KR: Out of what?
ME: What’s happening.
KR: What do you suppose is happening?
ME: I don’t follow you.
KR: What do you suppose you’re missing?
ME: I still don’t follow you.
KR: If I understand you correctly, you think something’s going on behind your back.
ME: No.
KR: Then, what?
ME: What I said was that sometimes I walk along the street at night and see lighted windows in apartment buildings, and wonder what’s happening in those apartments.
KR: What do you suppose is happening in those apartments?
ME: How would I know? People are living in them, I suppose.
KR: And doing what?
ME: What do you want me to say? That they’re in there fucking?
KR: Are they?
ME: I suppose so, yes. And they’re also eating and reading and brushing their teeth and watching television and whatever the hell else people do in their own houses.
KR: But primarily fucking.
ME: No, not primarily fucking.
KR: Then, what?
ME: Talking.
KR: About what?
ME: I don’t know what.
KR: Try to imagine their conversation.
ME: No. I don’t know what other people talk about.
KR: What do you and Sandy and David talk about?
ME: Everything.
KR: I don’t mean when you’re talking code.
ME: Code? What code?
KR: The code you use when you’re together.
ME: We don’t have any code.
KR: I think it’s a code. The same kind of code little children use in imitation of a foreign language. Have you ever used such a code?
ME: No.
KR: Pig Latin? Or adding vowels or consonants to disguise true meaning? Like Pa-Peter Pa-Piper pa-picked a pa-peck of pa-pickled pa-peppers.
ME: That’s a great code. How’d you ever crack it?
KR: The children using it think it’s indecipherable to outsiders.
ME: Well, we don’t have any code like that. We talk straight English to each other.
KR: It’s more like a shorthand English, isn’t it?
ME: Yes, right. We know each other so well, we can cut corners. We don’t have to spell everything out.
KR: I don’t think you know each other at all.
ME: What’s that supposed to mean?
KR: I think you deliberately use this code of yours...
ME: I told you we don’t have...
KR: Very well, this shorthand English of yours...
ME: Right.
KR: I think you use it to avoid communication.
ME: Why would we do that?
KR: When’s the last time you had a real conversation with anyone?
ME: Yesterday.
KR: With whom?
ME: Sandy. On the telephone.
KR: She called from Bennington?
ME: I called her.
KR: What did you talk about?
ME: I wanted to know when she was coming down.
KR: You already know when she’s coming down. She’s coming down on December twelfth. Six days from now.
ME: I wanted to make sure.
KR: Do you always check her movements so closely?
ME: No, but we’re supposed to be leaving for Semanee on the sixteenth, and I just wanted to make sure everything was all set.
KR: Do you have trepidations about the trip?
ME: None. I’m looking forward to it.
KR: You’ll be missing more than two weeks here.
ME: I’ll survive.
KR: Will you?
ME: Come on, Doctor, cut it out. I’m not dependent on these goddamn sessions. I can function quite well without them.
KR: Good.
ME: You don’t believe me, do you?
KR: I do believe you. In fact, I’m pleased you think we’re making progress.
ME: I didn’t say that.
KR: Don’t you think we’re making progress?
ME: You’re the doctor, Doctor.
KR: I think we’re making progress.
ME: That’s the nicest thing you’ve said to me all week.
KR: Then, why do you respond to it with sarcasm?
ME: That wasn’t sarcasm.
KR: Perhaps not. Perhaps you’re only using code again.
“... going to be all right,” Foderman said. “In fact, he’s been invited to a party on New Year’s Eve.”
“Who’s that?” Mary Margaret asked, turning suddenly from Bryan.
“Schwartz,” Foderman replied. “My friend. The one who called me just before we came over here.”
“I admire the way Jews stick together,” Mary Margaret said conversationally.
“Well, it’s a necessity sometimes,” Foderman said.
“You never camped out, huh?” Hollis asked Sandy.
“Never,” Sandy said.
“Didn’t belong to the Girl Scouts or nothing?”
“Hated the Girl Scouts.”
“Because of persecution, do you mean?” Mary Margaret asked.
“Yes, certainly,” Foderman said. “When you’re forced to live in a ghetto...”
“What’s a ghetto?” Bryan asked.
“Knock, knock,” I said to David.
“Who’s there?”
“Ghetto.”
“Ghetto who?”
“Ghetto you ass inna here, Luigi.”
“I no ghetto the joke,” David said.
“What the hell’s a ghetto?” Bryan asked.
“You’re in your sleeping bag with them stars up there,” Hollis said, “and, man, you feel like a million bucks. You don’t need nothing else in the world. Just that fire to keep the wildcats off your back, and that nice warm bag, and them stars winking down. Ain’t nothing like it in the whole world.”
“Remember that night last year when we sacked out on the mountain?” Bryan asked. “And skied down just as the sun was coming up? Like to froze our asses off.”
“That was fun, that night,” Mary Margaret said. “Are you a good skier, Seymour?”
“I’m an Advanced Intermediate,” Foderman said. “Well, ask them.”
“Is he?” Mary Margaret said.
“He’s coming along,” David said.
“I had a bad day yesterday, I’ll admit...”
“Because your bindings weren’t adjusted properly,” Sandy said.
“That must’ve been it,” Foderman said.
“Maybe we can all ski together tomorrow,” Mary Margaret said.
“We’re heading back to Snowclad right after the race,” Bryan said.
“If this snow keeps up,” Foderman said, “nobody’ll be skiing tomorrow.”
“What time’s the race?” I asked.
“Ten in the morning,” Hollis said.
“Well, then, maybe just the five of us,” Mary Margaret said. “That okay with you, Seymour?”
“Oh, sure,” Foderman said. “If you can keep up with these three. They’re very good skiers.”
“Have you been over to the north face?”
“Not yet.”
“I’d love to take you there,” Mary Margaret said.
“We skied the north face a lot last year,” Bryan said.
“That’s mighty hairy territory over there,” Hollis said.
“You can disappear from sight there, and never be heard from since,” Duke said.
“What do you mean?” Foderman asked.
“That’s the only place I ever skied where I had the feeling I could fall off the mountain. You understand me? Not down the mountain, but off it.”
“Is it that steep?”
“It’s steep, all right.”
“The trails run clear around these deep canyons. You miss a turn, and that’s it, pal.”
“Aren’t there guard rails or something?” Foderman asked.
“Guard rails?” Duke asked incredulously, and burst out laughing.