Part 5 (1/2)

”Thank you.”

He bent to kiss her but she avoided him and rose to her feet. ”Got to go now.”

”So soon?”

She nodded and moved towards the bushes above the bank.

”But when will I see you again?”

”Coming swimming tomorrow?”

”Yes.”

”Maybe I can get away for more occupational therapy then.”

She stooped behind the bushes, and Harry saw a flash of white.

”You _are_ a nurse, aren't you,” he muttered. ”On the staff, I suppose. I should have known.”

”All right, so I am. What's that got to do with it?”

”And I suppose you were telling the truth when you said Manschoff sent you here. This _is_ just part of my therapy, isn't it?”

She nodded briefly as she slipped into her uniform. ”Does that bother you, Harry?”

He bit his lip. When he spoke, his voice was low. ”Yes, d.a.m.n it, it does. I mean, I got the idea--at least, I was hoping--that this wasn't just a matter of carrying out an a.s.signment on your part.”

She looked up at him gravely. ”Who said anything about an a.s.signment, darling?” she murmured. ”I volunteered.”

And then she was gone.

Then she was gone, and then she came back that night in Harry's dreams, and then she was at the river the next day and it was better than the dreams, better than the day before.

Sue told him she had been watching him for weeks now. And she had gone to Manschoff and suggested it, and she was very glad. And they had to meet here, out in the open, so as not to complicate the situation or disturb any of the other patients.

So Harry naturally asked her about the other patients, and the whole general setup, and she said Dr. Manschoff would answer all those questions in due time. But right now, with only an hour or so to spare, was he going to spend it all asking for information? Matters were accordingly adjusted to their mutual satisfaction, and it was on that basis that they continued their almost daily meetings for some time.

The next few months were perhaps the happiest Harry had ever known.

The whole interval took on a dreamlike quality--idealized, romanticized, yet basically sensual. There is probably such a dream buried deep within the psyche of every man, Harry reflected, but to few is it ever given to realize its reality. His early questioning att.i.tude gave way to a mood of mere acceptance and enjoyment. This was the primitive drama, the very essence of the male-female relations.h.i.+p; Adam and Eve in the Garden. Why waste time seeking the Tree of Knowledge?

And it wasn't until summer pa.s.sed that Harry even thought about the Serpent.

One afternoon, as he sat waiting for Sue on the river bank, he heard a sudden movement in the brush behind him.

”Darling?” he called, eagerly.

”Please, you don't know me _that_ well.” The deep masculine voice carried overtones of amus.e.m.e.nt.

Flus.h.i.+ng, Harry turned to confront the intruder. He was a short, stocky, middle-aged man whose bristling gray crewcut almost matched the neutral shades of his gray orderly's uniform.