Brian stood for a moment longer until Barbara said, “I’ll see you at lunch,” and then he backed and disappeared down the hall. When he was gone, Barbara said, “Are you tricking me?”
”I don’t know. Something’s going on. I’m a little confused.”
“You’re confused. Who are you? Where have you been, Keith Zetterstrom? I’ve been going to school with you all these years and I’ve never even seen you and then we’re delivering bowling balls together and now you’re sick. Where were you last year? What are you doing? What are you going to do next year?”
“Last year I got a C in Spanish with Mrs. Whitehead. It was gruesome. This year is somewhat worse, with a few exceptions, and all in all, I’d say the sky is the limit.” Keith took her wrist. “Quote me on that.”
Barbara took a sharp breath through her nose and quietly began to cry.
“Oh, let’s not,” Keith said, pushing a handkerchief into her hand. “Here. Think of this.” He moved her back against the wall, out of the way of students passing by. “If I was having a good year, I might never have spoken to you. Extreme times require extreme solutions. I went all those years sitting in the back and then I had to get sick to start talking. Now that’s something, isn’t it? Besides, I’ve got a plan. I’ll pick you up at nine. Listen: bring your pajamas and a robe.”
Barbara looked at him over the handkerchief.”
“Hey. Trust me. You were the one who was crying. I’ll see you at nine o’clock. This will cheer you up.”
THE HOSPITAL WAS on the hill, and Keith parked in the farthest corner of the vast parking lot, one hundred yards from the nearest car. Beneath them in the dark night, the city teemed and shimmered, a million lights.
“It looks like a city on another planet,” Barbara Anderson said as she stepped out of the truck.
“It does, indeed,” Keith said, grabbing his bag. “Now if we only knew if the residents are friendly.” He took her arm. “And now I’m going to cheer you up. I’m going to take you in that building,” Keith pointed at the huge hospital, lit like an ocean liner in the night, “and buy you a package of gum.”
They changed clothes in the fifth-floor restrooms and met in the hallway, in pajamas and robes, and stuffed their street clothes into Barbara’s tennis bag.
“Oh, I feel better already,” Barbara said.
“Now take my arm like this,” Keith moved next to her and placed her hand above his elbow, “and look down like this.” He put his chin on his chest. Barbara tried it. “No, not such a sad face, more serious, be strong. Good. Now walk just like this, little stab steps, real slow.”
They started down the hallway, creeping along one side. “How far is it?” Barbara said. People passed them walking quietly in groups of two or three. It was the end of visiting hours. “A hundred yards to the elevators and down three floors, then out a hundred more. Keep your face down.”
“Are people looking at us?”
“Well, yes. They’ve never seen a braver couple. And they’ve never seen such chemical pajamas. What are those little deals, lambs?”
They continued along the windows, through the lobby and down the elevator, in which they stood side by side, their four hands clasped together, while they were looking at their tennis shoes. The other people in the car gave them room out of respect. The main hall was worse, thick with people, everyone going five miles an hour faster than Barbara and Keith, who shuffled along whispering.
In the gift shop, finally, they parted the waters. The small room was crowded, but the people stepped aside and Keith and Barbara stood right at the counter. “A package of chewing gum, please,” Keith said.
“Which kind?” said the candy striper.
“Sugarless. My sister and I want our teeth to last forever.”
THEY RAN TO the truck, leaping and swinging their arms. Keith threw the bag containing their clothes into the truck bed and climbed into the cab. Barbara climbed in, laughing, and Keith said, “Come on, face the facts: you feel better! You’re cured!” And she slid across the seat meaning to hug him but it changed for both of them and they kissed. She pulled him to her side and they kissed again, one of her arms around his neck and one of her hands on his face. They fell into a spin there in the truck, eyes closed, holding on to each other in their pajamas, her robe open, their heads against the backseat, kissing. Barbara shifted and Keith sat up; the look they exchanged held. Below them the city’s lights flickered. Barbara cupped her hand carefully on the top of Keith’s bald scalp. She pulled him forward and they kissed. When she looked in his eyes again she knew what was going to happen, and it was a powerful feeling that gave her strange new certainty as she went for his mouth again.