The Second Law of Develop-Mental Mechanics is as follows: “If you want something you’ve got to take it. If you want it badly enough you will.”
8
The Second Law of Develop-Mental Mechanics notwithstanding, it was some time before this tacit promise was to be fulfilled. Boa herself was not at once persuaded that her virginity should be numbered among the somethings that get taken by those who want them badly enough. Then, by the time she’d been brought round, early in April, Daniel found himself unaccustomedly beset by technical difficulties. But a way was found, and they became, just as Boa had imagined they would, and just as Daniel had imagined too, lovers.
In June Daniel was faced with an awkward choice; which is to say, a real one. All through the school year he had been confidently expecting to fail Mrs. Norberg’s Social Studies class, but when the grades were posted he came off with an almost mirraculous B (the same grade Boa got). All at once it became possible to take up Bob Lundgren’s standing offer to work again that summer at his farm. Eighteen weeks at $230 a week meant more than four thousand dollars. Even taking into account the expense of weekend carousals in Elmore and a further outlay for some sort of motorbike in order to keep on visiting Worry, the job would still have meant a bigger chunk of money that he could hope to put aside by any other means. The fact remained, however, that he didn’t really need so much money. In his overweening pride he had only applied to one college, Boston Conservatory. He hadn’t expected to get in (except in the idiot way he half-expected all his wishes to come true), and he hadn’t. His tapes were returned with a letter saying very bluntly that his playing in no way measured up to the Conservatory’s minimum requirements.
Boa, meanwhile, had been accepted at all but one of the eight schools she’d applied to. Accordingly, their plan for next year was for Daniel to find a room and a job of some sort near the college of Boa’s choice. Harvard seemed the likeliest, since maybe Daniel would get into the Conservatory on his next try, and meanwhile he’d be able to start taking voice lessons, Boston being so musical.
As to the summer just ahead, Daniel had been expecting to stay in Amesville to repair his inevitable F in Social Studies, the bright side of which was that he’d have been able to see Boa just about any day he liked. Also, Boa’s favorite aunt from London was going to pay a long visit to Worry, and this aunt, Miss Harriet Marspan, was a musical amateur in the old sense of doing and caring for nothing else — and for its own sake, never thinking where it might lead nor what profit it might yield. Boa thought she performed with unusual capacity and immense good taste. The three of them would form the Marspan Iowa Consort, to which end Boa had already sewn together a sort of banner of welcome and hung it across the whole width of the music room.
However if Daniel went off to work for Bob Lundgren, the Marspan Iowa Consort would amount to no more than an old pink sheet with assorted scraps of cotton stitched to it. Yet if he stayed, what would he be accomplishing? For all her excellences Miss Harriet Marspan didn’t sound like a natural ally. Even her devotion to music made him uneasy when he thought about it, for how was Daniel to measure up to standards of accomplishment formed in one of the music capitals of the world? She would flay him, like another Marsyas.
But then again, some time or other he’d have to take the plunge; he’d have to leave the audience and join the chorus on the stage. However: and yet: but then again — the questions and qualifications multiplied endlessly. And yet it ought to have been a simple choice. But then again.
On the night before he had to give a final yes or no to Bob Lundgren, Milly came down to his room with a pot of coffee and two cups. With a minimum of beating around the bush (without even pouring the coffee) she asked what he was going to do.
“I wish I knew,” he said.
“You’ll have to make up your mind soon.”
“I know. And that’s about all I know.”
“I’d be the last person in the world to tell you to pass up a chance to earn the kind of money you earned last summer. It’s twice what you’re worth.”
“And then some,” he agreed.
“Besides which, there’s the experience.”
“For sure, it’s a good experience.”
“I meant it could lead to more of the same, numbskull. If you want to do that kind of work for a living, and God knows, in this day and age it’s about the only kind of work that has a guaranteed future.”
“Mm. But it isn’t what I want. Not for ever.”
“I didn’t suppose it was. So what it boils down to — pardon me for putting it so bluntly — is whether you want to take a big gamble.”
“Gamble?”
“Don’t make me spell it out, Danny. I am not a fool. I wasn’t born yesterday.”
“I still don’t know what you mean.”
“For heaven’s sake, I know that you and Miss Whiting aren’t performing duets down here all the time. You can hear that piano all over the house — when someone’s playing it.”
“Are you complaining?”
“Would it do any good? No, in fact, I think it’s wonderful that you two young people should have strong interests in common.” She grinned accusingly. “And what you choose to do down here is none of my business.”
“Thanks.”
“So I’ll say only this: nothing ventured, nothing gained.”
“You think I should stay in town this summer.”
“Let’s say I won’t reproach you for enjoying yourself a bit, if that’s what you want to do. And I’ll see that Abe doesn’t either.”
He shook his head. “It’s not what you think, Mom. I mean, I like Boa and all, but we neither of us believe in… um…”
“Matrimony?”
“You said it, I didn’t.”
“Well, candidly, neither did I at your age. But anyone who crosses the street can be hit by a truck.”
Daniel laughed. “Really, Mom, you’ve got it all turned round backwards. The way I see it, the real choice is whether I can afford to turn down the money Bob is offering for the sake of having a bit of fun.”
“Money is a consideration, that’s so. No matter how nice they are, or how considerate, rich people will involve you in spending more than you can possibly afford. I sometimes think it’s their way of weeding the rest of us out. I say that from bitter experience.”
“Mom, that’s not the case. I mean, there’s no way to spend that kind of money in Amesville. Much less, at Worry.”
“Well, well. I’d love to be proven wrong. But if you should need a few dollars sometime, to tide you over, I’ll see what I can do.”
“That’s very sweet of you. I think.”
Milly looked pleased. “One more word of advice, and I’ll leave you to the horns of your dilemma. Which is — I trust that one of you is taking suitable precautions.”
“Um, yes. Usually.”
“Always. With the rich, you know, things don’t work the same. If a girl finds herself pregnant, she can go off for a holiday and get rid of her embarrassment.”
“Jesus, Mom, I hope you don’t think I’ve been planning to get Boa knocked up. I’m not stupid.”
“A word to the wise. But if my back should ever be turned, you’ll find what you need in the upper left drawer of the chest-of-drawers. Lately, though this is strictly between us, I haven’t had much use for them.”
“Mom, you’re too much.”
“I do what I can.” She held up the coffee pot. “You want any?”
He shook his head, then reconsidered and nodded, and finally decided against it and said no.
Though she had been three times married, Miss Harriet Marspan seemed, at the age of thirty-seven the incarnation of Spinsterhood, its deity or patron saint, but at the huntress rather than the virgin-martyr end of the scale. She was a tall, sturdy-looking woman with prematurely gray hair and sharp, appraising gray eyes. She knew all her own good points and the basic skills of enhancing them, but nothing she could do could counteract the basic chill emanating from her as from the entrance to a food locker. Miss Marspan was oblivious to this, and acted on the assumption that she was rather a lot of fun. She had a silvery, if not contagious, laugh, a shrewd wit, perfect pitch, and unremitting powers of concentration.