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- Story Listed as: Fiction For Adults
- Theme: Mystery
- Subject: Relationships
- Published: 08/10/2014
TWO LIVES
Born 1929, M, from Roseville, CA, United StatesA middle-aged man with a wide white bandage across his forehead takes his seat on the plane flying from New York to Sacramento, California. He tries to fasten his seat belt, succeeds on the third try, and then sits tensely upright. The grandmotherly-looking woman seated next to him asks if he's all right.
"I'm fine," he answers shortly.
"I just thought . . . you know, the bandage."
The man, Professor Craig Stevens, reaches one hand up to the bandage. "Yes," he says. He's normally a polite man and so he adds, "I was mugged. Outside of my hotel, in Manhattan."
"Oh, that's terrible. Did you lose anything?"
"You might say that."
The captain's voice comes over the intercom, saying they are about to take off. The plane taxis down the runway and in a few minutes is aloft, leaving behind the bright lights of the city, the hotel, the events which have brought Stevens' life to a crossroads.
When the plane is cruising along, giving Stevens a curious sense of being motionless, of being suspended in mid-air, his seatmate asks, "Was it much money?"
"What?"
"Did you lose much money? When you were mugged?"
"I don't know, probably not too much. You see, when I was hit on the head I had a concussion and suffered kind of a memory loss." He has a mental image of waking up in a hospital, not knowing who he was, where he was, everything as blank as the white hospital walls.
"Oh, you poor man." The grandmotherly face wrinkles up in concern. "But your memory did come back, didn't it?"
"Yes, in a way. They recovered my wallet and it still had my driver's license in it. That told me my name and when I heard it I suddenly remembered I was a professor, at Sacramento State. That's why I was in New York. I'd gone there for a conference."
"And did everything come back then?"
"Not right away. But in bits and pieces over the next few days. I remembered my wife's name was Anne and we had two children. Our son had just graduated from college and our daughter was in high school. We lived in a house in the suburbs, not far from the college. A pretty conventional life."
Stephens strokes his gray-flecked beard. He's not sure why he's telling all this; maybe because he's wanted to tell somebody and this woman is a stranger he'll never see again. The mugging had occurred on the first day of the conference. After 24 hours in the hospital he'd returned to his hotel and as his memory came back he'd started going to the conference meetings, which he usually found very dull. But every so often, during a droning speech, scenes from his past life would suddenly pop into his mind. He remembered the first time he saw his wife Anne, a short blonde girl with a no-nonsense manner, on the steps of the college library. He would see himself, a young man, returning home from a day of teaching and Anne kissing him at the door; then, somewhat older, his children running up to greet him; then, still older, his family watching television until he announced that he was there. He saw himself in typical suburban activities: at backyard barbecues, at little league and soccer games, playing bridge with another couple (Jim Warren, a fellow professor, and Jim's wife, he remembered). Yes, it was all very conventional.
"So now everything is back to normal?"
Stevens considers the question as he takes a handkerchief from the pocket of his tweed jacket and cleans his eyeglasses. With the jacket, his glasses and beard, he looks like a college professor. He wonders how much of his story he should reveal, then decides he may as well tell the whole thing.
"Except for one thing. Veronica."
"Veronica? I don't understand."
Stevens thinks back. After his memory had apparently returned, one disturbing element remained. The image of a tall, dark-hired woman, her name was Veronica, kept appearing before his eyes. He tried again and again to remember just where she fit into his life but couldn't. Then it suddenly came to him and he had to laugh to himself. Veronica wasn't a real person; she was a fantasy figure he'd created for himself, a mistress who lived in a condo near the university and whom he secretly visited when he told Anne he was going to faculty meetings. It was a harmless enough fantasy to have in his otherwise sedate existence.
He tries to explain all of this to Mrs. Bonnett (by now he and his seatmate have exchanged names) as they eat the tasteless airplane meals they've been served.
"I suppose you think having a fantasy life like that is pretty ridiculous," he says.
"Not at all," Mrs. Bonnett promptly replies. "I was married to the same man for 40 years but that doesn't mean I didn't have my dreams, also. As long as you don't mistake the fantasy for the reality."
"That's the problem," Stevens says. He recalls the night, as he was on the verge of falling asleep after a day of particularly boring meetings at the conference, when he suddenly had a vivid picture of himself and Veronica, making love. The picture was so graphic and so detailed that it was hard to believe this woman was merely a creature of his imagination. Was she real? Was it possible that in addition to a wife and family he also had a mistress? No, he was certain that he wasn't capable of that kind of duplicity.
During the next couple of days, as more and more memories of himself with Veronica came to him, he had to consider the possibility that this was his real life. It occurred to him that his memories of what he'd originally thought to be his past, his conventional life, tended to be blurred and stereotyped, like a bad TV series. Maybe these were the fantasy, a product of his desire to have a wife and family while living with a mistress who, he was sure, didn't want to have children. Finally, he'd decided to return to Sacramento the next day, although the conference would run on to the end of the week, and learn the truth.
He tries his best to describe his dilemma to Mrs. Bonnett, without going into detail about the scenes he recalls of himself and Veronica.
"So, which is real," he asks, "and which is imaginary?"
"What do you think?"
"I don't know. Most of the time, I'm sure that my life with a wife and family, the conventional life, is the real one and that the other's only a fantasy. But sometimes I can't help feeling that my life with Veronica has to be real and that I only imagined the other life. But, you know, I have decided one thing."
"What's that?"
"I don't think a man should be confined to just one life. He should be able to express the different parts of his nature, not just live out one part and frustrate another."
At this, the elderly woman bridles. "That's absurd," she says. "What if everyone thought like that? Goodness, think of all the complications."
After this pronouncement, Mrs. Bonnett stares straight ahead. There's no point in trying to argue, thinks Stevens, and he's glad that the plane is nearing Sacramento. Whatever happens, he's determined that there'll be some changes. If he is living with Veronica, he'll tell her that he wants a family. If she still refuses to have children, he'll have to look for someone else. He's 42 years old but he can still achieve this during the second part of his life. And if he already has a wife and family, then what? Should he look for a mistress to give his life some excitement? Yes, if necessary, he will.
The plane finally lands. Professor Stevens helps Mrs. Bonnet with her luggage and follows her out through the gate. His plan is to take a taxi to the address on his driver's license. Then he'll find out which one of his two lives is the real one. But, as he goes down the escalator, he sees a short blonde woman he thinks is his wife standing in the middle of the terminal. Yes, it's definitely Anne. She must have called the hotel and found out he was leaving early. Perhaps they'd told her about his mishap. He thinks: so the conventional life is the real one after all.
As he gets off the escalator and starts to move toward Anne, he sees her face light up joyously, then a tall man about Stevens' age comes up to her. The two embrace with an intensity that makes it obvious that they're lovers being re-united after a period of separation. Stevens recognizes the tall man as his fellow professor, Jim Warren. For an instant, he's stunned, then he has to smile to himself. He's discovered he isn't the only one who thinks that a person shouldn't be confined to just one life and, as Mrs. Bonnet had said, there are going to be complications.
The End
TWO LIVES(Martin Green)
A middle-aged man with a wide white bandage across his forehead takes his seat on the plane flying from New York to Sacramento, California. He tries to fasten his seat belt, succeeds on the third try, and then sits tensely upright. The grandmotherly-looking woman seated next to him asks if he's all right.
"I'm fine," he answers shortly.
"I just thought . . . you know, the bandage."
The man, Professor Craig Stevens, reaches one hand up to the bandage. "Yes," he says. He's normally a polite man and so he adds, "I was mugged. Outside of my hotel, in Manhattan."
"Oh, that's terrible. Did you lose anything?"
"You might say that."
The captain's voice comes over the intercom, saying they are about to take off. The plane taxis down the runway and in a few minutes is aloft, leaving behind the bright lights of the city, the hotel, the events which have brought Stevens' life to a crossroads.
When the plane is cruising along, giving Stevens a curious sense of being motionless, of being suspended in mid-air, his seatmate asks, "Was it much money?"
"What?"
"Did you lose much money? When you were mugged?"
"I don't know, probably not too much. You see, when I was hit on the head I had a concussion and suffered kind of a memory loss." He has a mental image of waking up in a hospital, not knowing who he was, where he was, everything as blank as the white hospital walls.
"Oh, you poor man." The grandmotherly face wrinkles up in concern. "But your memory did come back, didn't it?"
"Yes, in a way. They recovered my wallet and it still had my driver's license in it. That told me my name and when I heard it I suddenly remembered I was a professor, at Sacramento State. That's why I was in New York. I'd gone there for a conference."
"And did everything come back then?"
"Not right away. But in bits and pieces over the next few days. I remembered my wife's name was Anne and we had two children. Our son had just graduated from college and our daughter was in high school. We lived in a house in the suburbs, not far from the college. A pretty conventional life."
Stephens strokes his gray-flecked beard. He's not sure why he's telling all this; maybe because he's wanted to tell somebody and this woman is a stranger he'll never see again. The mugging had occurred on the first day of the conference. After 24 hours in the hospital he'd returned to his hotel and as his memory came back he'd started going to the conference meetings, which he usually found very dull. But every so often, during a droning speech, scenes from his past life would suddenly pop into his mind. He remembered the first time he saw his wife Anne, a short blonde girl with a no-nonsense manner, on the steps of the college library. He would see himself, a young man, returning home from a day of teaching and Anne kissing him at the door; then, somewhat older, his children running up to greet him; then, still older, his family watching television until he announced that he was there. He saw himself in typical suburban activities: at backyard barbecues, at little league and soccer games, playing bridge with another couple (Jim Warren, a fellow professor, and Jim's wife, he remembered). Yes, it was all very conventional.
"So now everything is back to normal?"
Stevens considers the question as he takes a handkerchief from the pocket of his tweed jacket and cleans his eyeglasses. With the jacket, his glasses and beard, he looks like a college professor. He wonders how much of his story he should reveal, then decides he may as well tell the whole thing.
"Except for one thing. Veronica."
"Veronica? I don't understand."
Stevens thinks back. After his memory had apparently returned, one disturbing element remained. The image of a tall, dark-hired woman, her name was Veronica, kept appearing before his eyes. He tried again and again to remember just where she fit into his life but couldn't. Then it suddenly came to him and he had to laugh to himself. Veronica wasn't a real person; she was a fantasy figure he'd created for himself, a mistress who lived in a condo near the university and whom he secretly visited when he told Anne he was going to faculty meetings. It was a harmless enough fantasy to have in his otherwise sedate existence.
He tries to explain all of this to Mrs. Bonnett (by now he and his seatmate have exchanged names) as they eat the tasteless airplane meals they've been served.
"I suppose you think having a fantasy life like that is pretty ridiculous," he says.
"Not at all," Mrs. Bonnett promptly replies. "I was married to the same man for 40 years but that doesn't mean I didn't have my dreams, also. As long as you don't mistake the fantasy for the reality."
"That's the problem," Stevens says. He recalls the night, as he was on the verge of falling asleep after a day of particularly boring meetings at the conference, when he suddenly had a vivid picture of himself and Veronica, making love. The picture was so graphic and so detailed that it was hard to believe this woman was merely a creature of his imagination. Was she real? Was it possible that in addition to a wife and family he also had a mistress? No, he was certain that he wasn't capable of that kind of duplicity.
During the next couple of days, as more and more memories of himself with Veronica came to him, he had to consider the possibility that this was his real life. It occurred to him that his memories of what he'd originally thought to be his past, his conventional life, tended to be blurred and stereotyped, like a bad TV series. Maybe these were the fantasy, a product of his desire to have a wife and family while living with a mistress who, he was sure, didn't want to have children. Finally, he'd decided to return to Sacramento the next day, although the conference would run on to the end of the week, and learn the truth.
He tries his best to describe his dilemma to Mrs. Bonnett, without going into detail about the scenes he recalls of himself and Veronica.
"So, which is real," he asks, "and which is imaginary?"
"What do you think?"
"I don't know. Most of the time, I'm sure that my life with a wife and family, the conventional life, is the real one and that the other's only a fantasy. But sometimes I can't help feeling that my life with Veronica has to be real and that I only imagined the other life. But, you know, I have decided one thing."
"What's that?"
"I don't think a man should be confined to just one life. He should be able to express the different parts of his nature, not just live out one part and frustrate another."
At this, the elderly woman bridles. "That's absurd," she says. "What if everyone thought like that? Goodness, think of all the complications."
After this pronouncement, Mrs. Bonnett stares straight ahead. There's no point in trying to argue, thinks Stevens, and he's glad that the plane is nearing Sacramento. Whatever happens, he's determined that there'll be some changes. If he is living with Veronica, he'll tell her that he wants a family. If she still refuses to have children, he'll have to look for someone else. He's 42 years old but he can still achieve this during the second part of his life. And if he already has a wife and family, then what? Should he look for a mistress to give his life some excitement? Yes, if necessary, he will.
The plane finally lands. Professor Stevens helps Mrs. Bonnet with her luggage and follows her out through the gate. His plan is to take a taxi to the address on his driver's license. Then he'll find out which one of his two lives is the real one. But, as he goes down the escalator, he sees a short blonde woman he thinks is his wife standing in the middle of the terminal. Yes, it's definitely Anne. She must have called the hotel and found out he was leaving early. Perhaps they'd told her about his mishap. He thinks: so the conventional life is the real one after all.
As he gets off the escalator and starts to move toward Anne, he sees her face light up joyously, then a tall man about Stevens' age comes up to her. The two embrace with an intensity that makes it obvious that they're lovers being re-united after a period of separation. Stevens recognizes the tall man as his fellow professor, Jim Warren. For an instant, he's stunned, then he has to smile to himself. He's discovered he isn't the only one who thinks that a person shouldn't be confined to just one life and, as Mrs. Bonnet had said, there are going to be complications.
The End
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