the remark ceased to amuse me.’

      Steadying his gaze, almost smiling, Howard said, ‘Have I ceased to amuse you?’

      ‘Not yet, Howard,’ she said, smiling.

      They both fell quiet.

      ‘Have time for your major?’

      ‘Two majors. Yeah, I got nothing but time,’ Kristina said. Unlike Jim, who was double-majoring because he was on track for a career and a life, Kristina was double-majoring because she was bored stiff, because she wanted to fill her wandering mind with other people’s meaningful thoughts, so that her own little by little would leave her, would fly and be gone, so that there was not one minute of the day when she had an idle mind or idle hands to do the devil’s handiwork.

      ‘How is Jim?’

      ‘Good. He’s the editor of the Dartmouth Review this year.’

      ‘Ahhh.’ Howard smiled lightly. ‘Does he give you good marks?’

      ‘No,’ she said, mock-petulantly. ‘He’s tougher on me than on anyone. He says the Review is too much hard work. He’s looking forward to graduating.’

      ‘What does he want to do after he graduates?’

      ‘Go to law school.’ She tried to keep the proud edge out of her voice, but failed. ‘He wants to be a Supreme Court Justice.’

      Howard seemed utterly unimpressed. ‘That’s nice. What about you?’

      ‘Me? Grad school.’ That’s all Kristina had been thinking about lately. ‘What else is there to do?’

      Howard smiled. ‘I do not know. Get a job?’

      ‘Howard, please. This is a liberal arts college. What do you think we’re qualified to do? All we are is good readers. We’re not bad on the Mac either, but that’s it.’

      ‘Eventually, you will have to get a job.’

      She snorted. ‘Please. What for? And in what? With my majors, what am I good for?’

      ‘I do not know,’ Howard said slowly. ‘What do other philosophy and religion majors do?’

      ‘They teach, of course,’ Kristina responded happily. ‘They teach philosophy and religion.’

      Howard smiled. Kristina smiled back. She was going to miss him.

      Kristina sensed that Howard wanted to ask her something. His lips pursed and he took on the concentrated look he got whenever he was faced with difficult questions. There were so many difficult questions.