The Yeba!Mailing List presents...

mahaba, pero worth reading...

Long Walk to Forever
by Kurt Vonnegut, from Welcome to the Monkey House
 

They had grown up next door to each other, on the fringe of a city,
near fields and woods and orchards, within sight of a lovely bell
tower that belonged to a school for the blind.

Now they were twenty, had not seen each other for nearly a year.
There had always been playful, comfortable warmth between them, but
never any talk of love.

His name was Newt. Her name was Catharine. In the early afternoon,
Newt knocked on Catharine's front door.

Catharine came to the door. She was carrying a fat, glossy, magazine
devoted entirely to brides. "Newt!" she said. She was surprised to
see him.

"Could you come for a walk?" he said. He was a shy person, even with
Catharine. He covered his shyness by speaking absently, as though
what really concerned him were far away--as though he were a secret
agent pausing briefly on a mission between beautiful, distant, and
sinister points. This manner of speaking had always been Newt's
style, even in matters that concerned him desperately.

"A walk?" said Catharine.

"One foot in front of the other," said Newt, "through leaves, over
bridges--"

"I had no idea you were in town," she said.

"Just this minute got in," he said.

"Still in the Army, I see," she said.

"Seven more months to go," he said. He was a private first class in
the Artillery. His uniform was rumpled. His shoes were dusty. He
needed a shave. He held out his hand for the magazine. "Let's see the
pretty book," he said.

She gave it to him. "I'm getting married, Newt," she said.

"I know," he said. "Let's go for a walk."

"I'm awfully busy, Newt," she said. "The wedding is only a week away."

"If we go for a walk," he said," it will make you rosy. It will make
you a rosy bride." He turned the pages of the magazine. "A rosy bride
like her--like her--like her," he said, showing her rosy brides.
Catharine turned rosy, thinking about rosy brides.

"That will be my present to Henry Stewart Chasens," said Newt. "By
taking you for a walk, I'll be giving him a rosy bride."

"You know his name?" asked Catharine.

"Mother wrote," he said. "From Pittsburgh?"

"Yes," she said. "You'd like him."

"Maybe," he said.

"Can--can you come to the wedding, Newt?" she said.

"That I doubt," he said.

"Your furlough isn't long enough?" she said.

"Furlough?" said Newt. He was studying a two-page ad for flat silver.

"I'm not on furlough," he said.

"Oh?" she said.

"I'm what they call AWOL," said Newt.

"Oh, Newt! You're not!" she said.

"Sure I am," he said, still looking at the magazine.

"Why, Newt?" she said.

"I had to find out what your silver pattern is," he said. He read
names of silver patterns from the magazine. "Albemarle? Heather?" he
said.

"Legend? Rambler Rose?" He looked up, smiled. "I plan to give you and
your husband a spoon," he said.

"Newt, Newt, tell me really," she said.

"I want to go for a walk," he said.

She wrung her hands in sisterly anguish. "Oh, Newt--you're fooling me
about being AWOL," she said.

Newt imitated a police siren softly, raised his eyebrows.

"Where--where from?" she said.

"Fort Bragg," he said.

"North Carolina?" she said.

"That's right," he said. "Near Fayetteville--where Scarlett O'Hara
went to school."

"How did you get here?"

He raised his thumb, jerked it in a hitchhike gesture. "Two days," he
said.

"Does your mother know?"

"I didn't come to see my mother," he said.

"Who did you come to see?"

"You," he said.

"Why me?" she said.

"Because I love you," he said. "Now can we take a walk?" he
said. "One foot in front of the other--through leaves, over bridges--"
 

They were taking the walk now, were in a woods with a brown-leaf
floor.

Catharine was angry and rattled, close to tears. "Newt," she
said, "this is absolutely crazy."

"How so?" asked Newt.

"What a crazy time to tell me you love me," she said. "You never
talked that way before." She stopped walking.

"Let's keep walking," he said.

"No," she said. "So far, no farther. I shouldn't have come out with
you at all," she said.

"You did." "To get you out of the house," she said. "If somebody
walked in and heard you talking to me that way, a week before the
wedding--"

"What would they think?"

"They'd think you were crazy," she said.

"Why?" he said.

Catharine took a deep breath, made a speech. "Let me say that I'm
deeply honored by this crazy thing you've done," she said. "I can't
believe you're really AWOL, but maybe you are. I can't believe you
really love me, but maybe you do. But--"

"I do," said Newt.

"Well, I'm deeply honored," said Catharine, "and I'm very fond of you
as a friend, Newt, extremely fond--but it's just too late." She took
a step away from him. "You've never even kissed me," she said, and
she protected herself with her hands. "I don't mean you should do it
now. I just mean this is all so unexpected. I haven't got the
remotest idea how to respond."

"Just walk some more," he said. "Have a nice time."
 

They started walking again.

"How did you expect me to react?" she said.

"How would I know what to expect?" he said. "I've never done anything
like this before."

"Did you think I would throw myself into your arms?"

"Maybe," he said.

"I'm sorry to disappoint you," she said.

"I'm not disappointed," he said. "I wasn't counting on it. This is
very nice, just walking."

Catharine stopped again. "You know what happens next?"

"Nope," he said.

"We shake hands," she said. "We shake hands and part friends," she
said. "That's what happens next."

Newt nodded. "All right," he said. "Remember me from time to time.
Remember how much I loved you."

Involuntarily, Catharine burst into tears. She turned her back to
Newt, looked into the infinite colonnade of the woods.

"What does that mean?" asked Newt.

"Rage!" said Catharine. She clenched her hands. "You had no right--"

"I had to find out," he said.

"If I'd loved you," she said, "I would have let you know before now."

"You would?" he said.

"Yes," she said. She faced him, looked up at him, her face quite
red. "You would have known."

"How?"

"You would have seen it," she said. "Women aren't very clever at
hiding it."

Newt looked closely at Catharine's face. To her consternation, she
realized that what she had said was true, that a woman couldn't hide
love.

Newt was seeing love now. And he did what he had to do. He kissed
her.

"You're hell to get along with!" she said when Newt had let her go.

"I am?" said Newt.

"You shouldn't have done that."

"You didn't like it?" he said.

"What did you expect?" she said--"wild, unbridled passion?"

"I keep telling you," he said. "I never know what's going to happen
next."

"We say good-bye," she said.

He frowned slightly. "All right," he said.

She made another speech. "I'm not sorry we kissed, " she said. "That
was sweet. We should have kissed, we've been so close. I'll always
remember you, Newt, and good luck."

"You too," he said.

"Thank you, Newt."

"Thirty days," he said.

"What?" she said.

"Thirty days in the stockade," he said--"that's what one kiss will
cost me."

"I--I'm sorry," she said, "but I didn't ask you to go AWOL."

"I know," he said.

"You certainly don't deserve any hero's reward for doing something as
foolish as that," she said.

"Must be nice to be a hero," said Newt. "Is Henry Stewart Chasens a
hero?"

"He might be, if he got the chance," said Catharine. She noted
uneasily that they had begun to walk again. The farewell had been
forgotten.

"You really love him?" said Newt.

"Certainly I love him!" she said hotly. "I wouldn't marry him if I
didn't love him!"

"What's good about him?" said Newt.

"Honestly!" she cried, stopping again. "Do you have any idea how
offensive you're being? Many, many, many things are good about Henry!
Yes," she said,"and many, many many things are probably bad too. But
that isn't any of your business. I love Henry, and I don't have to
argue with you!"

"Sorry," said Newt.

"Honestly!" said Catharine.

Newt kissed her again. He kissed her again because she wanted him to.
 

They were now in a large orchard.

"How did we get so far from home, Newt?"

"One foot in front of the other--through leaves, over bridges," said
Newt.

"They add up--the steps," she said.

Bells rang in the tower of the school for the blind nearby.

"School for the blind," said Newt.

"School for the blind," said Catharine. She shook her head in drowsy
wonder. "I've got to get back now," she said.

"Say goodbye," said Newt.

"Every time I do," said Catharine, "I seem to get kissed."

Newt sat down on the close-cropped grass under an apple tree. "Sit
down," he said.

"No," she said.

"I won't touch you."

"I don't believe you." She sat under another tree, twenty feet away
from him. She closed her eyes.

"Dream of Henry Stewart Chasens," he said.

"What?" she said.

"Dream of your wonderful husband-to-be," he said.

"All right, I will," she said. She closed her eyes tighter, caught
glimpses of her husband-to-be.

Newt yawned.

The bees were humming in the trees, and Catharine almost fell asleep.
When she opened her eyes she saw that Newt really was asleep. He
began to snore softly.

Catharine let Newt sleep for an hour, and while he slept she adored
him with all her heart.

The shadows of the apple trees grew to the east. The bells in the
tower of the school for the blind rang again.

"Chick-a-dee-dee-dee", went a chickadee.

Somewhere, far away, an automobile starter nagged and failed, nagged
and failed, fell still.

Catharine came out from under her tree, knelt by Newt. "Newt?" she
said.

"H'm?" he said.

"Late," she said.

"Hello, Catharine," he said.

"Hello, Newt," she said.

"I love you."

"I know," she said.

"Too late," he said.

"Too late," she said.

He stood, stretched groaningly. "A very nice walk," he said.

"I thought so," she said.

"Part company here?" he said.

"I thought so," she said.

"Where will you go?"

"Hitch into town, turn myself in," he said.

"Good luck," she said.

"You, too," he said. "Marry me, Catharine?"

"No," she said.

He smiled, stared at her hard for a moment, then walked away quickly.

Catharine watched him grow smaller in the long perspective of shadows
and trees, knew that if he stopped and turned now, she would run to
him. She would have no choice.

Newt did stop. He did turn. He did call. "Catharine," he said.

She ran to him, put her arms around him, could not speak.