“I think of it as a fine for noncompliance,” Amir said.
“But you wouldn’t take any of the money.”
“I do very nicely thank you on my salary and my lecture tours and my writing.”
“You have an affair with Prentice Lamont?”
“Prentice and I were lovers. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
“While he was in love with Robinson Nevins or before?”
Amir hesitated. He could sense a pitfall in the question.
“While,” he said.
Wrong answer.
“So he was willing to cheat on Nevins but when Nevins left him he was so heartbroken that he killed himself?”
“You don’t understand the gay life,” Amir said.
“Why do you think Prentice killed himself?”
“Everyone thinks so,” Amir said.
“And why did you tell the tenure committee?”
“I felt honor bound to do so.”
“Honor bound,” Hawk said.
Amir looked at Hawk sort of sideways trying to seem as if he weren’t looking at him.
“I know you from before,” he said.
“Sure, we come to your office, couple weeks back,” Hawk said. “Boogied with some of your supporters.”
“No, I mean a long time ago. I know you from a long time ago.”
Hawk didn’t say anything. His face showed nothing. But something must have stirred in his eyes, because Amir flinched backward as if he’d been jabbed.
I let the silence stretch for a while, but nothing came out of it. Amir was rigidly not looking at Hawk.
“Amir,” I said. “I don’t believe a goddamned thing you’ve said.”
Amir stared straight ahead. I nodded at Hawk. We stood and went to the door. I took off the chain bolt. We opened it and went out. Before he closed it Hawk looked for a time at Amir. Then he closed the door softly.
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
I was with Robinson Nevins at the university in the faculty cafeteria, drinking coffee. I was currently experimenting with half decaf and half real coffee. Not bad.
“I met your father the other day,” I said.
“Most people are impressed when they meet him,” Nevins said.
“He’s impressive,” I said.
“Hawk’s affection for him is sort of touching,” Nevins said. “Since, as you must know better than I, Hawk shows very little of anything, let alone affection.”
“You like him?” I said.
“He’s my father,” Nevins said. “I guess I love him. I’m not very comfortable with him.”
“Because?”
“Because he is from a different world. Machismo is the essence of his existence, and I am remote from that.”
“Is he disappointed in you?” I said.
Nevins looked startled.
“Why I… no… I don’t think he is.”
“I don’t think he is either,” I said.
“You talked about me?”
“Yes. He asked me if I thought you were queer.”
“And?”
“And I said I didn’t know. And he said he didn’t know either, but that it didn’t matter much one way or another. You were still his son.”
“I knew he wondered,” Nevins said. “Forty years old and unmarried.”
“I guess the time has come, I need to know,” I said.
“If I’m queer?”
