Play Dead

She had started dating Colin Bealy, professor of geology, about a month earlier. He was around fifty, divorced seven years with three grown children. He was short with a heavy beard, dark brown eyes, and a slight paunch. Though Colin Bealy was one of the nation’s most highly respected geology experts, Judy had been worried at first about their intellectual compatibility. How, she wondered, could a woman who taught the art of the written word of Shakespeare and Tolstoy date a man who was fascinated by a bunch of rocks? It didn’t exactly have the romantic intrigue of a Gothic novel—more like a manual on how to install a garage-door opener.

But she was wrong about both Colin and geology. He was well-read and closer to brilliant than very intelligent. As for geology, it was a far cry from a bunch of bearded men breaking rocks in search of an imprint from a seashell. Geology was truly the study of the planet Earth in all her natural glory, her history, and her future.

Judy rewound her answering machine. The tape shrieked as it ran backward. She and Colin had been in New Hampshire for the past four days, so there were quite a few messages on the machine. It had been a glorious little getaway. Finally, after all these years, had she finally found a wonderful guy to call her own?

That’s not true. I almost had the best. Twice.

The tape stopped and turned itself on.

I almost had the best. Twice.

The first two calls were hang-ups. She hated those. Why couldn’t the caller at least have the courtesy to say something? The next message was from one of her students, asking for an extension on a paper due tomorrow.

Twice. I had the best twice.

With great effort, she pushed the tormenting thought away. That was when her sister’s voice came on the machine.

“Judy, it’s Mary. Please call me right away. It’s very important I talk to you.”

Judy’s silly/goofy/Just-F---d smile vanished. The panic in Mary’s voice would have been picked up by a deaf-mute. Judy pictured her sister making the call, the cord twisted around her arms, her beautiful eyes wide with alarm and fear. Something else must have gone wrong. Judy prayed it did not involve hurting Laura again. But how could it not? Laura was now enmeshed in the sins of the past as though she had partaken in them. She was entangled in a way she could never hope to escape. The combination of evil and the past made up an awesome foe—one that could cripple, mutilate, kill.

There were two more similar calls from Mary, each more pleading than the one before. Then Judy heard Laura’s voice on the machine.

“Hi, Aunt Judy, it’s me. I’m going away for a couple of days but I wanted to let you know that next Saturday the Celtics are going to retire David’s number at the Boston Garden. I know how busy you are but I would very much appreciate it if you could be there. Bring Colin if you’d like. I’m anxious to meet him. I love you and I’ll speak to you soon.”

“I love you, too,” Judy said out loud. She wiped away a stray tear. Evil and the past. For David the pain was over. For Laura it had become a constant companion. Judy wondered how many great works of literature had taught her that life was not fair, not even remotely close to being an evenhanded contest. Life was random, choosing to coddle some and destroy others without plan or justification. That was just how things worked. Accept it and move on.

Laura’s message was the last one on the machine. Colin had a seminar on Saturday and would probably not be able to join her, but of course Judy would go to the ceremony. She had been very fond of David from the beginning, and to Laura’s initial surprise, Judy had even been a big fan of his.

“You’re dating David Baskin?” Judy had said to her niece. “I think he’s the greatest player I’ve ever seen.”

“I never knew you liked basketball.”

“Love it. When I lived in Manhattan, I had season tickets to the Knicks games. I’ve followed your boyfriend’s career since he was a Michigan Wolverine. You don’t like basketball?”

“I do now.”

Judy laughed. “Well, tell that handsome superstar that he better get me some tickets.”

“Will do. When you coming down this way?”

“In two weeks.”

“Will you stay with me?”

“Of course.”

“Great. I’ll see you then, Aunt Judy.”

“Good-bye, Laura.”

Judy took a deep breath. Poor Laura. Poor David. She reached for the phone and dialed Mary’s number.

“Hello?”

“Hello, Mary.”

“Where have you been?” Mary nearly shouted. “I’ve been trying to reach you for days.”

“So I gathered. I went away for a few days.”

“Don’t you call in for messages? Suppose somebody had to reach you in an emergency?”

Judy closed her eyes. “I was distracted. I forgot. Now what’s the big problem?”

Mary did not answer right away. “Stan Baskin.”

“David’s brother?”

“Right.”

“What about him?”

“He’s living with Gloria.”

Judy almost wanted to laugh. “So?”

“So?” Mary shot back. “Don’t you realize what this means?”

Judy sighed deeply. “Why don’t you try being happy for Gloria, Mary? Hasn’t she suffered enough? The situation is hardly the same as it was with David and Laura.”

Mary paused. “I know,” she said quietly, “and I want to do what’s best for my daughter.”

“Is Stan Baskin a nice guy?”

“I don’t know,” Mary admitted. “I haven’t even met him yet.”

Judy nodded. Now she understood why her sister was so upset. “You’re going to have to if they stay together.”

“I know. I’m just so scared. Suppose he recognizes—”

“It’s been thirty years,” Judy cut in. “And anyway, it’s a risk we’ll both have to take. For Gloria’s sake.”

“Both?”

“Are you and Laura still speaking?”

“Yes.”

“Then she told you about the ceremony at Boston Garden on Saturday. I’m sure Stan Baskin will be there. So will I.”

“You’re coming down for it?”

“Yes.”

“I’m so grateful, Judy. I need your support so badly.”

“I’m not coming down for you,” Judy said coldly. “I’m coming down for Laura and to pay my respects to David.”