"Nancy was my high school sweet heart. We exclusively dated each other. We married when I graduated from college and got a job. Christopher was born a year later. He is thirty seven years old now. He is the kind, one may say, born unlucky, and will die unlucky.
"Nancy got involved with bunch of friends, who believed in things very much against what I believed. She said she was bored and our lives had no color. One of her ideas was that child must take her mother's name. I didn't like it, but I didn't fight her. I wanted to keep the peace in the house. I wanted my marriage to last. If some one knew about our private life, their advice to me was that this marriage was already lost. I loved her. I wanted my son to grow up with both parents. She never changed her last name to mine after marriage. And when the baby was born, we named him Christopher Hoyle Rhoads. I was happy that at least he used my name in the middle. But the last name was her maiden name." Tim stopped. He raised his head and looked at Ed to see the effect of the name, his son's name he just had announced.
Ed's head was in his chest. He recognized the name right away. The whole story rushed in to his mind. He wished to stop the time, or to return time to the previous evening before all these things had started. But the water had spilled out and there was no way of gathering it. He tried, however, not to show any sign of emotion, because he knew all the eyes were intensely on him.
"Does the name ring the bell?" Tim began, feeling a thorn in his throat.
"A very short time after the birth of Christopher, Nancy got involved even more with those friends she had; and she wanted us to do what they were doing. They all thought that no bond could take human for granted. They all thought they were free in spirit and soul; therefore they had to be free in action and behavior. To them, the culture and morality were nothing but chain and repression. I couldn't believe this was the same girl I knew for ten years, dated her. Let me just spill out- they swapped partners, and Nancy wanted to experience it, too. She called me old fashioned, stupidly moral." Tim felt a big knot in his throat. From time to time, he cast a deplorable glance at others.
"I fought with her. I tried to reason with her. I told her that the beauty of marriage is its exclusiveness. She stormed at me that I was an old fashioned foul. I finally gave in to her. Yes, I admit it. I gave in to her. We did that thing for a couple a times, actually, to be honest, I didn't. I pretended that I did. I couldn't stand it anymore. Who ever would become my partner, only hear my lecturing and no action. I told her that as important as our marriage was to me with a kid and all, I wouldn't tolerate this. I told her that she needed to clean up her acts. Her response was: 'Even though we both are the same age, we belong to different generations.' I was horrified by her answer. I was offended. What has happened to the girl I knew since we were thirteen years old.
"I thought to myself that this dreadful situation couldn't be helped. We were in a very terrible time. It was like a bitter medicine that one had to swallow it. It was the time that you could see Jane Fonda on the enemy's tank, solacing them, entertaining them, but not our own soldiers who were almost all drafted. Those soldiers were treated the worse of any other war we had. She wanted me to swallow that bitter medicine and be like every one else. That was her exact word. 'When did you become Mr. honorable?' I chocked on that poison. I refused to do it or to go with her.
"After being married for only two years, we finally got a divorce. I loved her parents. I told them the real reason.. Yes, I had visitation, yes, I paid child support; but every thing had flown into the thin air for me. I decided not to marry ever again. I found all women my enemies; and I decided to fight them. But I didn't come to this point right away. I was hurt. I was bitter, yet I thought I should go back to school. I was still a very young man, only twenty five years old. So I did.
"I became a lonely bachelor at such young age. I felt I was entering the dubious dusk of nostalgia that was not related to hope. I thought that my youth was over and my old age had not yet come.
"I felt terrible for many years. But I must admit sometimes I began feeling better for awhile. When that happened, I used to go out. But after awhile, the streets, the people, everything infuriated me. I would return home and purposely would shut myself inside for a long time. I could not endure the filthy, vulgar, and nasty people. Everyone seemed to me was anxious and restless. I was hopeless. Everybody was walking in the streets, but no one was united; and if they did, it was not the right time or place.
"When I finished school and got a teaching job at the university, I started feeling better. Looking at all those beautiful women in my classes, I kept reminding myself of their souls. I kept thinking that beneath those beautiful faces there were a soul of stone. Slowly I felt that they were all the same, just like Nancy. If you don't give in to their want , you're thrown out from their lives. I kind of convinced myself that I could use them and throw them out, too. So I did.
To Be Continued
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