Marmalade Boy Fan Fiction ❯ Lonely Hearts ❯ A Cry in the Night ( Chapter 6 )

I study too much. People never hesitate to tell me that. They also point out that getting up at half-past eight after a night out drinking specifically to study is not the action of a sane human being, unless some test looms within the next twenty-four hours. This has, of course, never given me pause. After my night out with Tal I was a bit nostalgic, but the interruptions my routines had undergone in the past few days were enough to make me seek the solace of my books. The nostalgia was solved by digging out a very old CD, containing the performance of my university's jazz ensemble from my first undergraduate year. My boyfriend had been the principle saxophonist. As the music surrounded me I remembered, yet at the same time forgot my emotional attachment, and turned to my books, again trying to shut out my surroundings.

No matter how little my study skills had been affected, something had, for when a light tap sounded on my door just prior to lunch time I was much less than shocked. The shock entered when I opened the door and did not see Satoshi, but rather my neighbors, Jinny and Doris.

"Hi there! We saw Yuu at breakfast, and he mentioned that he'd heard music coming from your room, so we knew that you were awake." Jinny rushed to explain their intrusion, as Doris just smiled.

"What she's trying to get around to saying is that we're going to the Metropolitan Museum of Art this afternoon. They're showing a special collection from the Louvre and it's supposed to be fantastic. Would you care to join us?" I cast a quick glance around my room, especially at the open textbooks on my desk. Shrugging a bit I turned back and answered.

"I'd love to. I do have plans for the evening though, and have to be back by five. Will that hinder your plans at all?"

"No, of course not. That gives us just over five hours to gaze in awe at works meant to transport, enlighten, and generally make us feel more than we are." Jinny's voice trailed away as she executed a quick pirouette in the hallway. Doris and I giggled at her antics.

"Why don't you two come inside?" I offered. "It'll only take me a few minutes to get ready." They stepped inside and I tidied up my books before changing my sweatshirt for a blazer and blouse. Once we all looked properly studious we headed out. I was surprised when Doris offered to drive. I asked her about it, because I knew from meeting with my advisor before moving out here that cars among the student body were a rarity.

"I'm borrowing Brian's car for the day. He didn't want Jinny and I to have to walk. He can be such a sweet man sometimes." She commented shyly.

The drive to the museum took about half an hour, and during that time we kept the conversation pretty light. The only real contact we'd had was at dinner on Friday, so there was much to talk about. The first matter was their version of recent events, concerning themselves, as well as Yuu and Miki. I was shocked to find out about all the turmoil that they'd undergone.

"But you all seem so comfortable now. I'm a bit skeptical. It sounds too much like fiction."

"I wish it were. Then I would have an excuse for having acted so badly." Jinny looked out the window at the scenery rushing past. "I don't deserve to be forgiven for deliberately lying to Miki, and trying to take Yuu away from her, and I'm doubly sorry now that I've met her. I don't deserve Bill either, but love isn't something you can rationalize."

"I see." I didn't, not really, because I'd always felt that if you couldn't rationalize something that it didn't exist, but Jinny's discomfort was plainly evident, so I switched the conversation around to discussing fields of study. This kept us going until we arrived at the museum and parked.

I have always loved museums, their calm sense of the eternal and their easy pretension and conviction of the importance of human history and talent. Sunday afternoons, sadly, are poor days in which to try and absorb the stillness of a museum. An enormous, murmuring, jostling mob was in the building, mostly looking at the Vatican frescoes and the splendid Egyptian collection.

"Wow, this place is packed." Jinny whispered in my ear after we'd spent a quarter of an hour trying to look at the frescoes. "I'm going to sneak over and look at the jewelry." As she slipped away through the crowd a large group of school children enveloped me. The shrill whispers and giggles made the idea of escape even more tempting. Nudging forward, trying to make minimal amounts of contact with the elementary school students, I laid my hand on Doris's shoulder.

"There are simply too many people in here. Jinny's in the jewelry exhibit, I'm going to go look at the European paintings." She tried to respond, but the crowd's muted voice swelled and she shook her head in frustration. Grabbing my hand she headed for the hallway outside the exhibit hall. As a strange two-headed insectile animal we wove through the crush, finally arriving beyond the maddening crowd.

"I'm glad you said something. It's a zoo in there. You have the right idea. I think I'll go look at the American period rooms. Would you like to meet in the gift shop at three?"

"Sure." I checked my watch, "I guess I'll see you in a few hours then." With a shared smile we parted in search of art without quite so much humanity.

As I'd expected, the long galleries housing the European paintings were virtually deserted. Walking slowly past countless staring portraits, lost in my thoughts, I occasionally paused, staring into the eyes of those immortalized in brushstrokes and canvas, and searched for clues as to what kind of people they'd been. It was a substitute for my much missed lab work I think: analyzing physical properties and minute variations in a representation of the real thing, hoping to elicit all of its secrets. The process is the same, only the medium and equipment change.

Eventually I found myself alone in a smaller gallery, without even a guard to disturb me. This room was noticeably dimmer than the others, with the darkness making itself comfortable, casting a gloom over everything. Even the spotlights over the paintings seemed subdued: a testament to the desertion of the watchful eyes of daylight. Glancing around the room my gaze was caught by a hanging on the other side of the room.

As I stepped nearer I glanced at the label, proclaiming the painting to be Allegory of Winter, painted by Jacques de La Joue the Younger. The painting itself depicted a female figure, crouching, her gaze lifted towards a cold sun. Surrounded by barren trees, cold statuary and accompanied by a cherub of some sort, she seemed to be unfurling, rising from a bower of dead trees. It was undoubtedly a somber scene, but I could not take my eyes from it. The woman was not merely Winter; to me she became Reason, stretching forth in a world wracked by the ravages of emotion and religion. I burned with a desire to help her rise, to see her standing erect under that pale sun, triumphing and bringing the luster of her pale intellect to the wilderness in which she had been slumbering.

When the imp drew my eye I thought of the tale of Persephone and Hades. Fancy took hold as I contemplated the tale, but rather than Demeter's sorrow causing winter, I toyed with the idea that there had been another daughter, who had been cold to Persephone's warmth, and only allowed to inhabit the earth in her sister's absence. It was fitting, that one daughter's beauty could captivate the lord of Death, allowing another's intellect to chill the earth. Looking at the marble-pale skin of the painting I yearned to be that sort of monolith, linked inextricably to a force of nature, beyond petty human concerns and emotions.

I know not how much time passed while I was thus occupied, but eventually I unconsciously reached my own hand, gone cool in the chill of the room towards the painting. In the spotlight my hand gleamed dully, an intricate network of veins shown against ghostly pale flesh. I was a little shocked at how cold I had gotten, but the sound of a low gasp coming from behind me made me turn, with reflexes slowed by my lowered temperature.

There, standing in the doorway, was a man. The light difference between this room and the next was great enough to backlight him, allowing me only to see his long, lean silhouette. It seemed as though he'd been there for quite a while, with one broad shoulder resting against the wall and his legs loosely crossed at the ankle. I was utterly dumbstruck, too caught up in my own fantasies to do anything more than this shadow of a man. He seemed to have been conjured by my own thoughts of Hades, I was seized by a frisson of fear that he was there to drag me down to meet the Lord of Hell.

Long moments passed, in which all I could do was stare. As I was readying to clear my throat of the sticky remnants of dreams he suddenly stiffened and stood erect. After a graceful bow he abruptly turned and left. My eyes had been straining to discern his features within the shadows and the sudden increase in the intensity of the light dazzled me. When I made my way to the doorway the gallery beyond was empty, void even of the echo of footsteps.

Though it wasn't yet time to meet Doris I had seen enough art for the day. Making my way to the museum café I ordered coffee and a croissant. I was busily sipping one and crumbling the other at a corner table when I felt a light touch on my back. Still on edge from my mysterious visitor earlier, I let out a shriek and pivoted sharply to see Jinny standing behind me.

"What on earth is wrong? You're shaking like a leaf." Concern shone in her honest eyes.

"Someone in one of the European galleries was watching me."

"Do you mean a guard?"

"No." I proceeded to recount the tale to her. "When I turned I couldn't see his face. He was like some creature of the night, or of Hades, come to taunt a world that had lost its Persephone and gained a poor substitute. I was afraid of him, but it seemed like I'd called him somehow."

"That's creepy. At least he didn't try anything. There're some wretched people in this city."

"That might give me some relief now." I smiled ruefully. "At least then I would have proof of his humanity." I dragged my still chilled hands through my hair and sighed. "As it is I get the feeling that today he was only watching me, and that he'll take action later."

"Don't talk like that, you'll only frighten yourself more. You'll never see him again."

"You're probably right." Recalling his sudden stiffness another thought occurred to me, "I think he may have been as surprised to find himself watching me as I was."

"Maybe it was love at first sight." Ignoring my rolled eyes Jinny asked, changing the subject, "Do you know where Doris is?"

"She and I were supposed to meet in the gift shop at three."

"That's only about five minutes from now. Do you want to head over there now?"

"Yes, I don't want to be alone for a while." I examined my mangled pastry. "Looks like I've rendered this about as inedible as possible." Cleaning up we headed over to the gift shop, where Doris was already waiting.

"Oh good." She said with a smile. "You found Jinny."

"Actually I found her in the café, murdering a croissant and trembling like she'd seen her mother's ghost." Jinny answered her.

"Did something happen?" Doris looked at me with a faint crease in her brow.

"Just someone watching me in a gallery. I was distracted by a painting, so I let it get to me a little more than I should have." When Doris drew me close for a quick hug I remembered the last hug I'd received. My cheeks flared at the thought of being in Satoshi's arms.

"I told you we shouldn't have excluded the guys." Jinny commented while we browsed through the merchandise. "Yuu said that Brian and Bill were going to entertain Satoshi. If they'd come along Liz could have had her protector nearby."

"Jinny, quit it. Elizabeth's just fine." Doris stressed my name a bit, in response to Jinny's abbreviation, "I'm sure those three enjoyed a day without female conversation, and you've made the poor girl blush." Doris was right, I'd turned a deeper shade of scarlet.

"Don't worry about it. I think Satoshi would be glad to not be forced into the role of knight-protector on my behalf again. I'd already been too much of a burden to him on his visit." I was adamant about downplaying exactly how much I had wanted him to be there. I don't think I fooled either of them.

"We still have about an hour, do you two want to grab a bite to eat, or should we brave the frescoes again?" I was grateful to Doris for changing the subject.

"Let's go eat something. We won't have time before the musical, if we're not meeting 'til six, and I'm getting hungry. Is that all right with you, Elizabeth?" Jinny looked at me contritely when she used my full name.

"Sure, it'll save me some time, and I'm starting to get used to conversation while eating. It'd be a shame to eat alone, and special exhibit gallery is still packed." In full agreement we drove back to campus and ate at a tiny Taiwanese noodle kitchen near the business building. If either of my companions noticed my continued unease during the meal they didn't comment, but chattered comfortably about the upcoming beginning of school, asking me questions about my position, and wishing me luck when they heard I'd get my assignment the next morning.

As often happens, we lost track of time in the restaurant, and getting home when I needed to proved to be a pretty close call. Almost before the car stopped I'd muttered my thanks to my companions and scurried upstairs. Dressing quickly in a sleeveless sheath, I paused before my mirror long enough to apply the minimum amount of cosmetics and smooth down my hair. Tucking my tickets, wallet and keys into a tiny evening bag I walked down the hall, my haste tempered by my heels. As I was leaving I caught a glimpse of Meiko, also dressed in formal wear. I wondered if she too was attending the musical, but a quick glance at my watch prevented any conversation. She began to walk towards me, but I could only smile apologetically and continue out to my car.

"I'm dreadfully sorry." I murmured once I'd reached my car. "I'd love to talk a bit more, but I can't be late for Faust." One of my parting gifts from my undergraduate advisor, once he'd learned I was to go to New York, had been a season ticket to the New York Opera. I had intended to attend the previous weekend, but my illness had prevented it. This was the final showing, and I had no intention of missing it. I have always loved opera's grandeur and spectacle, to say nothing of the music. I loved the epic romances and emotion as well, so different from the trite and banal emotional displays I seemed to be inundated by in the physical world.

I arrived in plenty of time and was comfortably ensconced in my seat when the curtain rose. I had never seen Gounod's Faust performed, but I am very familiar with Goethe's play of the same subject. I adored the magnificent tenor that had been chosen to fill the title role, but as Mephistopheles entered the stage my thoughts hearkened back to the silent watcher I'd seen that afternoon. I tried to pay attention to the play and to forcibly pry my thoughts away, and I succeeded, in a fashion. I concentrated on the differences between the opera and the play. As I had been before, I was disappointed to see Faust, such an eminent scholar, fall prey to the easy sentimentality offered by Mephistopheles. My rational indignation did not last long, however, as the opera worked its spell. Though the hopeful ending rang a bit falsely to me, I was well pleased with my evening.

As I walked through the cool night air I remembered another play I'd read, Doctor Faustus by Marlowe. Sinking into the driver's seat, I remembered why we'd read it.

"It was supposed to be a counterpoint to the Goethe, but I always wanted to differentiate between Faust and Faustus." Driving home, I tried to remember exactly what had bothered me about the two plays, but it eluded me until I was parked.

"Of course." I had understood Faustus's desire to trade his soul for knowledge, his thirst for a challenge beyond the earthly knowledge that he'd already mastered. I remembered quite clearly now, arguing at great length about the feasibility, and of my own willingness to make such a devil's bargain. Exiting my car, I looked across campus at the chemistry building, darkened now, without fervent researchers burning the midnight oil. Heedless of the brisk wind that sliced through my short dress, I shut the car door, left my wrap on the roof and took a few steps onto the grassy field that separated my dorm from the inner campus.

"After all, I may very well have sold my soul for knowledge. I am my work now." A hint of the yearning I'd felt earlier that afternoon while looking at Allegory of Winter returned to me and I raised my arms to the sky. As memories of a life and a past now long gone flooded my mind I began to cry. "Mother, Father, the devil has come to collect his due, but I shall pay the price, as you probably knew I would." I remained there, poised in the night like a statue, with the wind cutting bone deep, tears drenching my face, until I began to cough. The fit wracked my body harshly, throwing me to my knees until the coughs subsided and I could regain my feet, make my way back to the car to collect my wrap, and enter the hushed and deserted dorm.

Getting up the stairs nearly took my breath away, but when I made it to my room and turned on my desk lamp the clock propelled me towards the phone. My nightly conversations with Joel the DJ had quickly become habit, one that I derived a great deal of pleasure from. Even though it was nearly two hours after my habitual calling time I didn't want to distress him. I also craved anything routine that might jolt me from my uncharacteristically maudlin state. Dialing the number of the school radio station without thought or pause, I was shocked to hear my husky whisper in response to Joel's greeting. Even with the British tone I automatically assume when talking to him, I sounded like an aging prostitute.

"Okay, what happened? You sounded so much better yesterday." He asked me.

"I've had an eventful day."

"I thought something must be going on, I was beginning to worry that you'd stood me up."

"Dreadfully sorry. I had an engagement with a Dr. Faust. I couldn't disappoint him."

"After seeing such a renowned man I'm surprised you sound like you're dying."

"Crying is more like it." I remarked softly, then couldn't help myself. "Have you ever felt that something enormous is coming your way, some kind of choice, and that whatever decision you make will change you irrevocably?"

"Is that why you've been crying?" Joel's voice was somber. I chose to blithely ignore his inquiry.

"Faustus sold his soul for knowledge and made a bargain with the devil to do so. I would do the same in his shoes, indeed I think I already have. I've already devoted my heart and soul to my research, when all is said and done, what use do I have for either?"

"Well, not to make light of the situation, but you're assuming that your work will end at some point. From what I know of you even if a project ends, you'll find another."

"Am I a fool then, Joel?" The question burst from me, spurred by more torturous introspection, not his attempt to lighten the discussion. "I sit and try to objectify love, to analyze it away to its rudimentary chemicals and impulses within the brain, in hopes of remaining aloof from it. Is trying to gird my heart against more pain only causing a different sort of pain? Has all my formidable brain power rendered me impervious to love?"

"I think you haven't met the right man. It makes no difference how you try to objectify things, or to fit yourself and your humanity away into scientific compartments. I know you Tsutami. I have heard rapture in your voice when you speak of art as well as science, as clearly as I hear your desperation now. You are not immune to love, far from it. One day you will meet your match, and fall so deeply in love that not even you will be able to understand it."

"Why then, is there a devil lying in wait for me? I am hurtling towards a chasm, a decision I must face, and I'm seeing apparitions staring at me that vanish when I try to examine them in turn."

"You're seeing things, people following you?" Joel's question was brutally sharp.

"How can I make a bargain with Mephistopheles if he's trying to drive me mad?" Belatedly Joel's question registered within my mind. In a somewhat brisker tone I collected myself and replied to it, my tone approaching normalcy, to my own ears at least. "Sorry, it was only the once, and I'm sure I was overwrought at the time. I was completely convinced that the man I saw was a minion of Hades, sent to gloat about the loss of Persephone and the onset of winter. I allowed my fancy too free a reign, I fear."

"No more." Joel cut me off, for the first time. "You're well read, a brilliant woman, and obviously both exhausted and mildly delirious from your illness, which seems to have resurfaced. Don't try to pretend that I can't hear you coughing, no matter how you try to muffle it. Please, hang up and go to sleep, for my sake."

"Thank you, you don't know how much you've helped me tonight." As my exhaustion exerted itself I felt more than heard the lilt of my native Michigan creep into my voice.

"One day, m'dear. All in good time. Good night, milady." Joel's warm voice was the last thing I heard before I began coughing, in earnest again, all attempts at quiet forgotten. When I finally stopped I was left weakly gripping my desk, draped bodily over it, the receiver still in my grasp.

Without attempting to respond to the shout I could hear coming from the telephone I gently replaced the receiver on the cradle and changed for bed, exchanging the dress for a warm pair of flannel pajamas. I would apologize and explain to Joel tomorrow, I decided. After a hearty draught of cough syrup I snuggled down amidst my covers and surrendered to sleep.

The combination of sleep and medicine served me well. I awoke the next morning in a relatively normal condition, which is to say that I had awoken, showered, dressed and eaten breakfast before becoming aware enough to take inventory. This in itself was a cheering sign, because a long awaited meeting with my new advisor, Dr. Murphy had been scheduled for this very day. Not only was I eagerly anticipating meeting a man with his formidable academic reputation, but today was also the day when I'd receive my laboratory assignments and my teaching schedule. It would be nice to have some structure in my life again. Checking my watch, I saw that it was time to head over.

Arriving in the chemistry building was like returning home after a long absence. The smell of the chemicals used in all freshman labs, the faint hiss of gas lines, the perpetually dim staircases all reminded me of how right the decision to come here had been. Knocking softly on the door, Professor Murphy himself granted me admittance to his inner sanctum, an office crammed with book and thirty years of academic paraphernalia.

"Good morning Miss Fairfax. It's lovely to see you today. I hope you've settled yourself comfortably over in Chidester Hall?" I murmured my assent and nodded briefly as he rolled onward. "I want to tell you again how glad I am that you can come join our little group. We have been sorely in need of a good basic instructor, especially after the mess of things that those poor education students made of things last semester." He clucked softly and shook his head.

I was well aware of the mess the chemistry program here had gotten into. A lack of graduate students had caused a teaching shortage, and the administration, in all its wisdom, had assigned a number of graduate students in the education department to teach a few of the high school chemistry courses. It had become a farce almost immediately, with the instructors utterly unable to do anything but read the books aloud, and the research professors being pulled away to lecture. Dr. Murphy had contacted my advisor, Dr. Komachoski, who'd presented the idea to me. It had seemed ideal at the time, a light lecture load, coupled with a lab of my own to complete my research, and my masters' degree waiting at the end of it. I was indescribably thrilled to be there.

"Thank you sir, I'm very happy to be here."

"Yes, of course. Komachoski wouldn't send me anything but the best. Now, we've decided to start you out with just one class, the honors freshman chemistry course. It's just a basic survey but we wanted someone with a nimble mind who could keep up with all the bright students."

"Thank you. I'm honored that you felt like you could trust me." He waved a hand dismissively.

"Think nothing of it. Actually, those honors classes can be beastly. The kids keep trying to get the better of you. If you have any trouble, send them to me. Here's the selected text for the semester, as well as the supplementary materials, and all the information about class meeting times and the locations. Just remember, you won't be in charge of the lab." He handed me a thick stack of books, the top one of which was a folio labeled "Lecture Notes."

"Now, your office will be on this floor, at the end of the hall. They've already put your name up. It's small, but with a good reading lamp it should suit you fine. Remember to have at least three hours available weekly for questions. Your lab is a different story. I hope you don't mind, but we've had to put you on the top floor. You'll be the only one up there, but there's a stout lock on the door, so you shouldn't feel alarmed about being here at all hours." He gave me a sharp look. "Not that we're expecting that. I've been told about your devotion to your duty young lady, and I hope I won't have to take you to task for it."

"I'll try to contain myself sir. I'm not promising miracles, but I shan't bring my cot over. Will that do for a compromise?" The old man began laughing earnestly and walked around the desk to clap me on the shoulder.

"You'll do, Miss Fairfax. You'll do splendidly. Now, you go off and acquaint yourself with the building. We can't have you looking lost while you're teaching. Make sure you don't spend too much time in the lab this week, the heating system won't be turned on for the upper floors until classes start, and it gets mighty chilly up there, with all the wind." With that I was escorted out of the door and headed down the hallway to my own office. His description was correct, it was small, but would suit me well for the time being. Sitting down at the desk I began idly shuffling through the books he'd given me for the class. When I got to the prepared notes I dropped the folio on the desk.

"What absolute rubbish. These are dreadful." I quickly saw that the textbook was as much at fault as the preparer of the notes. Shaking my head sorrowfully, I decided to begin working up my own notes for the class, as soon as I'd seen my lab. Feeling giddy with anticipation, I locked up the office and headed up the nearest stairs. When I reached the fifth floor I saw it, a door right in the center of the hallway that looked to have been newly cleaned. Drawing closer I was able to read my own name and title in neat gold lettering on the frosted glass window before I inserted the key and entered my new domain.