Carolyn. “Come on. Live a little.”
Carolyn forgot all about her studies.
Chel talked all afternoon. She seemed high on life-or something. She told Carolyn she’d grown up at the Waldorf, cared for by a well-paid but disinterested nanny while her even more disinterested daddy went off to make his millions, and her bored, disinterested mother went off to ski at Saint Moritz or buy more designer clothes in Paris. “Heaven knows where she is right now, and I couldn’t care less. They’re both capitalist pigs polluting the air we breathe.”
She had left New York City and come to Berkeley because “Berkeley is the center of the universe, babe. It’s where everything is happening! Haven’t you looked around at all? I want to be in the middle of it. Don’t you?”
Carolyn surprised herself and admitted she’d never had the courage to be in the middle of anything. “I’ve always found a way to blend in.”
“A skill I obviously don’t have.” When Chel laughed, people looked, and she didn’t care.
Carolyn had seen free spirits around the campus, but she’d never been this close to one. Chel was like an exotic bird with wild, colorful plumage who’d managed to escape from a zoo and find her way to Carolyn’s dorm room. Chel fascinated Carolyn and made her laugh.
Chel looked smug. “I think you and I are going to get along real well.”
She hardly saw Chel during the day, but they talked for hours when she returned from classes or wherever she’d gone. She brought pot back to the room. She put a wet towel against the bottom of the door and opened the window. “Come on, Caro. It’s not going to kill you.” Carolyn took a tentative puff. Chel laughed at her.
Despite their vast difference in material resources, Carolyn found their backgrounds weren’t that different. Absentee parents who, when around, were still so preoccupied with their own problems and projects they were blind to anyone else. Of course, Mom and Dad had never been blind to Charlie. But then, Charlie was something special. She talked a lot about her brother.
“You’re like a marionette, aren’t you, babe? Dancing to everyone else’s tune?”
No one made Chel dance.
Carolyn wanted to be just like her.
1966
Once a week Carolyn received a letter from Oma, going over family news and whatever had been happening around Paxtown, which was never much. Mom called a couple of times a month, usually when Carolyn was away at class. The RM left notes in her box.
“If you don’t want to go home, babe, check in with the employment office. They can line up a job for you. We’ll get an apartment, have some fun.”
“I can’t afford an apartment, Chel.”
“Did I say you had to pay?”
Chel didn’t let up on the idea until Carolyn gave in. She figured staying in Berkeley with Chel might be easier than explaining to her parents and Oma why her grades had dipped dramatically. Mom and Dad didn’t put up a fight. That didn’t surprise her. Why would they care? But when Oma didn’t fuss about it, she wondered if anyone missed her. Chel told her to join the club.
Charlie, on leave after infantry training, came to visit one afternoon. He looked surprised when she answered the door. “I guess Berkeley is having its way with you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Attitude, too.” He grinned. “Mind if I come in? Or are you going to leave your poor brother standing out here in the hall?”
She threw herself into his arms and hugged him. “Come on in. Take a look around.” Chel had rented the apartment furnished and added a few colorful pillows to the beige sofa, an Oriental rug under the coffee table. They’d nailed up posters of Venice, Paris, London, van Gogh’s
Charlie gave her a troubled look. “Interesting decor.”
“Glad you like it.” Carolyn lounged on the couch. “Chel pays the rent. Or rather her dad does. His secretary dumps money in her account every month.”
“Must be nice.”
“I think she’d rather have parents who cared.”
He wanted to know more about Chel. “She’s the first real friend I’ve ever had, Charlie.” She didn’t want to talk behind her friend’s back. “You want a glass of wine? We have Chablis or cabernet sauvignon.”
“I’m driving.”
She poured herself a tall glass and brought it back to the couch. He raised his brows. She lifted the glass. “Never seen a girl have a glass of wine before?” She drank deeply.
“Lots of times. Just not my little sister.”
She laughed, relaxed after half a glass. She asked him a couple of questions, knowing he’d take over the conversation. He talked about training and his new buddies-in-arms. “We’re all getting transferred to different bases. Dad says it was a lot different when he was in the military. They trained and went overseas as a unit. I’ll be going alone.”
Her muscles tightened. “Are you going to Vietnam, Charlie?”
“Not yet.”
She finished the glass of wine and thought about having another. Instead, she put the glass on the coffee table and leaned her head against the sofa. She wanted to cry, but it would only make him wish he hadn’t come.
Charlie tugged a strand of her hair. “Try not to worry about me so much.”
She rolled her head toward him. “Do you ever worry about me, Charlie?” Did anybody?
“I will now.” He leaned over and kissed her cheek before pushing to his feet. “It’s getting late. I’d better get on the road. You have to work tomorrow.”
Drowsy, she followed him to the door. “Tell Mom and Dad I’m doing fine.” If they asked.
He grinned. “I thought I’d tell them your apartment smells like pot and you keep bottles of wine in your fridge and pornographic art on your living room wall.”
“It’s a flower!”
He laughed. “Yeah, right. Some flower.”
She grinned, bolstered by the alcohol. “You have a dirty mind, Charlie.”
“Relax. I’m not going to tell them anything. If they ask, I’ll suggest they come see for themselves.”
“Like they’d have time for that.”
He hugged her and spoke seriously against her hair. “Don’t mess around too much, okay? I’d hate for you to have regrets later on.” He let her go.
She leaned in the doorway. “Didn’t you mess around when you were at USC?”
“Yeah, but I’m a guy. It’s permitted.”
“Male chauvinist pig.”
Punching the elevator button, her brother looked back at her. “Don’t go too crazy, Sis.” He jerked his chin up, gave her a sad smile, and disappeared into the elevator.
She went back into the apartment and poured herself another glass of wine. She cried and swore and wondered what the future held for each of them.
10
