* * *
Marie had had her coming-out ball the year before. She was introduced to all the eligible men, or boys as she had thought of them, in her neighborhood as potential suitors. She had known them all before of course. But they hadn’t been presented to her in just this way. She was expected to begin a courtship with one of them. And then after a certain amount of time, she would elect to have him as her spouse. She would start a whole new life with him. But she did not want to start a new life with anybody. She was content the way she was.
But nobody, including herself, could imagine a future in which a young girl didn’t marry. And if she didn’t act as though it was something she was looking forward to, she would be socially shamed. But she wasn’t indifferent to men. Marie went to dances regularly. She looked at the ear of a young man standing next to her at a ball and wanted to lean over and bite it. The idea that she might be allowed to lean over and bite his ear filled her up with warmth. She didn’t know if it was attraction. It didn’t seem to be love. All she knew was she had a desire to say that ear belonged not to the man whose head it was on, but to her.
A few months before, at the Spring Dance, she found herself enjoying one of the young men in the neighborhood’s company more than others. He was short and had spectacles and curly hair. He made his curly hair stand up straight over his head in order to gain four inches. None of the other suitors worried about him. They couldn’t imagine he was a threat until they heard the way Marie laughed at his jokes.
It was completely inappropriate. A woman was not supposed to laugh hysterically, especially when she was at a social gathering. There was something about it that was so overtly sexual. It made her chest move up and down and her forehead sweat. But Marie had never spent time with members of the opposite sex. She could never have had any idea of how delightfully idiotic men could be. And she was completely unprepared for the lovely elixir of physical attraction and bad jokes.
“Did you know the surface of the moon is reflective?” Marie said. “That’s why it glows.”
“You don’t have to look for a mirror to brush your teeth,” the young man answered. “You just look down at the ground beneath your feet.”
“Do you think there’s any point in traveling to the moon?” Marie asked.
“It’s better to say you’ve gone than to actually go,” he answered.
“When you travel all the way to the moon, you would certainly work up an appetite. You would need a spot of something to eat and some tea.”
“I would certainly pack some cucumber sandwiches to eat on the way.”
“The moon is farther than you imagine. You’ll be in that balloon longer than you think.”
“Right. Right. So bring a whole ham.”
* * *
Philip Arnett walked into the room while Marie was laughing. The hope of the Arnett family was now on Philip, who had also entered politics. Not having to compare himself to his younger sister had done wonders for his personality. There was really only room for one sibling to shine in every family. And that role was for the eldest brother. Every family is a cruel, intransigent monarchy.
Philip had grown up to be handsome. He knew what to do with his face now. He knew how to look at people in a way that made them feel slightly insecure. The Arnetts all had faces that gave them the impression of being intelligent. This impression allowed them to move ahead in politics. Although Philip wasn’t especially smart, his lack of intelligence made him bitter, and that bitterness could come across as a superior sort of cleverness.
Philip had a chip on his shoulder the way the rest of the family did about their middle-class roots. He didn’t believe he felt inferior because he was inferior. He thought he was inferior because others made him feel that way. He took his feelings of inferiority as an act of aggression against him. The Arnetts believed that if you wanted something badly enough, it should be yours. Like the rest of his family, Philip was covetous of status.
Philip was quite popular with young women. He seemed to look at others with a hint of disdain, and they found that intriguing. He was careful of every association he made, considering how it would affect his political career. When he saw Marie, his family’s old obsession with her swelled up in his heart. He remembered Marie from when she was twelve years old. He remembered how excited the family had been by her presence. That infuriated him. He remembered seeing her from his window. She had piles of blond hair. The sun was shining on her head, setting her head on fire.
It was at that moment, when he saw Marie again still looking radiant, his heart swelling with an old contempt, that he decided he wanted to marry her.
He did not speak to her that night. He was irritated that she was speaking to another man.
* * *
Marie was at an outdoor tea party when Philip did approach her. There was a group of daffodils around Marie’s chair. They were wearing baby bonnets to protect themselves from the sun. He handed her a love letter he had carefully composed. He leaned his arm over the table and, while doing so, upset the teapot, spilling the contents all over the table. Marie shrieked, as she was wearing a white dress. She took the paper from Philip’s hands, thanking him profusely, and used it quickly to wipe up all the tea.
At the next social gathering, Philip asked Marie if he might sit with her. Marie told him a dream she had where she accidentally cut off her friend’s finger with a cake knife. She had no idea what to do with it. She didn’t want her friend to feel upset about her missing finger. So Marie stuck the finger in her pocket. But then she felt the finger slowly begin to wiggle in her pocket. Philip did not say anything. He did not know what to say to this foolish girl. He walked away upset.
* * *