with. Someone to talk to about all sorts of personal things without the sexual issue always clouding the atmosphere.”
“Yes, that certainly can get in the way of rational conversation.”
She decided her best response to that was just a smile.
“With a brother,” she said, “you’d have a lot in common. Shared experiences. Like family vacations and favorite Christmas mornings. You could talk about your parents and your siblings’ quirks, and someone would understood why you ranted and raved about them. You’d speak the same language, have a common bond. All that togetherness and all those mutual experiences should add up to something of value.”
Kevin stopped walking and turned to face her. “Togetherness doesn’t necessarily add up to anything of value, not even with brothers. Maybe even especially with brothers.”
Gina stopped too. She was taken aback at his candidness. She didn’t know how to respond. What did he mean? Intuitively she determined it was wise not to ask. She kept talking as they resumed their stroll.
“A brother would understand why you were you. Especially, it seems to me, a brother would be more interesting to talk to than a sister, because guys look at things differently than girls.”
“And thank God for that,” said Kevin. “But there’s not much you can do about getting a brother at this late date.”
“No.”
“So what else have you always wanted that you don’t have?”
“I encourage myself a lot that everything will be better someday, after I pass the bar.”
“Such as?”
“Someday,” said Gina, “when I’m a pin-striped-suit attorney with a fat paycheck, I’m going to a buy a car with room enough in the back for anything. My two-door Austin is too small for people and stuff. I thought when I bought it that I needed only a small car because it was just me. Wrong. I need bigger.”
“And how big is that?”
“Mack truck big!”
Kevin looked down at her and smiled.
“A car that doesn’t break down constantly,” she continued. “And if it does break down, I’ll have enough money to pay the tow truck driver and the mechanic. And a big house too. One that doesn’t have a floor plan like a swastika. Nice draperies on all the windows, a spacious laundry off the kitchen, and a telephone in every room so I don’t have to get out of bed in the cold of night to walk to another room every time someone calls.”
“Is that the main reason you want to go to law school? A better life?”
“That’s a big part of it. Right now I have to put up with a lot to make ends meet. I get sick of it. Working way past tired just to earn another dollar. Being endlessly polite to creeps, courzen food. of the deep freezer, no, make that two deep freezers, humming away in a waiting on old men who call me honeypot and sweetie and make me disgusting offers to earn a little ‘extra’ on the weekends. It gets old.”
“I’m sure it does. Some things about Navy life get old too.”
“Tell me.”
“Months at sea. Missing your family. Working weekends sometimes. Doing a watch at four in the morning. Mostly it’s the loneliness,” said Kevin.
“But doesn’t all that travel and adventure make up for it?”
“The loneliest place in the world can be a busy downtown street in a crowded foreign city. You’re surrounded by thousands but you don’t speak the language, you don’t know a soul, and you’re far from home and everything that’s familiar. It’s amazing how alone you can feel when there’s a wall of people on every side.”
“I’ve never thought of it that way,” said Gina as she kicked at the gritty sand with her toes.
“It was like that in Tokyo. Olongapo too. At times it can be overwhelming. It takes a little excitement out of travel.”
“Olongapo?”
“That’s in the Philippines. It’s a city near Subic Bay, on Luzon. The Navy has a big base there.”
“You visited Tokyo?” said Gina.
“The Shasta pulled into Yokosuka but I wanted to
“Yes, that certainly can get in the way of rational conversation.”
She decided her best response to that was just a smile.
“With a brother,” she said, “you’d have a lot in common. Shared experiences. Like family vacations and favorite Christmas mornings. You could talk about your parents and your siblings’ quirks, and someone would understood why you ranted and raved about them. You’d speak the same language, have a common bond. All that togetherness and all those mutual experiences should add up to something of value.”
Kevin stopped walking and turned to face her. “Togetherness doesn’t necessarily add up to anything of value, not even with brothers. Maybe even especially with brothers.”
Gina stopped too. She was taken aback at his candidness. She didn’t know how to respond. What did he mean? Intuitively she determined it was wise not to ask. She kept talking as they resumed their stroll.
“A brother would understand why you were you. Especially, it seems to me, a brother would be more interesting to talk to than a sister, because guys look at things differently than girls.”
“And thank God for that,” said Kevin. “But there’s not much you can do about getting a brother at this late date.”
“No.”
“So what else have you always wanted that you don’t have?”
“I encourage myself a lot that everything will be better someday, after I pass the bar.”
“Such as?”
“Someday,” said Gina, “when I’m a pin-striped-suit attorney with a fat paycheck, I’m going to a buy a car with room enough in the back for anything. My two-door Austin is too small for people and stuff. I thought when I bought it that I needed only a small car because it was just me. Wrong. I need bigger.”
“And how big is that?”
“Mack truck big!”
Kevin looked down at her and smiled.
“A car that doesn’t break down constantly,” she continued. “And if it does break down, I’ll have enough money to pay the tow truck driver and the mechanic. And a big house too. One that doesn’t have a floor plan like a swastika. Nice draperies on all the windows, a spacious laundry off the kitchen, and a telephone in every room so I don’t have to get out of bed in the cold of night to walk to another room every time someone calls.”
“Is that the main reason you want to go to law school? A better life?”
“That’s a big part of it. Right now I have to put up with a lot to make ends meet. I get sick of it. Working way past tired just to earn another dollar. Being endlessly polite to creeps, courzen food. of the deep freezer, no, make that two deep freezers, humming away in a waiting on old men who call me honeypot and sweetie and make me disgusting offers to earn a little ‘extra’ on the weekends. It gets old.”
“I’m sure it does. Some things about Navy life get old too.”
“Tell me.”
“Months at sea. Missing your family. Working weekends sometimes. Doing a watch at four in the morning. Mostly it’s the loneliness,” said Kevin.
“But doesn’t all that travel and adventure make up for it?”
“The loneliest place in the world can be a busy downtown street in a crowded foreign city. You’re surrounded by thousands but you don’t speak the language, you don’t know a soul, and you’re far from home and everything that’s familiar. It’s amazing how alone you can feel when there’s a wall of people on every side.”
“I’ve never thought of it that way,” said Gina as she kicked at the gritty sand with her toes.
“It was like that in Tokyo. Olongapo too. At times it can be overwhelming. It takes a little excitement out of travel.”
“Olongapo?”
“That’s in the Philippines. It’s a city near Subic Bay, on Luzon. The Navy has a big base there.”
“You visited Tokyo?” said Gina.
“The Shasta pulled into Yokosuka but I wanted to
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