Page 37 - WTP Vol. IX #5

yes, you are hungry, because you wouldn’t eat what it was necessary to eat, but we must be off to get to our boat on time.” He checked his watch and effi- ciently, calculated precisely how little time they had to reach the pier.
He had called a cab as soon as they had arrived at the restaurant to pick them up at four o’clock, so they could be at the pier by 4:30. The cab was prompt, and as they took a hurried drive along the lakeside, Vivian drank in the precious moments before they would reach the pier. She savored the sweep of water, earth and sky, glimmering in the sunlight.
“His behavior made Vivian recall that
in the poem, the youngest brother stopped eating before he died.”
II
At the pier, a line had already formed for their return trip. Vivian noticed that the group was waiting in
a long double line between wooden trestles set up narrowly to keep individuals standing as an orderly group. There was noisy chatter.
In the tour group were people from different coun- tries. There were elderly people, smiling, relaxed from vacation time in the leisurely-paced tourist village. Some of the younger people were singing to pass the time.
Vivian lined up with the others and with the family. The mother and father chatted about their son’s friskiness and reined him in whenever he tried to jump off the line. He was eager to explore the edge of the lake standing at one point leaning over it, staring over the broad expanse to see all he could, free of his fixed place on the line.
Barbara was deeply interested in Vivian’s reference to other trips she had taken, as the psychiatrist en- gaged in conversation with others on line. But even as she was speaking, her husband reached out to her, smoothing her hair, caressing her arm, insisting on her sole identity as his partner. Only if he took her with him on future trips would she be able to satisfy
some of her curiosity.
Vivian thought about the freedom she had taken for herself, how she had continued her heritage of escape from tyranny. Choosing psychiatry, she had struggled to excel in a profession, rather than limit herself to the roles of wife and mother which her parents would have preferred for her. Her parents had escaped from outward tyranny, and she had done battle with the inward tyranny of the mind, finally choosing her wants over those of her parents. She knew personally the difficulties of minds wrestling to free themselves of pressures that limit freedom.
After about twenty minutes on line, Vivian felt un- easy. The boat should have arrived. Vivian got off the line and walked to some agents standing at the edge of the pier. They were chatting together, oblivious to the fact that Vivian was calling.
“Miss, Miss,” Vivian repeated, but they continued their conversation.
Vivian spotted the guide who had shepherded the group to Broselle, but the guide, the picture of ef- ficiency in her tweed suit, kept reviewing a list of names before her on her clipboard. She seemed to refuse to look up even once.
Utterly frustrated, Vivian walked away. She sat down at the edge of the pier to think about what was happening. Something seemed wrong, or else there would not have been such indifference to her claim for attention. She didn’t think that her desire for in- formation should be met with such total avoidance.
The sun felt strong on her face as she sat at the wa-
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