Read Online Very Far Away from Anywhere Else by Ursula K. Le Guin - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Ursula K. Le Guin
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practicing. I waited in the dark hall, and the music stopped, and she came down the stairs. She said, "Let's go for a walk."
"Its raining some."
"I don't care," she said. "I want to get out."
She put on her coat and we started up the street towards the park.
She still had that tense, high-flying look. It was going to take her a while to come back down.
"What's been happening with you?" she said after we'd gone half a block.
"Nothing much."
"Have you heard from any of the colleges?"
"Yeah, one."
"Which one?"
"MIT."
"What did they say?"
"Oh, they'll let me in."
"No money?"
"Yeah, tuition."
"Full tuition?"
"Yeah, right."
"Wow. That's great! So what did you decide?"
"Nothing."
"You waiting to hear from the others?"
"What do you mean?"
"Oh, I'm going to State, I guess."
"State? What for?"
"To get a college degree."
"But why there? You wanted to work with that fellow at MIT"
"Freshmen don't go and 'work with' Nobel Prize winners."
"They don't stay freshmen either, do they?"
"Yeah, well, I decided not to."
"I thought you said you didn't decide anything."
"There isn't anything to decide."
She shoved her hands in her coat pockets and hunched her head over and strode along clumping her heels. She looked mad. But after about a block she said, "Owen."
"Yeah."
"I am really confused."
"What about?"
I don't know how she could go on, I was answering her in such a cold, dumb, uninterested tone. But she went on.
"About Jade Beach and all that."
"Oh, yeah. Well, that's all right."
I didn't want to talk about it. It loomed up out of the fog much too big and solid and hard. I wanted to turn away and not look at it.
"I've been thinking about it a lot," she said. "See, I thought I had all that figured out. At least for a while. For the next couple of years anyhow. The way I figured, I didn't want to get really involved with anybody. Falling in love or love affairs or marrying or anything like that. I'm pretty young, and there's all these things I have to do. That sounds stupid, but it's the truth. If I could take sex lightly the way a lot of people do, that would be fine, but I don't think I can. I can't take anything lightly. Well, see, what was so beautiful was that we got to be friends. There's the kind of love that's lovers, and the kind of love that's friends. And I really thought it was that way. I thought we'd really made it, and everybody's wrong when they say men and women can't be friends. But I guess they're right. I was ... too theoretical...."
"I don't know," I said. I didn't want to say anything more, but it got dragged up out of me. "I think you were right, actually. I was pushing the sex stuff in where it didn't belong."
"Yeah, but it does belong," she said in this defeated, morose voice. And then in the fierce voice, "You can't just tell sex to go away and come back in two years because I'm busy just now!"
We went on another block. The rain was fine and misty so that you hardly felt it on your face, but it was beginning to drip down the back of my neck.
"The first fellow I went out with," she said, "I was sixteen and he was eighteen; he was an oboeist, oboeists are all crazy. He had a car and he kept parking it in places with a nice view and then, you know, sort of launching himself onto me. And he started saying, 'This is bigger than either of us, Natalie!' And it made me mad, and I finally said, 'Well it may be bigger than you, but it isn't bigger than me!'That sort of finished that. He was a jerk anyhow. So was I. But anyhow. Now I know what he meant."
After a while she went on, "But all the same..."
"What?"
"It doesn't belong. Does it?"
"What?"
"With you and me. It just doesn't work Does it?"
"No," I said.
She got mad then. She stopped walking and looked at me with that scowl. "You say yes, you say no, you say there isn't anything to decideâWell, there is! And did I decide right or didn't I?
I
don't know! Why do I have to make the decision? If we're friendsâand
"Its raining some."
"I don't care," she said. "I want to get out."
She put on her coat and we started up the street towards the park.
She still had that tense, high-flying look. It was going to take her a while to come back down.
"What's been happening with you?" she said after we'd gone half a block.
"Nothing much."
"Have you heard from any of the colleges?"
"Yeah, one."
"Which one?"
"MIT."
"What did they say?"
"Oh, they'll let me in."
"No money?"
"Yeah, tuition."
"Full tuition?"
"Yeah, right."
"Wow. That's great! So what did you decide?"
"Nothing."
"You waiting to hear from the others?"
"What do you mean?"
"Oh, I'm going to State, I guess."
"State? What for?"
"To get a college degree."
"But why there? You wanted to work with that fellow at MIT"
"Freshmen don't go and 'work with' Nobel Prize winners."
"They don't stay freshmen either, do they?"
"Yeah, well, I decided not to."
"I thought you said you didn't decide anything."
"There isn't anything to decide."
She shoved her hands in her coat pockets and hunched her head over and strode along clumping her heels. She looked mad. But after about a block she said, "Owen."
"Yeah."
"I am really confused."
"What about?"
I don't know how she could go on, I was answering her in such a cold, dumb, uninterested tone. But she went on.
"About Jade Beach and all that."
"Oh, yeah. Well, that's all right."
I didn't want to talk about it. It loomed up out of the fog much too big and solid and hard. I wanted to turn away and not look at it.
"I've been thinking about it a lot," she said. "See, I thought I had all that figured out. At least for a while. For the next couple of years anyhow. The way I figured, I didn't want to get really involved with anybody. Falling in love or love affairs or marrying or anything like that. I'm pretty young, and there's all these things I have to do. That sounds stupid, but it's the truth. If I could take sex lightly the way a lot of people do, that would be fine, but I don't think I can. I can't take anything lightly. Well, see, what was so beautiful was that we got to be friends. There's the kind of love that's lovers, and the kind of love that's friends. And I really thought it was that way. I thought we'd really made it, and everybody's wrong when they say men and women can't be friends. But I guess they're right. I was ... too theoretical...."
"I don't know," I said. I didn't want to say anything more, but it got dragged up out of me. "I think you were right, actually. I was pushing the sex stuff in where it didn't belong."
"Yeah, but it does belong," she said in this defeated, morose voice. And then in the fierce voice, "You can't just tell sex to go away and come back in two years because I'm busy just now!"
We went on another block. The rain was fine and misty so that you hardly felt it on your face, but it was beginning to drip down the back of my neck.
"The first fellow I went out with," she said, "I was sixteen and he was eighteen; he was an oboeist, oboeists are all crazy. He had a car and he kept parking it in places with a nice view and then, you know, sort of launching himself onto me. And he started saying, 'This is bigger than either of us, Natalie!' And it made me mad, and I finally said, 'Well it may be bigger than you, but it isn't bigger than me!'That sort of finished that. He was a jerk anyhow. So was I. But anyhow. Now I know what he meant."
After a while she went on, "But all the same..."
"What?"
"It doesn't belong. Does it?"
"What?"
"With you and me. It just doesn't work Does it?"
"No," I said.
She got mad then. She stopped walking and looked at me with that scowl. "You say yes, you say no, you say there isn't anything to decideâWell, there is! And did I decide right or didn't I?
I
don't know! Why do I have to make the decision? If we're friendsâand
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