Daddy and Ursula went to Charleston together the next week, and I think they talked about all that champagne, because there wasn't any more after that. At least when Ursula was there. And, as a matter of fact, the next time Max brought out champagne was the day after the production of As You Like It. The performance was in mid-April so as not to interfere with all the academic stuff that acc.u.mulates in the last semester.

As You Like It was a big success, and I even got my own curtain call, and everybody said what a pity it was to put in all that work for one performance.

But it was worth it, at least for me.

Max called me over to celebrate. Ursula had been to see me play Celia but had flown to New York in the morning for some kind of big consultation. Max brought out a bottle of champagne, but we had only one gla.s.s each, and with it a lot of fried chicken which Nettie had fixed for us, and a big ca.s.serole of okra, onions, and tomatoes. I don't like okra, I think you have to be born to it, and I told Max I was eating it first to get it out of the way.

That weekend there was a school dance, and I went with the guy who played Orlando. Rosalind was going steady with another senior. We were to meet at the school, so I drove Xan and Kate. Xan was going stag, and he said he didn't trust Kate's date to bring her home.

If Daddy wanted me to have a warning about booze, 99 /.

I got it. The girl who played Phebe got sick all over herself.

'Go help her clean up,' Xan said disgustedly. 'The kids she came with are all stoned, and so's Kate's so-called escort.'

Kate came and helped me.

Not that Cowpertown High is full of alcoholics and junkies. Just a few, like any other high school. But even a few is too many.

After we got Phebe moderately tidy, Xan and Kate wanted to go home. I was actually having a good time with some of the kids from the play, who seemed aware of my existence for the first time. The boy who played Oliver was dancing with me when Xan came over, followed by Kate, who was followed by half a dozen boys. I didn't want to leave, but I was the one with the driver's license.

And maybe it was better to leave while I was doing well and wasn't what the Cowpertowners still call a wallflower.

We talked about the dance the next night at dinner, and I suppose it was a good and maybe unusual thing that we could talk with our parents.

'Pot is an ambition damper,' Xan said in his most dogmatic voice.

'You're right,' Daddy agreed. 'But on what do you base your conclusions?'

'The kids who use pot regularly aren't doing much, and they don't seem to care.'

Den put in, 'I'm pitching in the next game between Mulletville and Cowpertown.

Y'all coming?'

Kate picked up on Xan's last remark. 'They didn't 100.learn their lines for As You Like it , and they simply dropped some of the light cues. The shepherdesses were practically in the dark.'

'Hey, you should see me do the double flip.' Johnny tried to get our attention.

Xan cut across his words. 'It hasn't helped the tennis team.'

'Any addiction's a bad thing,' Daddy agreed.

Peggy said loudly, 'We're going to have an addic sale at school.'

'Xan's addicted to tennis,' Den said.

'When do you think I'll be old enough to wear a bra?' Peggy shouted loudly enough so that she was finally heard.

'A long time, if you're anything like Polly,' Xan said, and went on, 'I don't want to be addicted to anything. I don't want some chemical to be in control of my body. Or mind.'

'A lot of kids are smoking,' Kate added. 'Not just pot. Cigarettes.'

'Yukh.' Den made a face. 'With all the pollution we have no choice about breathing, why add to it?'

'Smoking's gross,' Peggy said.

'More rice and gravy, please, please" Rosy jogged Mother's arm.

'We can't do anything about acid rain,' Xan continued as though there had been no interruptions or interpolations, 'or red tides, but we don't have to put gunk into our lungs on purpose.'

Den grinned at me. 'Or does he mean on porpoise?'

At least Xan and Kate hadn't called me Puritan Pol.

Later, while we were brushing our teeth, Kate asked me, 'Have you ever tried pot?'

I shook my head. 'Minority me.'

101.

'I don't like it. Don't worry, I haven't smoked here, it was last year in Boston. I hated it. You know what, I think it's more square to try pot than not to. I hope your parents don't think Cowpertown is unique. It's no worse than any place else.'

'I know,' I agreed.

'And at least we have swimming and crew almost all year round. And Shakespeare. You were really good, Pol.'

That was nice of Kate, and I thanked her. Playing Celia had done me no harm at school.

I was in my Celia costume, but I was not in the Forest of Arden the kids had made with branches of trees hung with Spanish moss. I doubt if there was Spanish moss in the real Forest of Arden, but it was a pretty set.

Renny was dressed in the forest-green costume Orlando had worn. I was dreaming.

In Athens, I was dreaming of Renny, who led me under a tree which became enormous, looming up through the roof of the stage at the end of the school gym.

Why Renny, in Athens, two nights in a row?

Why not Renny?

I saw him maybe every other week. Sometimes we went to the movies, if anything decent was showing in Cowpertown. Usually we sat in our booth at Petros' and talked. The place smelled of cheese and tomatoes and a whiff of fish from the other restaurant on the dock. Renny went on and on about his pet South American diseases. He talked to me about medicine as though I could understand everything he said. He thought I was terrific as Celia, and he'd had to get someone to cover 102.

for him in order to come see the show. I liked the way he never put me down. I liked the way he kissed me, giving, rather than taking.

Sometimes he talked about his girl, Jacinta, in Chile. They'd really had a big thing going. Someone would have to do a lot of measuring up to get Renny's attention. Sometimes when he kissed me I understood that steady, st.u.r.dy Renny could unleash a lot of pa.s.sion at the right moment, and with the right person.

I.

was safe, because I was too young.

I wasn't too young with Max, and that's one reason I loved being with her.

Chronology didn't enter into it. Max was as young as I was, and I was as old as Max. And when Ursula was there, I was treated as an equal.

I had emerged from my dream of Renny into that half-waking, half-sleeping state where thoughts are not really directed but shift around like the patterns in a kaleidoscope. I slid deeper into sleep, thinking to myself about the glory that was Greece and the grandeur that was Rome.

I woke to the glory that was Greece, about five minutes before breakfast was brought and set out on the balcony.

It was another blue-and-gold day. I had a date with a young man who would set my cousin Kate reeling. I felt moderately reeling myself.

Zachary and I started off by going to the museum, because he said it was mandatory. There was far more than I could absorb in an hour, though it wasn't quite as overwhelming as the Prado in Madrid. Nevertheless, it was a city museum, and it would take days to see everything. There were some marvelous, very thin gold masks, 103 / ancient, thousands and thousands of years old, and yet they reminded me of faces in Modigliani paintings. We saw the statue of the Diadumenus. He seemed to be tiptoeing with life, even though parts of the statue were missing.

Zachary kept checking his watch, and after exactly one hour he said, "Okay, that's enough culture. Let's go."

"Where?"

The VW Bug was waiting for us, and as he opened the door for me, he said, "A funny old place called Osias Lukas."

"What's that?"

"It's an old monastery tucked into a cup in the hills, and there are good picnic places nearby."

"Osias Lukas-Blessed Luke?"

"Yes. His chapel was built in the tenth century, I think, and there are some nice icons. And the mosaics have been well restored. It's a small enough place so you can see it all and not get saturated. Osias Lukas was a monk who, allegedly, was a healer."

Why do I dislike so intensely the skepticism, the self-protectiveness, of allegedly? It's part of the legal jargon Zachary was inheriting, but it still strikes me as a cowardly word.

Max's att.i.tude about theology makes more sense to me than Zachary's dogmatic atheism. Max was always willing to take a metaphysical chance, Sandy said once; she was an eager observer, tolerant of human foible, open to the unexplainable, but n.o.body's fool.

We stopped at the entrance of Osias Lukas to buy postcards for me to send home.

There was a comfortable feeling to the cl.u.s.ter of buildings nestled against the hills, protected from weather and the anger of the G.o.ds. I wondered if people had truly been healed by Osias 104.

Lukas. Ursula, who didn't talk about religion, agreed with Daddy and Dennys that not only att.i.tude but faith had done almost unbelievable things in the way of healing.

They were scientists, properly skeptical, but open.

I wondered if Osia Theola in Cyprus was going to be anything like this protected place. Osia Theola, Max had told me, was reported to have been given the divine gift of truth after she had seen her vision. People still came to her church to pray, to seek the truth.

'Superst.i.tious, perhaps,' Max said, 'but if one should go to the cave of Osia Theola to seek the truth, one would need to be extremely brave.'

"Daydreaming?" Zachary asked me. We were standing in the chapel and I was looking at the fresco over the altar without seeing it.

"I was just thinking Theola and Lukas might have liked each other."

"They were nearly a thousand years apart," Zachary said.

I thought I'd better not say that people like Lukas and Theola probably weren't bound by chronology.

Suddenly we were surrounded by a group of j.a.panese tourists, and Zachary said, "Come on, let's get out of here. The Hilton has packed us a super picnic, andI know a good spot."

We sat on a hillside overlooking water and sky. Zachary made me feel amazingly happy about myself.

Then he spoiled it by pulling me to him and kissing me, much more of a kiss than I wanted. I pulled away.

"Why not?" he asked.

"We don't even know each other."

105 /.

"So?", "Getting to know people takes time."

"But we make music together. You like me, don't you?"

"Very much."

"And you told me you aren't a virgin."

I pulled further away. "I didn't say that."

"Your silence did. Or am I wrong? Are you a virgin?"

Silence was admission, but I could not speak. My throat was dry, my tongue tied.

He put one hand on my cheek and turned my face toward him. "Did it hurt you very much? Was the guy a b.a.s.t.a.r.d?"

I moved my head negatively against the pressure of his hand.

"Sweet Polly. Someone has hurt you, and you're putting a hard sh.e.l.l of protection about your wound. But unless you break the sh.e.l.l, the hurt can't be healed. And I'm speaking from very painful experience."

I nodded. Blinked. I would not cry. Would not.

"I won't do anything you don't want me to do," Zachary said. "You're beautiful, Polly."

Max had made me see that inner beauty was better than outer beauty, that it could, indeed, create outer beauty.

'You shone as Celia,' she said, 'in that depressing gym, on a dreadful stage, with appalling lighting. You had a radiance n.o.body else in the cast even approached.'

We were in her studio, which was a separate building to the north of the house, with the entire north wall made of gla.s.s. I was sitting for the portrait in the seash.e.l.l.

106.

'You have elegant bones. Tilt your head just slightly to your right. Beautiful slender wrists and ankles, like princesses in fairy tales. Bet Cousin Kate envies them.'

I didn't think Kate envied anything about me.

'Don't move,' Max said. 'What splendid eyes you have, like bits of fallen sky, and wide apart, always suggesting that you see things invisible to lesser mortals.'