Tangential Arousal

Chapter 1

Claude stares at me for what seems like centuries. His eyes are red and raw looking, as if he'd been crying so much that it was impossible to look his normal state. However, I notice, that he does not look depressed. He does not look as troubled as a man should when his wife leaves him. He does not look desperate or broken. He only looks anxious and stressed; whatever the reason why, I do not know. I only know that I am his friend, and he has agreed to go to lunch with me.
We are dining at a restaurant that Claude calls "The Citadel." I have never heard of it, but the delicious fragrances that fill the room assure me that there is no need to worry about the food. Our table is sitting near a long window, and I can feel the September chill peeking inside. In the streets below us, I can hear the sounds of people yelling and automobiles honking at pedestrians. The traffic is never pleasant in New York.

For the last twenty minutes, we have said nothing. I finally break the silence. "How are you, Claude?"

Claude clears his throat and straightens his jacket, then says, "Have you heard?"

"Heard what?" I lie. I don't want him to know that they already told me. I don't want him to know what people think of him.

He sighs irritably. "You know what I'm talking about, Oscar. It's even in the damn papers."

I give in, and nod awkwardly. "Yes. Myrtle told me."

"So you know the rumors, as well?"

I pause, then nod again.

"What do you think of it, Oscar?" He sits back and starts biting his nails. It isn't a very proper thing to do in a place like this, either, but I know he doesn't care. He needs to vent to something in the moment, if not me. "What do you think of me?"

I don't exactly know how to reply. What is he asking? Is he worried that I believe the rumors? Is he worried that I think he's having an affair? No, I don't believe them. Rumors are rumors, and the truth is simply the base of it all that no one really perceives. "I don't believe the rumors, if that's whatcha mean."

"Do you think I'm cheating on my wife?" He says this next sentence rather quickly, as if he'd been waiting for this moment to come out frankly and ask me what I thought.

"No, no, of course not. Why would you?"

The look in his eyes start to convince me otherwise, and I want to know what he's thinking. What goes on in that head of his? What are his secrets, the private thoughts that he hides in the pitch black corners of his mind, where no one can see? I want to know, but I won't ask. His private thoughts are his own to claim, and only he decides what to do with them.

Before he can say anything else, the waiter walks up and serves us our food. We both mutter our thank you's, and he leaves us to a tense silence.

I stare at my lobster salad. My stomach is grumbling, but for some odd reason, I have no desire to eat anymore. Claude is eating his oyster stew quickly, as if to avoid speaking. Every time he swallows one spoonful, he immediately takes another. I decide to do the same, and let the sounds of the room fill the silence between us.

........................................................................

The silence doesn't last long.

"We're getting a divorce," Claude says, pushing his plate away from him. He starts to bite his nails again.

"So soon? H-Haven't you two talked about it?"

He shakes his head. " She told me that we're getting a divorce, packed her things, and took Elizabeth with her."

"Wait, she took Elizabeth? That's not right. Why don't you speak with her? Ask her to come back. I'm sure-"