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I lapsed back into hot confusion.
There was a long silence.
“We could still have lunch,” she said. “Someday.”
“No thanks. I couldn’t stand it. To see you and have to sit across from you and not touch, oh, Lord! Where’s my hat? Was I wearing one?”
I put my hand on the doorknob.
“Where are you going?” she cried.
I shook my head, eyes shut. “I don’t know. Yes, I do. To join the Unitarian Church!”
“What?”
“Unitarians. Yon know.”
“But you can’t do that!”
“Why?”
“Because—”
“Because?”
“They never mention God or Jesus. They’re embarrassed if you talk about them.”
“Right.”
“Which means, when I see you I wouldn’t be able to mention God or Jesus.”
“Right.”
“You wouldn’t join them!”
“No? You made the first move. Now it’s mine. Checkmate.”
I turned the doorknob and said:
“I’ll call you next Tuesday, a last time. But if I do, don’t ask me to marry you.”
“Don’t call,” she said.
“Oh, love that I still dearly love,” I said, “good-bye.”
I went out and shut the door. Quietly.
Mr. Pale
“He’s a very sick man.”
“Where is he?”
“Up above on Deck C. I got him to bed.”
The doctor sighed. “I came on this trip for a vacation. All right, all right. Excuse me,” he said to his wife. He followed the private up through the ramps of the spaceship and the ship, in the few minutes while he did this, pushed itself on in red and yellow fire across space, a thousand miles a second.
“Here we are,” said the orderly.
