"Oh, God," I said, "what an idiot I've been! All those months of work wasted!"
"Not necessarily," Greg said in his serious way. "It's quite possible the aroma you have created might well find a use in psychotherapy. It would have to undergo rigorous testing, of course, but if it alters mood and behavior the way you describe, it could prove valuable in the treatment of, say, depression and suicidal tendencies. I certainly wouldn't junk it just because it'll never be a best-seller. It may turn out to be a very, very important discovery.
That made me feel a little better-but not much. suppose that in some crazy way I had envistoned Cuddle being easily available to everyone Greg had and making for a kinder, gentler world. brought me down from cuckoo-land. But I found reality depressing.
That night, alone in my bed, I was still dejected, still wondering how I could have been such a simp to think for a moment that a fragrance containing a sex hormone could be sold at perfume counters in department stores. I had just been carried away by a rosy vision, never stopping to consider its practicality.
But, dammit, I told myself, it was a good idea, an original idea, and I really had nothing to be ashamed of. I had worked hard, and I had suchad said, it was possible ceeded. And, as Greg that my formulation might be a big help in the treatment of behavioral problems and psychic disorders. After testing, of course. And I knew of one behavioral problem on which I was determined to do the testing myself. I after midnight.
Herman didn't return home until late. I heard him come stumbling up the stairs and slam his way into the guest bedroom, making no effort to avoid waking Tania or me. I listened to him preparing for bed, showering to remove the traces of his most recent infidelity, no doubt.
I had absolutely no qualms about what I intended to do. at the breakfast table, he The next morning, e was puffy, eyes looked like God's wrath. His fac bloodshot, and he was barely able to get a cup of, black coffee to his lips, his hands trembled so. But I made no comments on his appearance.
"Herm," I said as casually as I could, "I've been working on a new cologne for men at the lab, and I think I've finally got it right. I wish you'd try it and tell me what you think."
He looked up at me dully. I frequently gave him samples of new colognes and after-shaves, as I did to Greg Barrow and other male neighbors, to test their reactions and hear their suggestions.
"Sure, lion," Herman said. "Leave it on the bathroom sink in the guest bedroom, and I'll give it a go. It's not flowery, is it?"
"Oh no," I said. "It's a real he-man's scent, spicy, minty, and very refreshing. I think you'll like it. The client wanted something different and powerful.
"Sounds good," he said. "What are they going to call it?"
"Stud," I told him.
"Hey," he said, perking up, "that's for me." know that? Like runirls can be bossy, you Gning away from home was my idea, I thought it up.
But then I told Tania Todd about it, and mean she was right away she was taking over. I going with me, told me what to pack, and even picked the day we were going to leave. Are all girls like that? of course, I admit she got her uncle to lend us a hundred dollars which we needed. And the other things she did weren't wrong, it's just that she acted like she was running things and I wouldn't be able to leave home without her. That was wrong. I probably would have done better without her tagging along. But I didn't tell her that because she'd start crying, and then I'd have to take it back.
So we were going to go on Wednesday, September 2, like she said. I had all my stuff packed in a bag I had shoved under my bed, because my mom never dusted under there. Also, I had decided to make some baloney sandwiches to take with us, on the morning we left. Tania said that was a good idea but they should be ham and cheese. See what I mean?
The funny thing was that during that last week my father was trying to be real friendly and talking to me and all. He even wanted to take a day off from work and we would do things together. I couldn't figure out why he was acting so strange like that, and I wondered if maybe he knew I was going to run away and was trying to make up for how mean he had been to me so I wouldn't go.
I told Tania about it, and also how happy my mother suddenly was, laughing and joking with me all the time. Maybe she knew, too. But Tania kept saying it was just a faze (I think that's how you spell it) that they were going through and pretty soon they'd be right back to the way they were before and treating me miserable.
"I guess you're right," I said.
"I know I'm right," Tania said. "Sometimes my father is nice to me when he remembers to be, but then he's up to his old tricks again. I hope you're not thinking of backing out, are you, Chet?"
"Of course not."
"Because if you change your mind, I don't care. I'll just run away by myself."
"I'm not going to change my mind," I said. "How many times do I have to tell you?"
We were sitting in our garage where we went so no one could see us. We were talking about what would be the best way to get to Disney World after we left her uncle's place, like, should we hitch a ride or take the bus? And suddenly, right out of the blue, Tania said, "You don't care for me." Boy, she really knew how to mix up a guy. I said, "I do so care for you. I kissed you, didn't I?"
"oh, that," she said. "That didn't mean anything to you."
"it did so, too."
"I bet you've kissed lots of girls."
"Well, I haven't."
"Never?
"Well, maybe one or two," I said.
"Who were they? Do I know them?"
"Nah," I said, "you don't know them-" That was a lie. "They were just girls."
"Why did you kiss them?"
"Holy moley!" I said. I was getting sore. "I don't remember why I kissed them. Okay?"
"You don't care for me," she said again, and we were right back where we started.
I began to think that if she was going to talk like that all the time, maybe it wasn't such a great idea to let her come along when I left home. I mean I couldn't figure out what she wanted.
"Look," I said to her, "I don't ask you how many boys you've kissed."
"Well, I haven't," she said. "You're the only one. So that proves how much I care for you. Because you're the only boy I've let kiss me."
"Tell me what you want," I begged her. "Just tell me what you want me to say, and I'll say it."
"That's no good," she said. "You've got to say it on your own." , Well, that was one talk we had in the garage, and I didn't know what she was getting at. I was all mixed up, and even though I thought about it a lot, I couldn't understand why she was, like, mad at me. I didn't do anything to her. I wished there was someone I could ask about it, but there wasn't.
I was hoping she'd forget about it, but she didn't. Almost every time we talked she'd ask if I cared for her. I mean she really picked on me.
"Now look here," I told her, "if we're going to be traveling, I'll take care of you. Don't worry about it.
"That's not what I mean, Chet," she said.
"Well, what do you mean?" I asked her.
"When I ask if you care for me, I mean do you like me?"
"Sure, I like you."
She was quiet a while, then she said, "Do you love me?"
Geez, she was something. First it was did I care for her, then it was did I like her, and now it was did I love her.
"Wait a minute," I said. "Kids are supposed to love their parents, and maybe their relatives and a sister or brother, if they've got one. But kids aren't supposed to love other kids."
"Who says so?" she said.