Lost and Wanted(84)

“Have you guys heard of polar bear clubs?” Charlie turned to me. “My aunt’s in a women’s one. They run down here in the winter and get in—all these ladies in bathing caps. Then they go to someone’s house and eat pancakes.”

“I forgot my bathing cap,” Neel said.

“I think we should go for it,” Charlie said.

“The water’s probably warmer than the air,” Neel speculated. “But what about afterward?”

“It’s just to the car,” Charlie said. “I’d love to hear what those people in the parking lot say, when they see three naked butts in their headlights.”

“Are you kidding?” I asked.

“I’m game,” Neel said.

Charlie laughed. “Come on. I polar bear dare you.”

If not for Charlie, we never would have done it. In retrospect I think we were lucky neither of us suffered hypothermia. I say neither of us, because I made a point of not looking as we undressed, and then as we started to run, the headlights switched off. Whether Charlie was right, and some old couple was horrified, or the car just left at that moment by coincidence was unclear, but because it was so dark, I believed it was the three of us running screaming to the water. The water was so cold that for a moment there was nothing but a burning sensation. I made it only to my waist before turning around, but Neel dunked his head, made a great bellowing sound, and was ahead of me as we ran back dripping toward the parking lot. I saw his body then, thin and light gray in the dark, and—I don’t think this is fabricated—made myself remember exactly how I felt, preserving it, in case I never was that happy again.

Charlie was already sitting in the driver’s seat, fully clothed. She had started the engine and managed to get the heat blowing. She was blasting Prince’s “Thieves in the Temple,” our new favorite.

    I tried to talk, but I couldn’t make my mouth move.

“Traitor,” Neel said.

“Are you kidding?” Charlie said. “Who was going to get your clothes?” She passed each of us a bundle.

I struggled into my sweater and jeans, then turned around and looked at Neel. His hair was wet and there were actual, tiny ice crystals in it. He’d gotten his cords and T-shirt on, and was pulling a sweater over his head.

“Who stayed in longer?” he asked Charlie, pulling his sweater over his head.

“I did,” I answered for her. “You couldn’t take it.”

“You didn’t even dunk,” Neel said, reaching out to touch my hair.





15.


After dinner we sat in the living room and finished the whiskey. Charlie was on the couch, and Neel and I sat in the worn armchairs closest to the fire.

“This is a great place,” he said, looking admiringly around Aunt Penny’s living room. He wasn’t the type of young person who disparaged his elders’ taste; I thought he was likely to prefer the family of china ducks on the brick mantelpiece, the multicolored braided rag rug, to anything sleeker or more refined. I could see his appreciation for Charlie deepening, too, because this was a place she clearly loved.

“Thanks,” Charlie said. “Whatever’s going on, it’s always a good place to escape.”

“We could use a place like that in my family,” Neel said.

Charlie looked at Neel curiously. “What’s the deal with your sister?” she asked. “Who’s she dating that your parents don’t like?”

“A doctor,” Neel said. “Super nice guy.”

“So?” Charlie said.

“He’s Jamaican,” Neel said.

    “Indian Jamaican?” Charlie said. “Are there Indians in Jamaica?”

“There are Indians everywhere. But he’s a black guy.”

Neel didn’t talk a mile a minute to cover up the fact that he’d just referred to someone’s color, nor did he rush to clarify that he didn’t feel as his parents did.

“I once saw a movie where this Indian guy in New York had to go back to India to choose a bride,” Charlie said.

“I’ll get my ticket as a graduation present,” Neel deadpanned.

“Your parents don’t care who you marry?”

“It’s not that they don’t care.” Neel had stood up and was stoking the coals; now he replaced the iron poker and turned to face us. “They’d like her to be Indian. But they’re not hoping to arrange it or anything—they’re pretty assimilated.”

Charlie held up her hands. “Just wondering.”

“What about you?” Neel said. “What do your parents have in mind?”

“An extremely successful black guy,” Charlie said. “Failing that, an extremely successful white guy will be okay.”

Neel laughed. “I think our parents are on a similar trip, just with slightly different parameters.”

“Kids?” Charlie said. In a group she often liked to throw out a topic and then listen to everyone respond. She already understood back then how much people like to talk about themselves.

“No, thanks,” Neel said.

“Helen? Are you still in the ‘no’ column on munchkins?”

“I didn’t say that.”