It seemed like everyone was looking at us when we entered, but I blamed that on my own nervousness, we got right in line, and he read off the choices printed on the wall. I really wasn't hungry, but I let him order me the deluxe hamburger and the fries, I chose a battle of water as an offering to the god of diet and nutrition, and then we sat at an outside table.
We were right at the center of a busy
intersection. There was a constant stream of traffic going by the fast-food restaurant and a continuous flow of traffic and people coming to it and leaving it. This was certainly not the mast romantic or private place to meet someone for the first time, but for some reason, that was what gave it its charm,
"I have this philosophy as far as being creative is concerned." he began, noticing how I was looking at everyone and everything. "I think you have to be in it, to feel the rhythms of real life. You can't hide out behind those high walls and hedges all your life and do anything good.
"In other words," he said. "I'd be here even if I didn't have to be. At least, once in a while." he added with a smile.
"The hamburger is as delicious as I've had in fancy places," I said and he laughed.
"How's life at the palace?"
"My mother is still in the hospital. I haven't been there yet today:"
"Oh." He thought a moment. "I didn't
mean to interfere. I guess I could have met you there. I just assumed you had come back from visiting and--"
"No. I was visiting my uncle instead." I said. "Your uncle is in the hospital too?"
"He's in an adult residency near Boca."
"Oh? Is he that old?"
"It's not that kind of residency. It's for people who can't live on their own."
"Really? What's wrong with him?"
'He suffers from manic depression. He was in a clinic for years and years and then improved and was placed in the residency. Some day I'm going to get him out of there," I declared.
"Is he your mother's or your father's brother?"
"Mother's."
"Your house is as big as a small hotel, isn't it? Why wouldn't she want him to live with you if he could?"
"She doesn't think he can." I said bitterly, "but she's wrong."
"Well, isn't your mother a psychologist? Shouldn't she know better than you?"
No It's--"
"-- complicated," he finished for me. "I know, I know." "No, you don't know." I flared.
"Why is it all the other students at our school, especially the girls, believe they have a monopoly on emotional and psychological problems? I call it the 'No one has it as bad as I do' syndrome,
"Poor Massy Hewlett can't control her weight. She never met a bonbon she didn't like, Poor Brigitte Sklar hasn't found a decent hairdresser. and Tina Olsen? If Tina doesn't get her mother to let her go to Aspen the next spring break, she'll nun away from home. Not to mention Natalie Alexander's crisis over zits,"
I laughed and then, looking critical, said. "So you listen in on our conversations? Everyone thinks you're bared to death most of the time and couldn't care less about anything anyone says."
"That's true. I am bored to death. but I'm not deaf, and to tell you the truth, it gives me some moments of amusement."
"I'm glad you think that's all we are, moments of amusement. My mother is always telling me that rich or poor, emotional and psychological baggage is still a serious problem. If someone makes a mountain out of a molehill, it's still a mountain to him or to her."
"Very charitable."
"If you can't be compassionate, compassionate with everyone, you can't be a good doctor or a good psychologist or anything that has to do with helping people. Heyden. Don't be so smug just because you have a normal life," I snapped.