What’s Happening? Read Free Page A

don’t come through with any emotion in your face at all. Like it’s a wall and I can’t see on the other side.” As she spoke, she wondered what Bill thought about her; if he thought she was nice.
    â€œThat’s good,” Bill said flatly. “It protects my feelings from the God damn world so nobody can step on them. Everybody else does it, don’t they? Nobody shows the real picture of themselves. They put on a show of what they want to be.”
    She understood what he was saying, and the understanding of his bitterness made her want him to know she understood. She wanted to communicate their “sympatico.”
    â€œYou’re not like that, though, like other people. … I don’t know, maybe you are, but you don’t seem like that. You seem different from the rest of people . I don’t know how to explain it but …” She looked at him lingeringly, her eyes warm and understanding.
    â€œYeah, but like when I put on a blank wall I’m not trying to fool myself, you know? I’m trying to fool other people. This way no one knows what’s going on inside, you know? Like I can be myself but nobody knows about it. I can play bits without anyone knowing what’s coming off. Nobody can hurt my secret feelings, laugh or mock them.”
    They each moved their chair closer to the other, smiling at the coincidence.
    â€œBut that’s just it. When you do want to get through to a person you don’t.”
    They stared into each other’s eyes. A deeper, poignant meaning loomed behind their eyes and their words. The conversation was becoming charged with unspoken meaning.
    â€œLook,” Bill explained seriously, “when I want to get through to somebody I tell them. That’s a big thing with me. I like to be frank and say exactly what I mean.” He groped for a more tangible reaction on her part to the underlying excitement in their physical communication.
    â€œRita! Rita!” called Jeannie. “We’re going to Dani’s for coffee. You coming?”
    â€œYou want to go for coffee?” Rita asked Bill. Their eyes met and she was asking him with her flickering eyes too.
    â€œBaby, I just want to be with you,” he answered softly. “I’m not much on coffee anyway.”
    She looked at him, still studying, a slight pleased smile warming her mouth. “No. We’re going to stay for a while.”
    â€œOkay. See you later.”
    Jeannie and Josh walked to the exit. Bill and Rita watched them. Now Rita turned back and their eyes met again, sparklingly aware of each other. The sounds of drums and people faded … time lingered … silently, … and now Rita smiled a little, mysteriously.
    â€œSo, you were saying you like to be frank.”
    â€œYeah.…” Bill took a matchbook from Rita’s hand and elaborately lit a bolstering cigarette. He shook the match, blew out a spume of smoke, and returned the matches to her hand. Her skin was warm and smooth to his touch. He grasped her hand, studied the deep lines in the palm, then looked up, peering at her intently, continuing to press her hand in his. “It’s the best way to say what you mean.” He scanned her face for a lead.
    â€œI like people to be frank and come right out and say what they mean,” Rita said leadingly.
    Both were thinking furiously, belying an imposed outer calm. Neither wanted to make the first thrust, yet both wanted to pursue the conversation further.
    â€œYou’re pretty frank,” he commented.
    â€œWhy don’t you be frank?”
    â€œOkay, let’s be frank. I dig you. I don’t know you, and you don’t know me, … but I like you, and I figure you might like me, … and why don’t we get to know each other better?”
    â€œThat’s a good suggestion. Anything else?” She probed further.
    â€œWhat else is there? Maybe you can suggest something.”
    She