Venkat Koduru’s Blog

Emotion is not limited, not confined to certain times or places. Yet there are certain moments when one’s emotion is most distinctive, interesting, and telling of the type of person one is. The moments after Chapters 29, then, (around when Beth receives an unexpected hug from Conrad) are perhaps the most revealing of Beth and therefore the best period during which to explore Beth from a new perspective – Beth’s perspective.

She is surprised, unsure, shaken. A tear forms, but she quickly suppresses it, her face hidden by the hair drooping over. Calvin is staring, intently – staring at her eyes, looking for movement, body language, feeling… Always trying to pick a part. Pick apart everyone, pick apart her. Looking for problems. Looking for something to “talk” about. And then there’s nothing to talk – nothing to be said; he says something anyway. Always searching for what doesn’t exist. Vacation, family get-together turned sour. Calvin makes everything sour…

She picks up a handkerchief, turns around, and pretends to blow her nose. He is still staring. Instead she shuts her eyes, pulls back her hair, and gently dabs her face with the cloth. She stiffens, smiles, and turns again, facing forward, staring at the barren wall besides the window. Avoid his gaze – his preying eyes. That’s what she must do. What does he think when he’s staring? What could there be to think? It’s Conrad. Conrad. He’s thinking about Conrad. Has he ever considered what this has done to her? Even once? She gets up, avoiding Calvin. She walks into the kitchen, and rinses the dirty dishes. Calvin is walking upstairs; she can hear his heavy, sluggish footsteps. A door creaks; he must be checking on Conrad. He always checks on Con. Anyway, Calvin’s gone now. Good. But why did Conrad hug her? The preliminary rinse is done; she puts each dish in its proper place in the washer, pushes back the handle, and makes her way up. Conrad’s door is ajar. She passes by it, stopping at the bathroom to change clothes. Calvin is already asleep. She gets into bed, lying as far from him as possible. She’s flat on her back, head tilted toward the lamp, positioned center on the bedside table. The lights are off and she quickly falls asleep.

Sunlight streams in. Calvin makes his way to the bathroom. “Where is Conrad?”

“How should I know?” She’s staring into the mirror above the sink, adjusting her hair. First thing he asks. No good morning. Instead, “Where is Conrad?” She heads downstairs.

“Does it bother you at all? His school doesn’t start for another two hours. Where could he be? Do you even care?” Cal follows her to the kitchen. Does she even care? How dare he.

“Cal, I wish you’d get over it. He’s not your baby anymore.” She flips on the light switch next to the washer. The dishes are clean now. Worrying. It’s the thing he does best. Always worrying. Always creating problems. Always blaming, making guilty. It’s as if he believes it’s all her fault. But is she guilty? No, of course not. She hasn’t done anything wrong. She moves away, towards the table.

“Did you even notice this?” Cal points at a note left under the switch.

“Leaving early… school…. work on project with Lazenby.” He has signed his name below in cursive, Love Con.

“No,” she replies. So what if she didn’t notice it?

He sighs. “Are you okay?”

“Yes. I’m fine.” Is she okay? Is SHE okay? She can handle herself. No, she doesn’t need help, especially not his. He never helps. Just finds fault, makes every situation worse. Even a pleasant evening with Ward and Audrey, ruined – a fight, argument, about Conrad. He always brings Con up. Does HE need help? No doubt. His whole life revolves around Conrad. He tries to control Con – always wondering if he’s okay, wondering where he is at every moment. Tries to control everyone, always sharing his philosophy, expecting others to follow. Always sharing with her the nasty things Conrad says. Why does he take that? He accepts it. Why doesn’t he accept her? It’s always her fault. Never his. False sympathy, that’s what it is. And he asks if SHE’s okay.

“I’m sorry. Hey, are you playing tennis today?” He takes an egg, and cracks it over the pan.

“Yes, I’m going to the club. Need to prepare for the big event.” She sits down at the table. So why did Conrad hug her? Cal thinks too much, worries too much about him. She’s won’t fall victim to that – over-thinking and over-worrying. It’s simple. Conrad is okay. “I need a break.”

“Where should we go?”

“I don’t know. I need to go by myself.” How could she not know? She always knows. Always knows exactly what’s she’s doing – down to a precise hour, minute. So, why doesn’t she know this time? She just needs to get away, get away from everything. No, get away from him, from Cal.

“Okay, how about we see Berger first? I’ll make an appointment with him right now. We can meet him when you’re back from the club. I’ll tell Ray I need some time off. He’ll understand.”

“Cal, I don’t need help. You do.” There she said it. Finally. It’s him who needs help, not her, not Conrad. Just him. He’s the one who wants to go see Berger, not her; so he should go see him.

Cal sighs. “Fine.” Is that all he has to say? Fine?

“I’m going to pack tonight. I’m leaving in the morning.”