iancaldwell&dustinthomason.theruleoffour-第68部分

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　voices。　Great　rhythm。　Amazing　rhythm。〃
　WPRB。　The　campus　radio　station　that　played　Handel's　Messiah　when　women　first　arrived　at　Princeton。　I　remember　Gil　on　the　night　I　first　met　him；　outside　the　bell　tower　at　Nassau　Hall。　He　came　out　of　the　darkness　doing　a　little　rumba　thrust；　saying；　〃Now　shake　it；　baby。　Dance。〃　There　has　always　been　music　about　him；　the　jazz　he's　been　trying　to　play　on　the　piano　since　the　day　we　met。　Maybe　there's　something　old　about　the　new　after　all。
　〃I　don't　miss　her；〃　he　says；　trying　for　the　first　time　to　let　me　in。　〃She　would　put　this　stuff　in　her　hair。　Pomade。　Her　stylist　gave　it　to　her。　You　know　how　it　smells　after　someone　vacuums？　Sort　of　hot　and　clean？〃
　〃Sure。〃
　〃It　was　like　that。　She　must've　blow…dried　it　until　it　burned。　Every　time　she　would　lean　her　head　on　me；　I　would　think；　you　smell　like　my　carpet。〃
　He　is　everywhere　now；　free…associating。
　〃You　know　who　else　smelled　like　that？〃　he　asks。
　〃Who？〃
　〃Think　back。　Freshman　year。〃
　Hot　and　clean。　The　fireplace　in　Rockefeller　es　immediately　to　mind。
　〃Lana　McKnight；〃　I　say。
　He　nods。　〃I　never　knew　how　you　guys　stayed　together　as　long　as　you　did。　The　chemistry　was　so　strange。　Charlie　and　I　used　to　make　bets　about　when　you　two　would　break　up。〃
　〃He　told　me　he　liked　Lana。〃
　〃Remember　the　girl　he　dated　sophomore　year？〃　Gil　says；　already　moving　on。
　〃Charlie？〃
　〃Her　name　was　Sharon；　I　think？〃
　〃With　the　different…colored　eyes？〃
　〃Now；　she　had　great…smelling　hair。　I　remember；　she　used　to　sit　in　our　room　waiting　for　Charlie　to　get　back。　The　whole　room　would　smell　like　this　lotion　my　mom　used　to　wear。　I've　never　known　what　it　was；　but　I　always　loved　it。〃
　It　occurs　to　me　that　Gil　has　only　mentioned　stepmothers　to　me　before；　never　his　real　mother。　The　affection　gives　him　away。
　〃You　know　why　they　broke　up？〃　he　says。
　〃Because　she　dumped　him。〃
　Gil　shakes　his　head。　〃Because　he　got　tired　of　picking　up　after　her。　She　would　leave　things　in　our　room…sweaters；　purses；　anything…and　Charlie　would　have　to　bring　them　back。　He　didn't　realize　it　was　just　a　move。　She　was　giving　him　a　reason　to　visit　her　at　night。　Charlie　just　thought　she　was　a　slob。〃
　I　struggle　with　my　tie；　trying　to　knot　it　between　the　fangs　of　the　collar。　Good　old　Charlie。　Cleanliness　next　to　godliness。
　〃She　didn't　break　up　with　him；〃　Gil　continues。　〃The　girls　who　fall　for　Charlie　never　do。　He　always　breaks　up　with　them。〃
　There　is　a　slight　suggestion　in　his　voice　that　this　is　a　fact　about　Charlie　worth　bearing　in　mind；　an　important　character　trait；　this　fault…finding。　As　if　it　helps　to　explain　the　problems　Gil　has　had　with　him。
　〃He's　a　good　guy；〃　Gil　says；　catching　himself。
　He　seems　content　to　leave　it　at　that。　For　a　second　there　is　no　sound　in　the　room　but　the　friction　of　fabric　against　fabric　as　I　pull　off　the　black　tie　and　begin　again。　Gil　sits　down　on　his　mattress　and　runs　his　fingers　through　his　hair。　He　got　into　that　habit　back　when　his　hair　was　longer。　His　hands　still　haven't　adapted　to　the　change。
　At　last　I　manage　a　knot；　a　sort　of　walnut　with　wings。　I　look　in　the　mirror　and　decide　it's　good　enough。　I　slip　on　my　jacket。　A　perfect　fit；　even　better　than　my　own　suit。
　Gil　is　still　silent；　watching　himself　in　the　mirror；　as　if　his　image　were　a　painting。　Here　we　are；　at　the　end　of　his　presidency。　His　Ivy　farewell。　Tomorrow　the　club　will　be　run　by　next　year's　officers；　the　members　he　created　at　bicker；　and　Gil　will　bee　a　ghost　in　his　own　house。　The　best　of　the　Princeton　he　knew　is　ing　to　an　end。
　〃Hey；〃　I　say；　walking　across　the　foyer　into　his　bedroom。　〃Try　to　have　a　good　time　tonight。〃
　He　doesn't　seem　to　hear　me。　He　places　his　cell　phone　on　its　charger；　watching　the　light　pulse。　〃I　wish　this　wasn't　the　way　things　turned　out；〃　he　says。
　〃Charlie'll　be　okay；〃　I　tell　him。
　But　he　just　eyes　his　jewelry　case；　the　tiny　wooden　chest　where　he　keeps　his　valuables；　and　runs　his　palm　across　the　top；　brushing　off　the　dust。　Everything　in　Charlie's　half　of　the　room　is　old　but　spotless：　a　pair　of　athletic　shoes　from　freshman　year　sits　at　the　edge　of　the　closet；　laces　tucked　in；　last　year's　pair　is　still　being　broken　in　on　weekends。　But　everything　in　Gil's　half　of　the　room　seems　unlived…in；　new　and　dusty　at　the　same　time。　From　inside　the　box　he　lifts　a　silver　watch；　the　one　he　wears　on　special　occasions。　Its　hands　have　stopped　moving；　so　he　shakes　the　casing　gently；　winding　it。
　〃What　time　you　got？〃　he　says。
　I　show　him　the　face　of　my　watch；　and　he　sets　his　to　match。
　Outside；　night　has　risen。　Gil　takes　his　key　ring　in　his　hand；　then　the　phone　from　its　charger。　〃My　dad's　favorite　day　of　college　was　the　Ivy　ball　his　senior　year；〃　he　says。　〃He　always　used　to　talk　about　it。〃
　I　think　of　Richard　Curry；　of　the　stories　he　told　Paul　about　Ivy。
　He　said　it　was　like　living　a　dream；　a　perfect　dream。
　Gil　places　the　watch　to　his　ear。　He　listens　to　it　as　if　there　is　something　miraculous　about　the　sound；　an　ocean　trapped　in　a　seashell。
　〃Ready？〃　he　says；　pulling　the　band　around　his　wrist　and　fastening　the　metal。
　He　focuses　on　me　now；　checking　the　cut　of　the　tux。
　〃Not　bad；〃　he　says。　〃I　think　she'll　approve。〃
　〃You　okay？〃　I　ask。
　Gil　adjusts　his　jacket　and　nods。
　〃I　don't　think　I'll　be　telling　my　kids　about　tonight。　But　yeah。　I'm　fine。〃
　At　the　door　we　both　take　one　last　look　before　locking　up。　With　the　lights　out；　the　room　es　to　shadows。　When　I　look　out　the　window　at　the　moon　one　last　time；　I　see　Paul　in　the　reflection　of　my　mind's　eye；　trudging　across　campus　in　his　worn　winter　coat；　alone。
　Gil　looks　at　his　watch　and　says；　〃We　should　be　just　on　time。〃
　Then　he　and　I；　in　our　black　suits　and　black　shoes；　head　out　to　the　Saab　in　the　shoals　of　the　night…colored　snow。
　　
　A　costume　ball；　Gil　had　told　me。　And　a　costume　ball　it　was。　We　arrive　to　find　the　club　magnificent；　the　center　of　all　attention　on　Prospect　Avenue。　Tall　berms　of　snow　rise　like　ramparts　along　the　brick　wall　that　surrounds　the　club；　but　the　path　leading　to　the　front　door　has　been　cleared；　and　the　walkway　has　been　covered　with　a　thin　layer　of　black　stones。　Like　rock　salt　they　melt　a　swath　through　the　ice。　Mirroring　the　effect　are　four　long　cloths　draped　down　the　front　bays　of　the　clubhouse；　each　one　with　a　vertical　stripe　of　ivy　green　flanked　by　thin　pillars　of　gold。
　As　Gil　parks　the　Saab　in　his　space；　club　members　and　the　few　other　invitees　are　approaching　Ivy　ark…style；　in　twos；　each　entrance　staggered　from　the　next　in　polite　intervals；　careful　not　to　intrude　on　one　another。　Seniors　arrive　last；　because　warm　receptions　are　customary　for　graduating　members；　Gil　tells　me　as　he　shuts　off　the　headlights。
　We　cross　the　threshold　to　find　the　club　bustling。　The　air　is　heavy　with　the　heat　of　bodies；　the　sweet　odor　of　alcohol　and　cooked　food；　the　slurring　conversations　that　form　and　re…form　across　the　floor。　Gil's　entrance　is　met　with　clapping　and　cheers。　Sophomores　and　juniors　stationed　across　the　first　floor　turn　toward　the　door　to　wele　him；　some　crying　Gil's　name　aloud；　and　it　seems　for　a　second　that　this　could　still　be　the　night　he　hoped　for；　a　night　like　his　father　had。
　〃Well；〃　he　says　to　me；　ignoring　the　applause　when　it　continues　too　long；　〃this　is　it。〃
　I　look　around　at　the　club's　transformation。　The　work　Gil　has　been　doing；　the　errands　and　planning　and　conversations　with　florists　and　caterers；　is　suddenly　more　than　just　an　excuse　to　leave　our　room　when　things　aren't　well。　Everything　is　different。　The　armchairs　and　tables　that　were　once　here　are　gone。　In　their　place；　the　corners　of　the　front　hall　have　been　rounded　by　quarter…circle　tables；　all　hung　with　silky　cloths　in　regal　dark　green　and　decked　in　china　platters　trembling　with　food。　Behind　each　one；　as　behind　the　wet　bar　to　our　right；　stands　an　attendant　in　white　gloves。　Flower　arrangements　are　everywhere；　not　a　speck　of　color　in　any　of　them：　just　white　lilies　and　black　orchids　and　varieties　I　have　never　seen　before。　In　the　storm　of　tuxedoes　and　black　evening　gowns；　it's　even　possible　to　overlook　the　brown　oak　of　the　walls。
　〃Sir？〃　says　a　waiter　dressed　in　white　tie；　who　has　appeared　from　nowhere　bearing　a　tray　of　canapés　and　truffles。　〃Lamb；〃　he　says；　pointing　at　the　first；　〃and　white　chocolate；〃　po