Under the influence of a greater force none of them can explain, the six residents of the Meadows are prone to mass hysteria from time to time.
Still, they solemnly deny having anything to do with the two missing Yale students.
Nate is the captain...
"One thing I know, that I know nothing. This is the source of my wisdom." —SOCRATES
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I'D done a lot of rich things in my life. Ridiculous things that bordered on outrageous. Accusing Stephanie of having an affair with Edmund was one of them. This is, of course, taking into account that I was the one spending a Friday night at his home.
She would have every right to tease me relentlessly over this. Arguably, my little visit looked worse than her staying behind in his office to discuss Greek Mythology. But there was a perfectly reasonable explanation as to why I had abandoned every other plan that Friday night and had instead traveled the twenty-seven minutes it took me to get to Edmund's place, and that is that he was out of his mind and I loved him more than I loved my father.
His house was a reflection of him. You saw him everywhere. You felt him everywhere. This place was his and the reminder never abandoned you once. The chaos was considerably more unrestrained than the one he kept in his office which in turn made it feel more personal, like everything had a little more meaning and a lot more depth.
It had low ceilings, brick walls, and creaking floorboards. It was dimly lit with the aid of old chandeliers and oddly placed lamps, and cramped with books and candles and cups and crooked paintings. I was sitting on the small circular table next to the fireplace, drinking whiskey and feeling my face get hot due to my proximity to the flames. He was trying to translate some Greek writing but every time I asked what it was about I always got some halfhearted response.
I had come here earlier in the evening because I needed to escape. The phone at the Meadows had been ringing too much. I was running away from the voice at the other end. I didn't want to guess, even less know what there was to be said considering the call was coming from my father's office. I knew a party would not help my agitation, and I already felt too grossed out by myself to engage in casual sex. There was only one place for me to be.
I had escaped with some pitiful excuse that no one cared to question. Stopped by a convenience store to buy a bottle of whiskey that I began to drink straight from the bottle as soon I jumped back inside the car, and by a cheap pizza place about two blocks away from the convenience store. Then I began the twenty-seven-minute drive.
"Can I ask you something?" I uttered seemingly out of nowhere, disrupting a thick and serene silence. My eyes were still on the fire and my right hand was gripping the bottle. "But you have to promise me you'll actually respond instead of going on a twenty-minute rant to divert us from the topic."
