JUDD

9

JUDD (a chapter from my new book)

  The next the morning, Maya awoke crying for her mother. She has not cried for her for her mother since that time she spent in the in the hospital, almost dead from too many barbiturates. That time when she has done nothing but thinks of Eric, her lover and David her husband. She couldn’t stop crying for days, she ate nothing. She lost so much weight that she looked like a skeleton and was not able to go to work. All day she paced around the apartment, straightening thing which did not need to be moved from their usual place, taking the phone off the hook and putting it back on. She found Eric’s note crumpled by her bed, she read it once more, “I love you like galloping horses and singing nightingales.” He wrote. What nonsense she thought, and began to laugh, feeling insane. She tore the note into little pieces and flushed them down the toilet.

  She washed her face in cold water and looked at herself in the mirror. Her image looked back at her without humor. Black circles under her eyes. Hollow cheeks. She looked at her trembling hands. She remembered Elizabeth asking her if she would like to meet someone, but she could not remember the name. What a weird evening it was. She never told anyone about Don and Mira, God, she has not thought of Mira, her best friend in Tel-Aviv, for years. David, her husband, asked her many times to tell him why and how she came to the United States. But she teased him and said, “by plane.” David complained that she was very mysteries about it, and for a change, she did not argue with him. She could not tell him about Don, he would not have understood. He never found out about Eric. Poor, gigantic David. He called sometimes, after the divorce. Usually, the conversation would begin very nicely and friendly, (“after all we are civilized people,” he used to say) but end up with David questioning her again and again about that time in the hospital and her break down.

  “But Maya,” he would say, “What caused the break-down, what went wrong with you?” But mostly he wanted to know the reason, he was not permitted to visit her in the hospital. He felt that it was a conspiracy against him instigated by Tamar, her Israeli friend. He kept at it, it became sort of like an obsession with him. Maya could not tell him anything without mentioning Eric. She would become upset and end up telling him to leave her alone, and hang up the phone feeling terribly guilty and confused. He never mentioned the dead triplets. She was grateful for that. She could not forget his words as she lay in that hospital after that horrendous experience and heard David say: “aren’t we wonderful.” She never forgave him those words.

   

  “I am OK, she said when Elizabeth called at 10 am. “I am perfectly fine.

“You don’t sound perfectly fine to me,”Elizabeth told her.

  “I had a bad dream.”

  “Would you like to stay with me for a while?”

  “No, Eli, thank you, I like being alone.”

  “You are alone too much.”

  “I have to sort things out, stop fretting about me, Elizabeth.” There was a brief silence, then Elizabeth asked, “can I give Judd your telephone number?”

  “Yes, you can give him my number,” Danya said resignedly.

  “You sound very distant Danya.”

  “I am sorry I don’t mean to be short with you. I miss my mother.”

  “Why don’t you call her?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. I don’t want to upset her. I have to go now. I have to hang up.”

  “Maya!”

  “Yes, Eli.”

  “Never mind, I’ll call you tonight. Be nice to Judd when he calls.”

  “I thought I am always nice.”

  “No, you are not and you know it.”

  “It’ll be nice, Elizabeth,” she promised and hang up, before Elizabeth could say anything else.

  Maya spent the rest of the day at the art institute, looking at Picasso’s blue painting of the man with a guitar. She took the bus home. As she climbed the stairs to her apartment her heart began to beat rapidly – maybe there will another note from Eric. What will she do? Will she call him? But there wasn’t a note from Eric. She could not decide if she was disappointed or relieved. At 8 pm her phone rang. She jumped. She did not want to answer it. She sat there, her hands sweating and her mouth dry. The telephone continued to ring as if the caller knew that she was home. I ought to answer it, she thought and picked up the receiver reluctantly, “Hello,” she said in a small voice.

  “Hello?” A man’s voice asked, as though he was not sure that he heard her.

  “Yes?” she said.

  “Is this Maya?”

  “It is.” She waited.

  “Elizabeth gave me your number.” He said after a pause.

  “Oh, yes, you’re Judd, What an unusual name.”

  “You like it?”

  “Yes, I like it. I never knew anyone called Judd.”

  “Would you like to go to the theater tomorrow night?”

  “I would like it very much,” she said and realized that she meant it.

  He had a very nice voice. Low deep and very pleasant. She wondered what kind of face belonged to that voice. “What sort of a man?

  “I’ll pick you up tomorrow at seven, the show starts at seven thirty. Will that be OK?”

  “That will be fine,” she said and felt relieved that he did not ask her to go to dinner with him.

  “Until tomorrow then.” There was a smile in his voice.

  “Until tomorrow, Judd.” She liked to say the name.

  She went to her window and looked at the spider. She was still hovering over her dark webs, waiting, not moving. Danya smiled and said, “I am going on a blind date, what do you know.” She fancied that the spider moved slightly, but she was not sure. She looked up at her tree and said, “wish me luck, old friend.” She turned away from the window. The next evening she was getting ready to meet Judd. She did not want to look drawn and hollowed cheeked. She wanted to look good. She spent an hour putting on false eyelashes. It was not easy. Her hands still shook. Then she finished to make-up she surveyed herself in the mirror and smiled at herself thinking, David would have said that she looked like a painted woman. When the doorbell rang she went and waited at the top of the stairs. She could hear him coming up. When he saw her he stopped. “Wow!” he exclaimed, “you are beautiful!” Exactly Don’s words when she met him.

  “Thank you,” she smiled coyly. He was standing five stairs below her. He was a small man, dressed very conservatively. He wore an open trench coat, a grey suit, white shirt and a maroon tie. His hair was cropped very close to his head and was almost white. He was not handsome, but he was interesting looking. She came down the stairs and they shook hands. His handshake was firm, but his palm was moist. He smelled of liquor and cigarettes. He offered her his arm and she took it. He opened the door to his fancy blue Porch for her. Judd behaved in such a gentlemanly manner, it seemed to Maya almost affected. For a moment she thought of her first date with David. His beat-up car, the door fastened with a rope and a big hole in the floor.

  “You’re smiling, would you like to share it?” Judd asked.

  “You have a nice car.” She could not tell him about David.

  “So, you’re not sharing.” He commented, and as she did not answer, he said, “yes, isn’t she a beauty?” and he caressed the shining steering wheel fondly. Men, Danya was thinking amused, always in love with their cars.

  Judd sat very erectly in the driver’s seat. He drove too fast. It did not seem in character with his conservative appearance. The play was dull and very badly acted. Danya was fidgety and restless. “Would you like to leave?” Judd whispered in her ear.

  “Oh, yes.” She said thankfully.

  Outside he said, “I am sorry, it was a bad play, I should have found out more about it.”

  Her falls eye-lashes were bothering her. Her eyes began to tear, and she wanted to go home. “What would you like to do?” he asked.

  “Don’t be angry, but I would like to go home,” she said apologetically.

  “It’s early yet,” he said disappointedly. “Wouldn’t you like to have a drink?” The thought of a smoked filled bar did not appeal to her. “My eyes are killing me,” She told him.

  “What’s the matter with your eyes?” he sounded concern.

  “Oh,” she smiled at him. “I have glued on false eyelashes and it is irritating my eyes.” He burst out into a roaring laughter and circled her shoulders with his arm. She could smell the liquor on his breath. She wanted to draw away from him but did not move. She did not want to offend him. He was nice, attentive and gentlemanly. Quite refreshing after David, and very different from Eric. I could use a friend, she was thinking.

  “Come on, Mya, one drink won’t hurt. Why don’t you take those lashes off.” They were walking toward his car which was parked two blocks away. She tore off her eyelashes and felt better. Judd was watching her amused. “Feeling better?” he asked. “Women!” he shook his head baffled, “the things you do to yourselves.”

  “It took me an hour to put these on.” She told him and blinked her eyes at him. He laughed his hearty laugh, and squeezed her shoulders.“You are a strange one,” he said still laughing.

  “How is that?” she asked, feigning innocence.

  “Women don’t usually talk about their falls eye-lashes. Certainly not on their first date, if at all.”

  “Is that all right?” She asked, as though she was surprised.

  “You’re mocking me, Maya, but that is right.” He smiled at her fondly. “I am dying to have a drink. Here.” He maneuvered her into a dimly lit bar. They sat down and he ordered a martini.Maya ordered J and B on the rocks but did not touch it. Judd sipped his martini religiously. Maya watched him fascinated. 

  “You are staring at me,” he said.

  “I never saw anyone drink a martini with such intense concentration. Do you drink a lot?

  “Here you are again, right out with it. Do you always say whatever you think, the moment you think it?”

  “Often. I get into a lot of trouble for this tendency of mine.”  

  “Be careful.”

  “Of what?”

  “Besides not being very tactful it could be self defeating.”

  “Are you in therapy?” she asked him.

  “Yes.” He frowned at her curiously. “Why do you ask?”

  “People who use phrases like self-defeating usually see shrinks. Did I offend you?” He thought for a moment. “No,” he concluded, “I like you.”

  “Thank you,” She said but did not return the compliment.

  “Elizabeth mentioned that you are going through a rough time, want to talk about it?” He changed the subject.

  “No.”

  “Why not?” he lit a cigarette, inhaled deeply, then slowly let the smoke out of his lungs through his nostrils he reminded Maya of a steam engine. He smoked with the same intensity he drank his martini. She wondered if he does everything with such intensity.

  “What do you do Judd?” she asked him.

  “You mean work?” he asked, smiling at her knowingly.

  “What else?” she was getting tired of the game.

  “Oh, one does many things, you know.” The teasing did not go well with his appearance.

  “I am a graphic designer.” He told her.

  “Are you good at it?”

  “Very good. I am also good at other things.” He covered her hand with his. It felt like a damp cloth. But she did not take her hand away. He became very serious. He leaned over closer to her and whispered in a tight voice, “I would like to make love to you right now.” She thought of Eric using the exact same words.

  “I want to go home,” she said loudly and withdrew her hand. She stood up. Judd did not get up immediately, he looked up at her and asked, “will I see you again?”

  “Maybe.” She was not sure how she felt about him.

  “When?”

  “Call me.”

  “Tomorrow night for dinner?”

  “Call me.”

  “Are you being difficult?”

  “No, please, take me home.” She felt bones weary. He drove very fast and did not talk during the ride. She watched him and wondered what kind of a man he was. She could not tell much about him except that he drank a lot, smoked constantly, drove like a maniac and was in analysis. She liked him she concluded to herself.

  For a while, she saw a great deal of Judd. They tried very hard to have what Judd called “a meaningful relationship.” But there were few times throughout their relationship that she was became infuriated by his rigidity, his constant psychoanalytic talk, forever using phrases like “self-defeating, self-destructive, unresolved childhood conflicts, creative this creative that…” this terminology made her shout at him, “Stop talking this way. You remind me of a psychology book. Don’t you understand? These words mean nothing to me. They don’t carry any thoughts whatsoever. They are only borrowed words.”

  Judd talked, walked, ate and breathed psychoanalysis. Every move he made was as though he though he thought of it before. There was nothing spontaneous about Judd. He existed in a lifeless world where he was

locked together with his “unresolved childhood conflicts,” carrying the couch on his slightly bent shoulders.

  Judd made her physically important. She felt frozen, caged. She was suffocating within the walls of his apartment. In this apartment, they spent endless hours in long talks. Missing one another on each corner, hardly ever coming together, yet trying so laboriously to connect as though their life depended on one successful meeting.

  Smoking constantly, Judd sipped his two daily martinis as religiously as when she first met him, and the ritual continued with two glasses of wine, and then beer for the rest of the evening.

  Friday evening.

  Judd was sitting in his black leather chair. Very straight. His legs crossed. A martini in one hand, a cigarette in the other. A shut look on his aristocratic face. Maya asked him wonderingly, “What are you thinking about Judd?”

  Judd turned to her with half a smile and said for the innumerable time, “how dear you are. How beautiful you look. How magnificent the shape of your neck is. Our relationship is so meaningful, so important…”

  She had the feeling that he learned these answers by heart a long time ago.

  “Oh, Judd, can't you stop all these compliments?” she said very uncomfortably. Judd misinterpreting her discomfort for a flirting embarrassment, aroused by his own words, very deliberately put down his martini glass, he stamped his cigarette, uncrossed his legs, slowly lifted himself out of his black leather chair, and with exaggerated tenderness took her face in damp palms and commenced to kiss her with wet sweetness. She closed her eyes and smiled falsely at him.

  “Let’s go to bed,” Judd said. She did not want to go to bed with Judd. She could not make love with him. There was a complete lack of spontaneity. They created a false atmosphere. (every evening lit candles were burning in their Mexican colored glass holders).

  “Let’s screw, Judd!” she announced. “Come on, as we are, on the couch, without taking off our clothes. Screw Judd, like animals, do.”

  She mentioned the word screw and Judd was ready on fire. He stood erect in front of her, the tender smile gone, his face open, his eyes sparkling. 

  During these few minutes on the couch in his living room, he became alive. He forgot his deliberate sweetness (which for some reason he never forgot while making love in bed) his hands were strong and dry. At these moments he was desirable to her. But every time they “screwed”. Judd began an endless analytic lecture.

  “Why, Danya?” why do you prefer the screwing to the tender love making. You have not realized the magnificent woman you are capable of being. How creative and important you are. You cheat yourself and me out of sexual gratification. You sell yourself short. You deprive yourself of your femininity… think of your early conflicts with your father which are unresolved. It might help you to discover yourself sexually. If you resolve those conflicts you might not have to transfer them to me or any other man.”

  While Judd was going on analyzing her sexual shortcomings, she was thinking about John and her father. Was Judd right? Did she transfer her “unresolved” conflicts with her father (and there were many) to John? John was a sick man, so was her father. Her father lost his right hand in a work accident. Danya felt terrible about it. She was so sorry for her father and felt so guilty. She also felt terribly sorry for John. He was a maniac depressive. She loved her father and hated him simultaneously. She loved John and hated him simultaneously. Each man needed her in his particular way. She wanted to be with both men. “why don’t you come home where you belong Danya, my child.” Her father wrote innumerable times. He was to proud to outright confess his need for her. “Don’t leave me, Danya my love,” John pleaded with her, a desperate look in his eyes. So she left David not John, but John returned to his wife.

  Through her painful thoughts, she heard Judd’s voice like a whip, “You contribute nothing to our relationship. You are so uncreative and unimaginative in giving meaning to heterosexual relations while you live it all to me, and I do it all alone. Why Danya, you never even bothered to make me dinner once. You never want to stay here with me over night as any other normal woman would do.”

  Judd was right, John was the only man she let stay with her overnight. She could not bear the thought of waking up in the morning with Judd next to her.

  Judd was looking at her angrily. “what do you have to say for yourself, Danya?” he asked.

  “Oh, Judd,” she said just as angry, “what do you give of yourself? You sit shut in this apartment drinking martinis while the thought of sex is written over your entire face. Why should I want to stay the night with you? We spent enough time arguing.” She could see that Judd was extremely angry. His face became tighter and tighter. His cheeks were sucked in so the fine bones stood out. She looked at him expecting his face to disappear entirely so that only his long nose would be visible.

  How could she tell Judd that she was frozen with him? That she loved another man, that she was active emotionally, imaginative, and full of life. But when it came to him, all stopped. She worked hard with doctor R. and with herself trying to understand her relationship with Judd whom she cared for but was not able to love physically. His touch was dissipated by endless emotional analytic discussions it was more like a battle, which forever ended in a stalemate. It seemed that neither of them had the slightest chance of winning. Dr. R. pointed out to her that unless she resolves her relations with John and understands her obsession with him, she would not be able to sustain the healthy relationship with a man, be it Judd or anyone else.

  She finally realized that she was not able to be with Judd, as long as he lived his innermost human emotions on the “couch”. There was very little left but sex, and sex for her had to be a part of a circle, not an act by itself. In this respect, Judd was similar to David. He was unable to integrate his analytic work with his life, so it left him fragmented. David was not able to integrate his vast literary knowledge with life, so he remained “a walking encyclopedia” and alone.

  One lovely, warm July evening Danya was sitting with Judd on his patio. She was sipping a tall gin and tonic and Judd was working on his second martini. They were quiet. Judd seemed relaxed and at peace with himself and with Maya.

Danya was watching a monarch flittering and fluttering its marvelous colorations amongst the patio greens. She marveled at its beauty. She felt a tickle on her bare leg just below the knee. She extended her leg and looked. A tiny spider was crawling on the bare skin of her leg tickling her. She smiled and let it crawl on her finger. The big spider outside her windowsill was gone. She never saw the baby spiders coming to life. One day when she went to the window she was terribly disappointed to discover that the spider and the thick dark webs were gone, as though it never existed. “Hello,” she said softly to the tiny creature on her finger. It crawled onto her wrist. She kept her arm very still not to disturb it. Judd ran his fingers through her hair. She shivered involuntarily.

“You are so lovely tonight, Danya,” he said throatily, and his fingers were caressing the nape of her neck.

“Shhhh,” she said, not taking her eyes off the tiny creature crawling on the inside of her arm now.

“What are you doing?” Judd asked her curiously.

“Look,” she said and pointed at the minute creation on her arm. Judd laughed heartily and said, “I wish I was the spider on your arm, Maya. You really like these little things. Most people are frightened and disgusted by them, a specially of spiders and all crawling things.”

“Yes, I know,” she told him, not moving. “People are stupid, Judd. These are God’s creatures, they are wonderful. Where I grew up, we used to go to the fields lay on our stomachs and watch these little critters for hours. We let them crawl on our hands and legs. We grew up with them. Once I had a little field mouse in my room for a long time. I did not tell anyone. Then one day the little mouse was gone, and I was heartbroken.” Judd listened to her with a smile on his face, his hand was stroking her bare back sensually. The spider fell off her arm leaving a long silver thread behind it. She watched it disappear and sighed regretfully. 

She watched the fireflies dancing in radiant circles amongst the greens on the patio. It was a lovely sight and her heart was full of longings. She looked at Judd and wished that he was Eric.

“What is the matter, Maya?” Judd asked still stroking her back.

“Why?” she asked evasively.

“You seem so far away again. Come on, Danya, try to be here with me. I love you.”

“It’s a lovely evening,” she said, as though she did not hear him.

“Then why aren’t you happy?” His hand was damp on the nape of her neck. She shivered and moved restlessly.

“Don’t move away from me like this,” he said offended. He finished his martini in one gulp. He got up and went inside to fix himself another drink. But he did not come back out. Finally, reluctantly she went inside also. He was sitting in his black leather chair smoking and drinking. She could tell that he was angry by the way his jaw clenched. She sat on the couch, poured herself a glass of white wine from the bottle on the coffee table.

“Why don’t you ever share your feelings with me, Maya?” he asked her in a flat voice.

“Please, Judd, it’s such a beautiful night, let’s not argue, let’s go back on the patio and watch the fireflies,” she said placatingly.

“Why, Danya?” he persisted.

“Why what?” she could feel her anger rising.

“Why don’t you share your feelings and thoughts with me. You pay more attention to a dumb spider than to me. What’s the matter with you?” She did not want to argue. All she wanted was to sit outside and watch the fireflies. But he kept at it until finally in an explosion of anger she said, “why, Judd, you shouldn’t talk about sharing feelings. Your strongest emotions, are not share with me; therefore I am not able to share mine with you. You make me feel frigid, impotent. You are correct when you point out to me the fact that I give no meaning to our relationship, that I do not employ my imagination, that I am acting out. If you throw anger Judd, it is a result of extreme provocation from me. It would be inhuman not to react, but even then your anger and frustration are expressed in long analytic sessions. Words. Meaningless words, instead of direct potent anger.”She wished to stop her words, but she could not. An inner voice kept warning her saying,” stop it, you are going too far.” But she ignored the inner warning and said, “look, Judd, you see this glass in my hand? What will you do if I empty the wine right in your face?

“Stop it. Now!” Her inner voice commanded.

“I’ll rape you,” He answered with a glint in his eyes, the muscles tightened in his cheeks.

So it is an open battle, she thought and felt a bizarre excitement in spite of herself.

“You are incapable of doing such a thing,” she teased him cruelly and laughed spitefully.

“Try me, Danya.” His voice carried a controlled threat.

All I want is to watch the fireflies glitter in the dark, she thought and threw the wine in his face. He did not move to wipe himself. For few moments they stood there glaring at each other, then he began advancing toward her. His lips were twisted in the sort of a nasty side smile she has never before seen. She backed away from him. She was not frightened, but she no longer cared for the game. The weird excitement she experienced was gone. He had her by the shoulders forcing her down on the floor until he had her flat on her back, her hands pinned. He was crouching on his knees animal like above her. She could not read his face. She hated him awfully at that moment. Maybe he saw the hate in her face. He let go of her hands stood up and said, “don’t be afraid, Maya, I won’t hurt you.” He turned away from her. She lay there on her back on the carpet and shrieked at him, “afraid of you! You must be mad! You have no courage. Go discharge your load on the couch!” he turned to look at her. “How scared you areMaya, you should see the fear in your eyes.”

“Fear? You blind idiot, it is hate, I hate you, Judd! I hate you! I hate…” He was rocking her like a baby in his arms there on the floor while she kept crying “I hate you.” Only she was not sure who it was she hated. Was it Judd or was it herself she hated so much at that moment?

The fight was gone out of them.

“Maya, honey, it can’t be all that bad,” Judd said, still holding her.

“Oh, yes, it is all that bad,” she said between sobs.

“What is it, honey, I am your friend, I love you.” But she could only shake her head. She could not tell him.

“Stay the night with me, Danya, please,” he said as though he sensed that it will be their last night together.

They were quiet. Very quiet.

Finally, she looked into his eyes. He looked at her so tenderly.

“I’ll stay the night, but promise me.”

“Anything.”

“Not to talk.”

“I promise.”

That was the only night she spent with Judd. He was completely true to his promise. For an entire night, he forgot his analysis, his “creative artistic work.” He was sure, dependable, communicative through silence. The “couch” was gone. She enjoyed making love with him silently. He was strong, vibrant. He saw her through the night with amazing understanding and sensitivity. That night she saw a Judd she could love and share with. But it was not to be. She had to resolve her relationship with Eric. He was her obsession. She lay there awake while Judd slept. At dawn, she got up and very quietly closed the bedroom door behind her. If Judd knew he did not betray it. He did not move. 

In the leaving room, she put her clothes on. She left a note for Judd. “It was a beautiful night. I am going to try and resolve my conflicts. It will take time.

Good-by.

 

   

   

  

   

1