Guests on Earth by Lee Smith

Author:Lee Smith [Smith, Lee]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781616203801
Amazon: 1616203803
Publisher: A Shannon Ravenel Book
Published: 2014-05-12T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 8

I HAD TROUBLE BELIEVING that Dixie had never been to college, for she seemed to know everything about everything, not only painting but books, too. She and Richard Overholser fell into long literary conversations whenever we went over to their house for dinner. I especially remember one Saturday night when I was helping Claudia clear the dishes while he and Dixie discussed existentialism, “a philosophy that emphasizes the uniqueness and isolation of each individual in a universe that doesn’t give a damn,” as Richard explained it to me. I had never heard of it. “So each person is solely responsible for giving his own life meaning and for living that life passionately and sincerely,” he finished up.

“But what about God?” asked I, the product of all those nuns.

“He doesn’t exist,” Richard proclaimed. “It’s all up to you girls.”

“That’s sort of what Hemingway is saying, isn’t he?” Dixie said.

“Well, yes. An even better reading choice would be Albert Camus.”

“Albert who?” Dixie had her pencil out.

“C-A-M-U-S. And look here, Dixie,” he added in his emphatic Northern way, “why not enroll in some college courses when you get back to Georgia? You’d enjoy them. Be damn good for you, too, I’ll wager.”

“Now Richard, you know that’s not allowed, we’re not supposed to get involved here—” Claudia tossed over her shoulder as she headed back to the kitchen.

“Well, why not?” He pounded on the table. “This is a brilliant woman, why shouldn’t she go to college? For God’s sake!”

“Oh no,” Dixie said quickly. “Frank wouldn’t like it.” I perked up; she never, ever mentioned her husband’s name. “A, there’s no college back home, for miles and miles around. I’d have to drive all the way down to Tallahassee, a day’s trip. Assuming he’d let me drive at all. Assuming he’d let me spend the night. And B, you do know that’s not the purpose of therapy at Highland, don’t you? That’s not why he sent me up here. I am being ‘reeducated, retrained’ . . .” Though she used the mimicking voice, her smile was sweet and resigned.

“Retrained for what?” Richard pushed back his chair.

“For marriage, I guess,” she said. “I wasn’t very good at it before.”

Richard picked up the serving plates and abruptly left the table. “You know what I think of all that,” he called back over his shoulder.

“Well . . .” Dixie said calmly, vacantly, playing with her hair as she looked away, into some distance we couldn’t see.

I sank down at the table beside her.

Claudia came back in to join us. “Why not sign up for a correspondence course, then, honey? I know they have them at Goddard College, where I went to school—I can find out for you. You would enjoy it, and then perhaps you wouldn’t be so bored by the routine at home. I am sure that your husband wants you to be happy, doesn’t he?”

“Lord! He’s such a busy man, that’s the furtherest thing from his mind!” Dixie laughed and shook her head no, vehemently. Again, the flash of skin, the bald patch at the temple.

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