Crazy in Love (11 page)

It must have been for almost an hour that I hung around the dinosaur exhibit. I started getting hungry, and I was just
about to go out to Columbus Avenue in search of some
lunch when I saw a familiar figure looming in the
doorway. It was Saul. I could barely make him out through
the giant ribs of Tyrannosaurus Rex. Suddenly, I was
snapped back into the present again.

“Sallie! There you are! I called your house, and your
mother told me I’d probably find you here.” He ran toward
me, a huge smile lighting up his face. His eyes were
positively sparkling. He looked the way I’d looked the week before, when I was convinced that I was in love. That
realization alarmed me.

“Hi, Saul. What’s up? Something major must have
happened for you to have come all the way over here to
find me.” It was odd the way all of New York seemed to be
seeking out my company all of a sudden. First Rachel, at
Carl Schurz Park, and now, just hours later, Saul, at the
Museum of Natural History. I felt like the mayor.

“‘Something major,”‘ he teased. “Yeah, I guess you
could say so. Sallie, I’ve met the girl of my dreams!”

My heart sank into my stomach. I found myself feeling strangled
by the air in the museum. It was as if no one had opened a window for millions of years, ever since Mr. T.
Rex had wandered in and posed dramatically, in the hopes
of one day becoming a permanent exhibit.

“And who might that be?” I’d decided that
playing innocent would be the safest route to take.

“As if you don’t already know.” Saul grinned. “None
other than our Rachel Glass, your best friend and, hopeful
ly, mine. She’s great, Sallie. We had a wonderful time last night. I’d given up on meeting someone as terrific as
Rachel. I think this could be it!”

At this point, a philosophical question comes to mind:
Did I owe it to Saul to warn him? Or was it best to remain
uninvolved? I don’t know which would have been more
ethical. But I do know which one I opted for. I took the
coward’s way out.

“That’s nice,” I said, smiling blandly.

“In fact,” he went on, dragging me away from the
dinosaurs, “I’m going to invite both of you, my two
favorite ladies, to a musical performance tonight. I wanted
to check with you first.  Are you free this evening?”

I nodded dumbly, allowing myself to be maneuvered
through the museum.

“Good. Because I’m playing the guitar and singing at a
retirement home out in Queens, and I’d like you both to be
there.”

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, it’s just something I do sometimes on the week
ends. There’s this place in Queens where a lot of older
people live, and I go out and give them a little concert every now and then. It seems to cheer them up, and it’s a lot of fun
for me. There are about thirty women madly in love with
me. And I’m in love with them, too. Of course, their
average age is probably seventy-five, but no matter.”

“How did this get started?” We were standing in front of
a wall full of pay phones at that point, and Saul was rummaging through his pockets.

“A friend of mine used to work there part-time, and one Saturday night I had nothing to do so I went up to keep him company. I brought my guitar, as usual. And the next thing
I knew, I was singing for a roomful of geriatric groupies.
I loved the attention, and so I got hooked. Now I go out
there whenever I can”—he put a quarter into one of the pay phones—”and tonight, I’d like you and Rachel to be my
guests.”

I opened my mouth, unsure of what exactly I intended to say, but Saul had already turned his attention to the invisible
person he was talking to.

“Hello, Rachel? Hi! It’s Saul.”

I could hear a buzzing sound, like bees, as the
voice at the other end of the wire spoke.

“Fine. How about you? Good.”

Saul glanced at me and gave me a wink. Once again, my heart had become disjointed and had relocated somewhere
under my rib cage. I braced myself.

“So, listen, Rachel, I thought if you weren’t doing
anything tonight, maybe we could get together. I’m inviting
you and Sallie to a kind of a concert.”

I couldn’t stand it anymore. I knew what was coming,
and I could see no reason why I should have to witness it. I turned away and wandered into the gift shop nearby. As I
distractedly fingered handwoven wall hangings from Guate
mala and plastic models of birds of the great Northwest, I watched Saul’s face through the glass that blocked out his
voice. It didn’t matter that I couldn’t hear his words. His
face told me that things were going exactly as I’d
anticipated.

When he finally hung up, I turned my back on him, pretending to be absorbed in a table full of books. I noticed that the little girl who loved dinosaurs was there with her
parents, picking out a picture book on the world in prehistoric times. Even that didn’t manage to cheer me up.

I jumped when I felt a hand on my shoulder. I looked up
into Saul’s face and saw a big smile plastered on his face. It was almost convincing.
Almost.
Even in the bluish fluores
cent light of the museum gift shop, I could see real pain in
his cloudy dark eyes.

“Well, Sallie, it looks as if it won’t be the three of us
going out to Queens tonight after all. Rachel won’t be
joining us. But you’re still invited, of course, if you’d like
to come anyway,”

I shook my head slowly. “I don’t think so.” I felt like
some twentieth-century Judas.

“You knew, didn’t you?” Saul said those words so offhandedly that I couldn’t tell how hurt—or how sur
prised—he really was.

“Well ... yeah, I guess. I—I talked to Rachel this
morning, and
...”

“What exactly did she say to you?” He was walking out
of the museum so quickly that I practically had to run to
keep up with him.

I hesitated. “She said that she liked you a lot, but that it
bothered her that you two came from such different
worlds.”

“Translation: She can’t handle the fact that I’m Puerto
Rican.”

“Saul, it’s not her fault! It’s her parents. They’re the ones
who are making all this so hard on her. They’ve always
stressed the importance of appreciating her heritage, and so it’s bound to influence her. Ever since I met Rachel,
she’s only gone out with Jewish boys. Guys who come from
a background that’s identical to her own.”

“In other words, you’re saying that it’s her problem, not
mine.”

“Well, of course! I mean, she likes you, A lot. And I
think that’s making all this even harder for her.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” Saul
demanded, expressing anger for the first time. “I’m sorry,
Sallie. I don’t mean to take this out on you. You just happen to have the bad luck to be with me right now. Look, it’s past
one o’clock already. Have you had lunch yet?”

“No, but I’m not really very hungry.” I wasn’t. All this
emotional stuff had managed to take my appetite away. I felt too full of other people’s problems to find much room for food.

“Good. I’m too edgy to sit down anywhere. Here, how
about a hot dog?” By that time, we were out on the street,
and he gestured toward a man with a frankfurter stand near one of the entrances to Central Park. I
nodded, and we went over and got ourselves a couple of franks and some cans of soda. Then we headed east across
the park, back toward my neighborhood.

“I guess I just don’t understand.” Saul sighed, biting into his hot dog. “It’s not easy to find people who are on the
same wave length as you are. And I could tell right away
that Rachel and I were right for each other. Sallie, haven’t
you ever felt that way about someone you just met? You just
knew
that the two of you were perfect for each other?”

“Um-hmm,” I agreed enthusiastically, my mouth full of
Diet Pepsi. That proved to be a mistake, because I could
feel the tiny carbonation bubbles rising into my nose. The
next thing you know, yours truly was choking to death right in the middle of Central Park, coughing uncontrollably and spitting out soda all over the sidewalk. Talk about conduct
ing yourself with reserve and dignity.

“Now take somebody like you,” Saul continued, patting me on the back. He never missed a beat as he went on with
his monologue. “You’re a mature, independent young
woman, right?”

I nodded, hoping that my cheeks were not too red and
that there was no Diet Pepsi dribbling down the side of my
face.

“And your background is similar to Rachel’s. Middle-
class, Upper East side, charge accounts at Bloomingdale’s?”

“You make it sound so bland and predictable,” I
protested, having reclaimed my reserve once again.

“You know what I mean.” He paused while he finished his hot dog. “You two are not that different in terms of your
attitudes. So let me ask you: how would you have reacted if
I’d asked
you
out for last night, instead of Rachel?”

I buried my nose in my Diet Pepsi can, wishing I could
climb inside. Since that seemed impossible, I instead adopted a restrained, lofty tone.

“Well, I guess I would have been happy about it.  . .  .”

“Let me rephrase that, and make it more general: how
would
you
feel about going out with a Puerto Rican?’

I thought of my first reaction to Saul when I met him,
then the defensive way I told my parents about him and the
concerns I had over whether or not Rachel would approve of
him. I had to admit that I’d had to face the same kinds of
things that Rachel was grappling with. Or, more accurately,
the things she had chosen to
avoid
having to grapple with.

“It’s funny, Saul,” I said, giving his questions a lot of
thought. “Those two questions seem entirely different to
me. The idea of going out with some faceless, nameless creature who’s identified solely as a Puerto Rican is a lot
different from the idea of going out with
you,
Saul
Rodriguez. Remember what you said to me that first night
you came over? That everyone has stereotyped images of everybody else? Well, there’s a lot of truth to that. ‘Going
out with a Puerto Rican’ sounds rebellious, and daring, and
a bit exotic. But then there’s the reality of
you.
There’s good old Saul, who likes music and tickling people and hot dogs
with mustard, and looks like a cross between Cat Stevens
and a teddy bear.”

I sighed, suddenly feeling tired and extremely disgusted
with the world in general. “I can understand Rachel’s way
of thinking. As much as I hate to admit it, you two
are
from very different backgrounds, and the one she’s from places a whole lot of emphasis on preserving traditions and a certain
kind of life-style and all kinds of stuff like that. And you,
with your background, happen to be inconsistent with it.”

“I see.” Saul sounded sullen as he tossed his empty soda
can into a trash bucket,

“You hate me now, don’t you?”

“No, Sallie, I don’t hate you. I understand what you’re
saying. Maybe I even agree that you’re right.”

“Well, it’s odd that you should say that, because
I
don’t
think I’m right.” I was surprised at how angry I sounded all
of a sudden. I guess Saul was, too. “I understand where
Rachel’s coming from; I really do. But I don’t understand
why she can’t see beyond her way of thinking, especially in
this particular instance. I mean, you’re a terrific guy, Saul!
They don’t make ‘em any better than you! And Rachel
knows that. I’m positive she does. So I think she’s making a
terrible mistake by letting you slip through her fingers like
this.”

“Thanks, Sallie. I appreciate your saying that.”

“But I
mean
it, Saul.” I stopped walking and looked at him earnestly. “Rachel and I always agree on everything.
Or at least we always have in the past. That’s been a major
part of the foundation of our friendship. I know she’ll always side with me, and I always support her in her
decisions. But this time I think she’s making a big mistake.
And if she expects me to back her up, to tell her that I think
she’s doing the right thing ... well, I simply can’t do it. I
sincerely think that Rachel is wrong.”

At that point Saul leaned over and gave me a kiss on the cheek. It was just a little one, not mushy or theatrical or
anything like that. I guess it was just his way of saying
thank you. I blinked hard and looked at him closely, and I
could see that same lingering pain I’d first noticed at the
museum gift shop.