"John's Mother"
"John's Mother"
The burgundy leaves swept across the cobblestone sidewalk, swirling upward with a draft that cycloned high into the air, a fanfare of flurry, announcing her arrival like an airborne red carpet too energized to remain prone. Everyone acknowledged her presence. No matter how many times she came to visit the school, everyone always stopped what they were doing to watch her walk across their campus. They couldn’t help it. She didn’t seem to walk at all, but rather, float, effortlessly above the ground, entourage in tow, smiling at admiring bystanders, a picture of pure royalty.
However, from inside the boys’ dormitory, from an upper story window, inside his best friend John’s room, Jimmy was not watching. Perhaps if he had ashed his cigarette out the window a few seconds earlier, he would have seen her coming. Perhaps if he had listened to his instincts, he would have known. They had never met. They had never spoken. But ironically, he was thinking about her at that very moment. Pictures of her adorned the room he was in. From a frame, she was smiling at him, causing Jimmy’s mind, in its pensive state, to replay excerpts from past conversations he and John had had about her. Although John always defended her lovingly, it seemed to Jimmy that she didn’t truly understand him. He thought of their long talks after the drama club meetings, or hiding out in the basement of the dormitory, where they would get stoned together, where John could finally be himself, away from the unrelenting attention, to gush about his dreams. He would tell Jimmy all the things he wished for but knew could never have. Jimmy had been amazed to discover that John actually envied him. How was that possible? John seemed to have everything, and yet in a heartbeat, Jimmy felt that John would trade places with him. He remembered the look on John’s face in the audience while watching him in the school play, the admiration, the look of being completely alive and captivated. Why couldn’t she see that? Why couldn’t John’s own mother see that?
“This way, Madame,” the dean offered, opening the door of the boys’ dormitory for her with a bow.
It was after these lengthy conversations that John had given Jimmy his room key, knowing sometimes that Jimmy, who didn’t have his own room, liked to have a place to relax, or nap until algebra class was safely over. One of these days Jimmy would study for algebra . . . just not today. Right now he desperately needed a nap. He thought about the joys of the previous night, edging aside the Led Zeppelin song that seemed to be stuck in his head, proud that the only remaining evidence of the party was a mild hangover and a scratch on his left thigh, obtained while climbing back into his parent’s house through his sister’s window. Now, crawling into John’s bed, he pulled off his ‘school-regulation’ pants, seeking comfort in the freshly laundered bedding. His politely ironed shirt soon joined his pants in a pile on the floor. He closed his eyes and was instantly asleep.
John smiled when he saw his mother in the foyer of the boys’ dormitory.
“Are you ready to go?” She asked him, having just requested that he join her for lunch off campus. “Wouldn’t you like to take your sweater?” John agreed that a sweater would be smart in the cool autumn air, and together they walked up the ornate stairway to his room, talking and laughing, excited to see each other again.
Their voices outside the door became louder as they approached the room, but it was not enough to stir Jimmy from the sublime trance he was in.
They opened the door. John stared in silent horror at the sight and smell that greeted them. A young student, with messy blond hair, lying on the bed, one arm stretched over his head, the other strewn across his exposed chest. One leg was bent towards them, the knee of a well-formed bare leg protruding from the sheet, which barely covered his body. They saw the pile of school clothes on the floor, they smelled the telltale smoke, which lingered throughout the room. They both stared in surprise. What finally did wake Jimmy up was the familiar exasperated gasp of his friend. He opened his eyes to find John and his mother standing in the opened doorway, John looking as though he might faint. His mother looked perplexed, but she maintained complete composure, raising her eyebrows at Jimmy, and folding her arms in front of her. Jimmy opted to look at her instead of John. He felt too guilty to look at John, who was silently admonishing himself for having ever given Jimmy his room key. And Jimmy couldn’t help but be slightly awe-struck at seeing John’s mother in person for the first time. Looking wide-eyed and fearful, Jimmy silently pleaded with her to not bust him. He really couldn’t afford to get in trouble again. Salvation came in the sound of a voice, one of John’s teachers, calling him from down the hallway.
Sensing, through years of experience, the potential for some sort of scandal, John’s mother immediately sprang into action. “Go, Johnny,” she instructed him, “I’ll take care of your friend.” She indicated for him to follow the voice, to distract whoever was calling his name, and she quietly slipped into the room, closing and locking the door behind her, considering her options for this blonde, apparently stoned, half naked intruder in her son’s room.
Jimmy had sat up in bed, forgetting about his state of undress and letting the sheet fall to the side. She turned around and they looked at each other, both in a heightened state of vigilance due to their quandary.
“Hi,” he finally said, trying his best to sound cavalier, yet innocent.
She wasn’t sure what to make of him. She walked towards him, maintaining a demeanor of austerity but smiling in spite of herself. Still with her arms folded, she patiently sighed at him. She felt indignant at being in the presence of such flagrant indecency, but at the same time confused by the realization that she was glad she had sent Johnny away, glad that she alone would be taking care of this matter.
“Please don’t tell anyone I’m here,” he begged. “I’m already in trouble for skipping algebra, and it would make my parents look bad. I’m lucky to even be here and they don’t need this. Please . . . please . . . “
She looked at him thoughtfully, slowly realizing she recognized him. “You’re Jimmy, aren’t you?” The sound of her voice mesmerized him. It was the same tone he had heard her use for TV interviews, but now it was real, barely louder than a whisper but emanating such strength and self-assuredness that Jimmy at once felt comforted, felt himself dissolving into her complete control. “I saw you last week . . . in the play,” she continued. “Johnny couldn’t stop talking about it. He often talks about you.” She walked toward him again, her wide-set brown eyes monitoring the fear level in his blue ones. She sensed that she had to be careful with him. It was as if she were walking towards a stray cat, one that might either pounce if she got too close, or dash away to hide himself if she tried to pet him. “He admires you. He says he wants to be an actor like you.”
Jimmy was delighted to learn that she had been in the audience, and even more delighted to learn that John had talked about him in such an endearing way. He smiled, but felt too shy to say anything. The whole situation seemed surreal. He was amazed at her beauty. She was so much older than he was, and completely different from all the other moms. He had heard others call her a “good boarding school mom” a term which he had always considered an oxymoron, but now seeing her, he couldn’t help but be enamored. She didn’t seem like a mom at all. He tried to stealthily glance down at her, below her face, impressed with her slender elegance and style. So different from the other moms.
“He says you’re leaving school,” she said, a look of concern entering her face.
“Yeah,” Jimmy answered with a shrug, unsure of how to elaborate. “I’m going to New York to be an actor.”
“An actor,” she sighed again, smiling and shaking her head slightly.
Jimmy felt a tinge put-off by the comment, unsure of how to interpret it. Feeling a physical chill as well, he glanced down, slightly mortified to notice that he was still clad in only his underwear. But at the same time he felt an odd sense of excitement at the realization that she was seeing him that way too. Or had she even noticed? She seemed completely unaffected by his presence. Suddenly, he wanted her to notice. He wanted to be affecting her. He looked down at his body, feeling a heightened sense of self-awareness as he felt her eyes on him too.
Slowly, he stood up, stretching his body upright in front of hers, not reaching for his clothes, not trying to hide himself. He stood there, letting her see his bare thighs and flat stomach, and his arms and his firm young torso, and the sparse golden hair that lightly covered his whole body. With an arrogant stance he posed contrapposto for her, like a marble Roman sculpture, on display for her, waiting for her reaction, imagining that she desired him, imagining that she wanted him to strip completely, imagining her touching him and taking him across her knee and...
She appeared immune.
“That seems like a profession well suited for you,” she continued, now looking straight at him. His display of bravado was failing miserably. She seemed to find him more amusing than arousing. “You made quite an impression on everyone. Especially Johnny.”
“John is the one who should be an actor,” Jimmy finally began gushing, throwing out words as if they would somehow shield him from the embarrassment of his futile attempt at enticing her. “Don’t you think so? Do you even realize how good he is? How badly he wants to be an actor? You should see him. You know, I think that’s why he spaces off in class sometimes - he’s always dreaming about it. And why wouldn’t he want to? You know, he likes it so much more than politics or economics or any of that crap. And if you were him, wouldn’t you love the chance to be someone else...even if just for a minute-“
He stopped, remembering who he was talking to. He realized his words were probably too abrasive. She challenged him now, stepping close to him. She was fully aware of the nakedness of the young body in front of her, and had noticed what was beginning to happen between his legs, but she gave no hint, instead, she leaned in menacingly close to his face.
“No son of mine shall be an actor,” she stated deliberately. “He is not suited for it. He is destined for other things. He is going to be a great man, an important man like his father. He will not be an actor. He can’t do that. He can’t. Acting is for people like - “ She stopped. She knew she shouldn’t have said that and was instantly sorry. He was hurt and startled by her words. He leaned back slightly, flushing as if he had been slapped.
“For people like...what?” he asked, the hurt in his voice showing through.
It had thrown her. She was stumped, an eloquent explanation eluding her. How could she ever explain it all to him? She was overwhelmed by the thought of trying to explain all the reasons why she could never let Johnny do that: the expectations of her, of him, the pressure, the legacy, the experiences she had had with certain Hollywood types. All the reasons she had told herself existed, but how could she explain them to the naïve eyes that now implored her? Perhaps none of it was even true. Perhaps there was no reason at all.
“He...just...can’t.”
It wasn’t an answer and they both knew it. But the anger and humiliation Jimmy had felt a minute ago was short-lived. He looked at her, saw her eyes reddening. She suddenly looked resigned, accepting of a fate which wouldn’t be, couldn’t ever be, changed. A fate that wrapped itself around her family and her son, a fate that would not allow her son to do what she herself knew was his true passion. Jimmy saw now that she knew all of that. She knew all about John’s dreams. She knew what he really wanted. Why had she never told her son that she knew?
This sudden understanding clarified everything. He stared at her, taken aback at how the dynamic between them had shifted so suddenly. Her cool exterior had collapsed and he now had control of her and the conversation and it seemed that by continuing to stare her down, he would be able to make her tremble and give in to whatever desire he fancied. But he did none of those things. Instead he continued to read the story her eyes were telling, aware that his urge now was to hold and comfort her. To protect her. He wanted to let her know that he understood, that Johnny understood too and would eagerly do whatever she expected of him.
He stepped closer, close enough that she could feel his breath. He could tell that she was aware of the change too. She seemed fully aware of him now. She looked down at his mouth and then up to his eyes, lingering on his handsome nose and jaw and cheekbones, which were chiseled, yet so soft. What was this boy doing to her? Why wasn’t she stopping him? He was standing inappropriately close now and she could smell the faint residue of his aftershave and the sweat which had accumulated on his body while he was sleeping. He was looking at her lips, an undeniably sultry, yet soothing expression on his face. He parted his lips, his breath becoming heavy, and stared right at her, his eyelids lowered.
“He just can’t,” she repeated, whispering now, whispering to Jimmy as if he were the only person in the world willing or able to hear her whisper, tears forming at the rims of her eyes. “But you can. And you’re good. Do it for him. Please.” Her hand reached out to grab his arm, seizing it, wrapping her slender fingers around it. They both looked at her hand in astonishment, as if it was disembodied from the rest of her.
A sudden noise outside the door jarred them both back into their current predicament. She let go, and turned to open the closet, quickly grabbing little John’s argyle-patterned sweater, then motioned for Jimmy to hide behind the closet door. She opened the window and flicked on the fan, and swiftly kicked Jimmy’s clothing pile under the bed. She communicated one last “stay quiet” gesture to him before opening the door to greet her son, his teacher, and the pieces of her ever-present entourage.
They all lingered in the doorway, exchanging pleasantries, her charming, confident demeanor completely restored. She wasted no time in announcing then that she was taking Johnny to lunch and they had to go.
Through the crack of the closet door, Jimmy watched them all, separated from them. He watched them getting ready to leave for their luncheon, realizing suddenly how truly separated he was from all of them. The entourage filed out ahead of her, leaving her alone to turn off the lights. She looked back, straining to catch a final glimpse of Jimmy through the closet door. He bravely peered out as well, their eyes meeting. A look passed between them, a look that started in each other’s eyes, but then comfortably and warmly continued onto each other’s bodies and then back up again. They would have several more encounters in the future, but this one moment always lingered strongly in his thoughts, and when he recalled it, as he often would for years to come, it seemed to him that she had blushed just then, smiling at him with the mischievous innocence of a schoolgirl.
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The burgundy leaves swept across the cobblestone sidewalk, swirling upward with a draft that cycloned high into the air, a fanfare of flurry, announcing her arrival like an airborne red carpet too energized to remain prone. Everyone acknowledged her presence. No matter how many times she came to visit the school, everyone always stopped what they were doing to watch her walk across their campus. They couldn’t help it. She didn’t seem to walk at all, but rather, float, effortlessly above the ground, entourage in tow, smiling at admiring bystanders, a picture of pure royalty.
However, from inside the boys’ dormitory, from an upper story window, inside his best friend John’s room, Jimmy was not watching. Perhaps if he had ashed his cigarette out the window a few seconds earlier, he would have seen her coming. Perhaps if he had listened to his instincts, he would have known. They had never met. They had never spoken. But ironically, he was thinking about her at that very moment. Pictures of her adorned the room he was in. From a frame, she was smiling at him, causing Jimmy’s mind, in its pensive state, to replay excerpts from past conversations he and John had had about her. Although John always defended her lovingly, it seemed to Jimmy that she didn’t truly understand him. He thought of their long talks after the drama club meetings, or hiding out in the basement of the dormitory, where they would get stoned together, where John could finally be himself, away from the unrelenting attention, to gush about his dreams. He would tell Jimmy all the things he wished for but knew could never have. Jimmy had been amazed to discover that John actually envied him. How was that possible? John seemed to have everything, and yet in a heartbeat, Jimmy felt that John would trade places with him. He remembered the look on John’s face in the audience while watching him in the school play, the admiration, the look of being completely alive and captivated. Why couldn’t she see that? Why couldn’t John’s own mother see that?
“This way, Madame,” the dean offered, opening the door of the boys’ dormitory for her with a bow.
It was after these lengthy conversations that John had given Jimmy his room key, knowing sometimes that Jimmy, who didn’t have his own room, liked to have a place to relax, or nap until algebra class was safely over. One of these days Jimmy would study for algebra . . . just not today. Right now he desperately needed a nap. He thought about the joys of the previous night, edging aside the Led Zeppelin song that seemed to be stuck in his head, proud that the only remaining evidence of the party was a mild hangover and a scratch on his left thigh, obtained while climbing back into his parent’s house through his sister’s window. Now, crawling into John’s bed, he pulled off his ‘school-regulation’ pants, seeking comfort in the freshly laundered bedding. His politely ironed shirt soon joined his pants in a pile on the floor. He closed his eyes and was instantly asleep.
John smiled when he saw his mother in the foyer of the boys’ dormitory.
“Are you ready to go?” She asked him, having just requested that he join her for lunch off campus. “Wouldn’t you like to take your sweater?” John agreed that a sweater would be smart in the cool autumn air, and together they walked up the ornate stairway to his room, talking and laughing, excited to see each other again.
Their voices outside the door became louder as they approached the room, but it was not enough to stir Jimmy from the sublime trance he was in.
They opened the door. John stared in silent horror at the sight and smell that greeted them. A young student, with messy blond hair, lying on the bed, one arm stretched over his head, the other strewn across his exposed chest. One leg was bent towards them, the knee of a well-formed bare leg protruding from the sheet, which barely covered his body. They saw the pile of school clothes on the floor, they smelled the telltale smoke, which lingered throughout the room. They both stared in surprise. What finally did wake Jimmy up was the familiar exasperated gasp of his friend. He opened his eyes to find John and his mother standing in the opened doorway, John looking as though he might faint. His mother looked perplexed, but she maintained complete composure, raising her eyebrows at Jimmy, and folding her arms in front of her. Jimmy opted to look at her instead of John. He felt too guilty to look at John, who was silently admonishing himself for having ever given Jimmy his room key. And Jimmy couldn’t help but be slightly awe-struck at seeing John’s mother in person for the first time. Looking wide-eyed and fearful, Jimmy silently pleaded with her to not bust him. He really couldn’t afford to get in trouble again. Salvation came in the sound of a voice, one of John’s teachers, calling him from down the hallway.
Sensing, through years of experience, the potential for some sort of scandal, John’s mother immediately sprang into action. “Go, Johnny,” she instructed him, “I’ll take care of your friend.” She indicated for him to follow the voice, to distract whoever was calling his name, and she quietly slipped into the room, closing and locking the door behind her, considering her options for this blonde, apparently stoned, half naked intruder in her son’s room.
Jimmy had sat up in bed, forgetting about his state of undress and letting the sheet fall to the side. She turned around and they looked at each other, both in a heightened state of vigilance due to their quandary.
“Hi,” he finally said, trying his best to sound cavalier, yet innocent.
She wasn’t sure what to make of him. She walked towards him, maintaining a demeanor of austerity but smiling in spite of herself. Still with her arms folded, she patiently sighed at him. She felt indignant at being in the presence of such flagrant indecency, but at the same time confused by the realization that she was glad she had sent Johnny away, glad that she alone would be taking care of this matter.
“Please don’t tell anyone I’m here,” he begged. “I’m already in trouble for skipping algebra, and it would make my parents look bad. I’m lucky to even be here and they don’t need this. Please . . . please . . . “
She looked at him thoughtfully, slowly realizing she recognized him. “You’re Jimmy, aren’t you?” The sound of her voice mesmerized him. It was the same tone he had heard her use for TV interviews, but now it was real, barely louder than a whisper but emanating such strength and self-assuredness that Jimmy at once felt comforted, felt himself dissolving into her complete control. “I saw you last week . . . in the play,” she continued. “Johnny couldn’t stop talking about it. He often talks about you.” She walked toward him again, her wide-set brown eyes monitoring the fear level in his blue ones. She sensed that she had to be careful with him. It was as if she were walking towards a stray cat, one that might either pounce if she got too close, or dash away to hide himself if she tried to pet him. “He admires you. He says he wants to be an actor like you.”
Jimmy was delighted to learn that she had been in the audience, and even more delighted to learn that John had talked about him in such an endearing way. He smiled, but felt too shy to say anything. The whole situation seemed surreal. He was amazed at her beauty. She was so much older than he was, and completely different from all the other moms. He had heard others call her a “good boarding school mom” a term which he had always considered an oxymoron, but now seeing her, he couldn’t help but be enamored. She didn’t seem like a mom at all. He tried to stealthily glance down at her, below her face, impressed with her slender elegance and style. So different from the other moms.
“He says you’re leaving school,” she said, a look of concern entering her face.
“Yeah,” Jimmy answered with a shrug, unsure of how to elaborate. “I’m going to New York to be an actor.”
“An actor,” she sighed again, smiling and shaking her head slightly.
Jimmy felt a tinge put-off by the comment, unsure of how to interpret it. Feeling a physical chill as well, he glanced down, slightly mortified to notice that he was still clad in only his underwear. But at the same time he felt an odd sense of excitement at the realization that she was seeing him that way too. Or had she even noticed? She seemed completely unaffected by his presence. Suddenly, he wanted her to notice. He wanted to be affecting her. He looked down at his body, feeling a heightened sense of self-awareness as he felt her eyes on him too.
Slowly, he stood up, stretching his body upright in front of hers, not reaching for his clothes, not trying to hide himself. He stood there, letting her see his bare thighs and flat stomach, and his arms and his firm young torso, and the sparse golden hair that lightly covered his whole body. With an arrogant stance he posed contrapposto for her, like a marble Roman sculpture, on display for her, waiting for her reaction, imagining that she desired him, imagining that she wanted him to strip completely, imagining her touching him and taking him across her knee and...
She appeared immune.
“That seems like a profession well suited for you,” she continued, now looking straight at him. His display of bravado was failing miserably. She seemed to find him more amusing than arousing. “You made quite an impression on everyone. Especially Johnny.”
“John is the one who should be an actor,” Jimmy finally began gushing, throwing out words as if they would somehow shield him from the embarrassment of his futile attempt at enticing her. “Don’t you think so? Do you even realize how good he is? How badly he wants to be an actor? You should see him. You know, I think that’s why he spaces off in class sometimes - he’s always dreaming about it. And why wouldn’t he want to? You know, he likes it so much more than politics or economics or any of that crap. And if you were him, wouldn’t you love the chance to be someone else...even if just for a minute-“
He stopped, remembering who he was talking to. He realized his words were probably too abrasive. She challenged him now, stepping close to him. She was fully aware of the nakedness of the young body in front of her, and had noticed what was beginning to happen between his legs, but she gave no hint, instead, she leaned in menacingly close to his face.
“No son of mine shall be an actor,” she stated deliberately. “He is not suited for it. He is destined for other things. He is going to be a great man, an important man like his father. He will not be an actor. He can’t do that. He can’t. Acting is for people like - “ She stopped. She knew she shouldn’t have said that and was instantly sorry. He was hurt and startled by her words. He leaned back slightly, flushing as if he had been slapped.
“For people like...what?” he asked, the hurt in his voice showing through.
It had thrown her. She was stumped, an eloquent explanation eluding her. How could she ever explain it all to him? She was overwhelmed by the thought of trying to explain all the reasons why she could never let Johnny do that: the expectations of her, of him, the pressure, the legacy, the experiences she had had with certain Hollywood types. All the reasons she had told herself existed, but how could she explain them to the naïve eyes that now implored her? Perhaps none of it was even true. Perhaps there was no reason at all.
“He...just...can’t.”
It wasn’t an answer and they both knew it. But the anger and humiliation Jimmy had felt a minute ago was short-lived. He looked at her, saw her eyes reddening. She suddenly looked resigned, accepting of a fate which wouldn’t be, couldn’t ever be, changed. A fate that wrapped itself around her family and her son, a fate that would not allow her son to do what she herself knew was his true passion. Jimmy saw now that she knew all of that. She knew all about John’s dreams. She knew what he really wanted. Why had she never told her son that she knew?
This sudden understanding clarified everything. He stared at her, taken aback at how the dynamic between them had shifted so suddenly. Her cool exterior had collapsed and he now had control of her and the conversation and it seemed that by continuing to stare her down, he would be able to make her tremble and give in to whatever desire he fancied. But he did none of those things. Instead he continued to read the story her eyes were telling, aware that his urge now was to hold and comfort her. To protect her. He wanted to let her know that he understood, that Johnny understood too and would eagerly do whatever she expected of him.
He stepped closer, close enough that she could feel his breath. He could tell that she was aware of the change too. She seemed fully aware of him now. She looked down at his mouth and then up to his eyes, lingering on his handsome nose and jaw and cheekbones, which were chiseled, yet so soft. What was this boy doing to her? Why wasn’t she stopping him? He was standing inappropriately close now and she could smell the faint residue of his aftershave and the sweat which had accumulated on his body while he was sleeping. He was looking at her lips, an undeniably sultry, yet soothing expression on his face. He parted his lips, his breath becoming heavy, and stared right at her, his eyelids lowered.
“He just can’t,” she repeated, whispering now, whispering to Jimmy as if he were the only person in the world willing or able to hear her whisper, tears forming at the rims of her eyes. “But you can. And you’re good. Do it for him. Please.” Her hand reached out to grab his arm, seizing it, wrapping her slender fingers around it. They both looked at her hand in astonishment, as if it was disembodied from the rest of her.
A sudden noise outside the door jarred them both back into their current predicament. She let go, and turned to open the closet, quickly grabbing little John’s argyle-patterned sweater, then motioned for Jimmy to hide behind the closet door. She opened the window and flicked on the fan, and swiftly kicked Jimmy’s clothing pile under the bed. She communicated one last “stay quiet” gesture to him before opening the door to greet her son, his teacher, and the pieces of her ever-present entourage.
They all lingered in the doorway, exchanging pleasantries, her charming, confident demeanor completely restored. She wasted no time in announcing then that she was taking Johnny to lunch and they had to go.
Through the crack of the closet door, Jimmy watched them all, separated from them. He watched them getting ready to leave for their luncheon, realizing suddenly how truly separated he was from all of them. The entourage filed out ahead of her, leaving her alone to turn off the lights. She looked back, straining to catch a final glimpse of Jimmy through the closet door. He bravely peered out as well, their eyes meeting. A look passed between them, a look that started in each other’s eyes, but then comfortably and warmly continued onto each other’s bodies and then back up again. They would have several more encounters in the future, but this one moment always lingered strongly in his thoughts, and when he recalled it, as he often would for years to come, it seemed to him that she had blushed just then, smiling at him with the mischievous innocence of a schoolgirl.
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