Bodies and Souls Read Free Page B

what if he had said, “Yes?” What if she had replied, “Good, because I want to sleep with you, too?” What if they had agreed to make love just that one time, and to never touch each other or speak of the occasion again? It had been a beautiful, warm October day, and the country roads had been full of isolated driveways where a car could shelter behind shrubs and trees. It would have taken only minutes for him to convert the backseat of the station wagon into a large flat surface that would serve as a bed—not a very comfortable bed, but serviceable all the same. What would it have been like to stand in the hushed and dappled sunlight of the woods carefully removing the lacy coverings from Liza Howard’s body? It would have been so quiet—no ticking of clocks or muffled domestic rattlings behind doors—only the sound of their quickened breath, their exhalations as they moved against each other, their bare feet rustling in the high grass, the slippery sigh of branches rubbing together above them. They would have taken their time; they would have goaded each other into leisure; he would have stood naked, a light breeze playing over his skin, and he would have seen her standing nude in the open air, the sunlight exposing the white bulbs of her breasts, the ferny growth between her legs … they would have been back in the Garden of Eden.
    And here his imagination stopped, for now, because he was a minister and the lush imagery in his mind had triggered off too many intrusive symbols. Yes, he would have liked to be with that woman just for a while—and what would have been the consequences? For he did believe there would be consequences; he had long ago lost the ability to be a simple sinner. The worst thing that could have happened would be for someone to see them, for the tale of his infidelity with the scarlet woman of Londonton to spread among his parishioners, causing them to lose their faith in him, and to his wife, causing her pain and anger. At the least, even if no other person discovered them, even if Liza Howard didn’t bruit the news around town, he would have had his own conscience to deal with. No. That sexy sin would have been too fecund; it would have grown like a swampland of weedy trees, extending its shadow and roots over his entire life. It would never have been worth it. Never the right thing to do. But he realized he had wanted to do it then, and found pleasure in imagining it now; and this revelation shook him. How could he have been so dully unaware, so oblivious of his own bodily appetite? Liza Howard had probably been no more seductive than he. This sort of thing must happen to her often, Peter thought. People must often take her sexiness personally. Bodies werealways getting in the way of things. Now he looked out at her, winging a silent apology toward her, but she only stared back at him blankly.
    He looked away from Liza Howard and searched through the congregation for his wife, Patricia, and finding her, he found instant consolation. He did love her. He had been terrified all during his twenties as he came to know more and more people who had had miserable childhoods—alcoholic parents, drug-addicted parents, divorced parents, hateful parents, absentminded parents—that after being gifted with loving parents, he did not deserve, he would not get, a loving wife. His childhood had been happy; was his marriage bound to fail? It was more than superstition, it was logic: who gets everything in life? So he was afraid of seriously considering marriage with any woman he met. Yet because of his religiosity and his everlasting sense of responsibility, he had trouble considering any lighter liaison. He went to graduate school for a master’s in English literature, and on to seminary, and during these years he had no trouble meeting women, because he was handsome, smart, witty, and kind. But he never dated any one girl for very long out of fear that one or the other of them might tip the balance