watch, a more poignant token since it had been given to Max by his own father when he’d received his M.D. It hadnow become a symbolic way of passing the torch. Adam held the cold metal to his cheek.
His phone rang. It was Toni.
“It was on the eleven o’clock news,” she explained. “Are you okay?”
“Not really,” he replied bitterly. “I should have been driving.”
There was a silence. Toni did not know what to say. Finally she asked: “When’s the funeral?”
“Tuesday morning. There’s not going to be any ceremony—he specified no eulogy.”
“That seems wrong,” Toni objected, “there should at least be words—expressions of affection. Lisl may not realize how much she needs it too. You can’t just walk away without saying
anything.
Would it be all right if I came?”
“But you didn’t even know him.”
“Funerals are for the living, not the dead.”
“I realize that. But I have to look after Lisl.”
“I know,” she answered gently. “But somebody has to take care of you.”
There was a momentary pause.
“Thanks, Toni,” he whispered. “I’d appreciate that.”
There were two dozen or so gathered around Max Rudolph’s freshly dug grave: the dean, colleagues, their wives, his lab teams and students. And standing discreetly among them was Antonia Nielson from Washington.
The undertakers, experienced with “silent” funerals, had prepared cut flowers for the mourners to drop onto the lowered coffin as they passed by to pay their last respects.
Finally, only Adam and Lisl were left. And as he held his flower, unable to let go, words emerged from his throat unbidden.
It was the lines from Hamlet, which suddenly seemed so appropriate.
He was a man, take him for all-in-all,
I shall not look upon his like again.
Then, unwillingly, he let fall his flower.
And Lisl did the same.
7
SANDY
Curiously enough, Sandy Raven did not look back on his formative years with any anger. For he was only marginally aware of his parents’ mutual hostility and he always recalled childhood as a time of purest love. Not anyone’s for him, but his own secret passion for his classmate, Rochelle Taubman. He burned for her with a flame intense enough to vaporize diamonds.
Moreover, this was long before Rochelle became the radiant goddess who graced the covers of
Vogue
,
Harper’s Bazaar
, and
Silver Screen.
In those days, she was simply the belle of RS. 161.
After all, she was slender and strikingly beautiful, with high cheekbones, shiny auburn hair, and deliquescent eyes, while he was pudgy and bespectacled, with a complexion reminiscent of oatmeal.
She barely knew he existed, except when finals approached and she cajoled him into helping her prepare for their math and science exams. He did not feel the slightest bit exploited.
The mere fact that she sweetened each tutorial session with phrases like, “You’re wonderful, Sandy,” or “I’ll love you forever,” was recompense enough. And yetwhen the testing period ended, amnesia of the heart stepped in and she ignored him until the next semester’s finals.
And in the interim Sandy would merely pine.
His father tried to cheer him up. “Don’t take it to heart, sonny boy. Remember that even if she prefers the football captain, someday his jock will fade. And suddenly you’ll find yourself alone with her on either side of Yankee Stadium with millions cheering as you walk toward each other in slow motion and embrace.”
“God, Dad,” Sandy exclaimed in wonderment, “where’d you get an image like that?”
Sidney beamed. “The movies, of course.”
School was not yet over and Sandy still had time to boast of his father’s new eminence in Hollywood. And he made absolutely certain to mention to Rochelle that his dad was now a junior executive at Twentieth Century-Fox.
Once again she remembered Sandy’s existence, rushed to him and declared, “I don’t know how I’ll bear being without you. I mean, you’ll be at Science
His phone rang. It was Toni.
“It was on the eleven o’clock news,” she explained. “Are you okay?”
“Not really,” he replied bitterly. “I should have been driving.”
There was a silence. Toni did not know what to say. Finally she asked: “When’s the funeral?”
“Tuesday morning. There’s not going to be any ceremony—he specified no eulogy.”
“That seems wrong,” Toni objected, “there should at least be words—expressions of affection. Lisl may not realize how much she needs it too. You can’t just walk away without saying
anything.
Would it be all right if I came?”
“But you didn’t even know him.”
“Funerals are for the living, not the dead.”
“I realize that. But I have to look after Lisl.”
“I know,” she answered gently. “But somebody has to take care of you.”
There was a momentary pause.
“Thanks, Toni,” he whispered. “I’d appreciate that.”
There were two dozen or so gathered around Max Rudolph’s freshly dug grave: the dean, colleagues, their wives, his lab teams and students. And standing discreetly among them was Antonia Nielson from Washington.
The undertakers, experienced with “silent” funerals, had prepared cut flowers for the mourners to drop onto the lowered coffin as they passed by to pay their last respects.
Finally, only Adam and Lisl were left. And as he held his flower, unable to let go, words emerged from his throat unbidden.
It was the lines from Hamlet, which suddenly seemed so appropriate.
He was a man, take him for all-in-all,
I shall not look upon his like again.
Then, unwillingly, he let fall his flower.
And Lisl did the same.
7
SANDY
Curiously enough, Sandy Raven did not look back on his formative years with any anger. For he was only marginally aware of his parents’ mutual hostility and he always recalled childhood as a time of purest love. Not anyone’s for him, but his own secret passion for his classmate, Rochelle Taubman. He burned for her with a flame intense enough to vaporize diamonds.
Moreover, this was long before Rochelle became the radiant goddess who graced the covers of
Vogue
,
Harper’s Bazaar
, and
Silver Screen.
In those days, she was simply the belle of RS. 161.
After all, she was slender and strikingly beautiful, with high cheekbones, shiny auburn hair, and deliquescent eyes, while he was pudgy and bespectacled, with a complexion reminiscent of oatmeal.
She barely knew he existed, except when finals approached and she cajoled him into helping her prepare for their math and science exams. He did not feel the slightest bit exploited.
The mere fact that she sweetened each tutorial session with phrases like, “You’re wonderful, Sandy,” or “I’ll love you forever,” was recompense enough. And yetwhen the testing period ended, amnesia of the heart stepped in and she ignored him until the next semester’s finals.
And in the interim Sandy would merely pine.
His father tried to cheer him up. “Don’t take it to heart, sonny boy. Remember that even if she prefers the football captain, someday his jock will fade. And suddenly you’ll find yourself alone with her on either side of Yankee Stadium with millions cheering as you walk toward each other in slow motion and embrace.”
“God, Dad,” Sandy exclaimed in wonderment, “where’d you get an image like that?”
Sidney beamed. “The movies, of course.”
School was not yet over and Sandy still had time to boast of his father’s new eminence in Hollywood. And he made absolutely certain to mention to Rochelle that his dad was now a junior executive at Twentieth Century-Fox.
Once again she remembered Sandy’s existence, rushed to him and declared, “I don’t know how I’ll bear being without you. I mean, you’ll be at Science
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