For Rouenna by Sigrid Nunez

Author:Sigrid Nunez
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Farrar, Straus and Giroux
Published: 2011-04-26T00:00:00+00:00

Silver lining: Polly woke from her crisis a different person. It was as if traces of the Librium remained in her system. She was calmer, more efficient on duty, more relaxed off. So: she was going to make it through her tour after all. She even let Rouenna drag her to a couple of parties. But she still would not date. Most of these guys, she told Rouenna, were not her type. Rouenna didn’t get it. As far as she could see, every type was here, from West Coast beach boy to Staten Island hood. Except for the wimps and the spit-shined ass-kissers, they were all her type, she confessed. Polly teased her. “Lieutenant, you’re the kind of girl that gives army women a bad name.”

Was Polly a virgin? Was that it? Polly laughed and shook her head. Then how did she do it? Look around: every male heartthrob was right here on this base. Troy Donahue, James Dean, Tab Hunter, Richard Chamberlain, Sal Mineo, Warren Beatty, Steve McQueen. And Polly could have had her pick! Polly could have had them all! Again, Rouenna found herself wondering about that big brother.

And here was another cause for wonder: How could anyone as pretty as Polly care so little about her own looks? Without a doubt she was the least conceited girl Rouenna had ever met.

The two women are together one day when they run into a unit returning to base from the field. The men are the usual sight: blear-eyed, gaunt-cheeked, filthy, and dazed, hardly aware of anything around them. Then one mud-caked kid glances their way and sees Polly. He stops, shakes his head a few times as if to clear it, then comes staggering over, eyes never leaving her face, and when he is standing right in front of her he gets down on his knees. Never says a word. It is the kind of thing that happens to Polly all the time, the kind of thing she hates. She turns and walks away, leaving Rouenna to think how if it were she—if she, Rouenna, had that kind of power—she would not be able to resist using it. Like a whip she would use it. To get things—to get whatever she wanted. To make people dance attendance on her. To make people sorry. No doors or curtains in the women’s shower room, so Rouenna has seen the full range of her buddy’s arsenal, and she knows that if she had anything like what Polly has she would use it every day of her life, use it as she has seen so many beautiful women do. Use it to bring people to their knees.

These were not thoughts to be proud of, and Rouenna knew it, and so Polly’s behavior seemed to her not just wondrous but a sign of good character. She’s a better person than I am, Rouenna sometimes thought. It did not make her like Polly less.

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