She cut the visit short. What was she doing anyway?
Pam knew his going clean removed an obstacle in an intensifying relationship she dared not categorize. His gaze made her stomach flutter.
One day, in a poem to herself, she wrote:
He converses as if driven
by some unquelled hunger,
Some hunger or hopeless passion,
Some inside wheel that must turn,
gears meshing with his deepest self.
As if driven in starvation to this morsel,
His words are ravenous,
His eyes ravenous;
Filling slowly to a calmness,
A floating, smiling calm.
She spent more and more time with him. Visiting days were like parties in the park, with all his friends and their relatives, girlfriends, children and wives.
One day when she got back to Mentone, Pam learned that a dear friend from college had killed herself. The two had stayed in touch, and each time they saw each other it was as if they were back in the dorms together. Pam found herself crying, day after day.
The death knocked her out of her trance. She looked at where she was. She was sleepwalking through her job. Her marriage was inert.
In February 1983, Pam took the LSAT and told Gerry she wanted a divorce.
Coming Tuesday: Fighting for freedom