Lab Rats
Elly sat down on the edge of the bed. “It still creaks.”
“It creaked a lot more before.”
“Before I didn’t associate creaking with breaking.”
Connor flopped down beside her, bouncing on the mattress. “Those sleeves have a tensile strength of umpteen zillion pounds per square inch. You could park a car on this bed. Anyway, you grew up in Japan. I’d think you’d get used to things shifting a bit under your feet.”
“When we were living in that old house in Hiratsuka, the slightest tremor would shake it like a stack of old kindling. I think it made me oversensitized.”
“Have you been back to Hiratsuka since then?”
She shook her head. “I’m not sentimental that way. Or maybe I’m too sentimental. Uncle Nobuo says the whole neighborhood got turned into a highway off-ramp about five years ago. Like in Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. Have you been back to New York?”
“Not since my parents moved to Maine.”
“Not even for a high school reunion? Me, neither. Sometimes I feel I should care more about the kids I knew back then. But high school was such not a big deal once I graduated. I do wonder about Becky Hoggan. She was the bad girl in my ward, like your Billy Bragg, except we were never really close friends. But she’s the reason I went on a mission.”
“Really? Why?”
“That’s a secret. What about Billy? What’s he up to these days?”
“He’s in the Coast Guard. I have his address around here somewhere. We’ll have to send him an announcement.”
“I have no idea where Becky is. I really should thank her. If I hadn’t gone on a mission, how would we have met?”
“I would have found you no matter what, remember.”
“But I like that you found me now.”
She prowled over to where Connor lay on the bed and knelt astride his torso. He undid her sash and slipped his hands inside the yukata, stroking her skin as he pulled her closer. Amidst the sudden rush of sensations, she felt an overwhelming tenderness for him. Husband, she whispered, crouching so their mouths could meet.
He cradled her in his arms, kissed her ears and neck and breasts. “I love you,” he said.
Her whole body tingled in response. “Yes,” she murmured, “yes.”
On Sunday Elly accepted a calling as first counselor in the Relief Society. Sandra Barnett was the Relief Society president. She quipped as they waited for Relief Society to begin, “I heard your engagement was rather— expeditious.” Then she observed that Elly wasn’t wearing a ring.
“It’s not a Japanese custom,” Elly explained. “In the old days, the guy would give his betrothed an obi.” She motioned around her waist. “That’s the sash to a kimono. A decent obi costs as much as a ring, so we’ve decided to forgo both for the time being.”
The truth was, except for that silly moment at the Cougareat, she hadn’t thought about it at all.
Subsequent declarations of her marital status followed something of a comic routine. The reaction of the second counselor, Carol Collings, was typical: “Connor? Oh, you mean Connor.” Then a confused look. “Connor got married?”
The Relief Society secretary, Yvonne Maynes, was new to the ward and had no idea who Connor was. Instead, she said, “Wow. Like, I was in a singles ward last semester and nobody was married, except the bishop.” Which made Elly feel very old.
Teaching didn’t make her feel old. Teaching made her feel in charge, and being in charge had a timeless quality to it. But it wasn’t something she wanted to be in all the time. Not like sex, for example. Supposedly she was going to get tired of it (sex) as she grew older and wiser, which to her mind was like saying she could get tired of chocolate. So when her desire waned, she took it as evidence of actual illness.
Connor found her standing at the kitchen sink in her yukata sipping a cup of mugi-cha. “You don’t look well.” He put his palm to her forehead. “I think you’ve got a fever.”
“Just a headache,” she mumbled.
He got her a bottle of Tylenol. She swallowed two caplets, closed her eyes, and leaned back against his chest. She’d almost fallen asleep on her feet when he straightened her. “Are you going to make it to class?”
“I’ll be okay. But no kissing, just in case.”
He kissed her on the forehead. “Want to go to the devotional?”
“I don’t think I’ll be in the mood to hike over to the Marriott Center.
I’ll come home and listen to it on the radio.”
“See you for lunch then?”
At lunch she was feeling better. “The headache’s gone. Now the sinuses are succumbing. I think I’m getting a sore throat.”
“In other words, you’re coming down with a cold.”
“Coming down with a cold when it’s eighty outside is just plain wrong.
You should only get colds in miserable weather.”
“It’s probably best that our immune systems get to know each other.
The equivalent of our own little chickenpox party.”
“I don’t like your germs.” She asked, “How late are you working tonight?”
“I should be off at seven.”
“I’ll be at the library with Susan and Melanie. The Asian Collection.”
“The Asian Collection never struck me as a place to get serious studying done.”
Elly laughed and then coughed and then sneezed. She went to get a Kleenex. “I think of it as part of Susan’s rehabilitation.”
“Not quite fair with you and Melanie there.”
“Oh, once they figure out that we’re unavailable, Susan moves right up in desirability. What, you never did?”
“I only went there to use the dictionaries.”
“I have a hard time believing that.”
He denied it with a halfhearted shrug.
Connor got to the library at a quarter past seven. He found an empty chair at the table next to Elly and Susan’s. Elly was explaining something to her and didn’t see him at first. A PE text marked Melanie’s place. Connor got out his laptop. He glanced at Elly. She tossed her head back, drew out her dark mane, and retied the pony tail. She saw him and gave him a small wave.
The guy sitting to his right said, “Who’s she waving at?”
The guy across the table said, “I think she recognized you from lab.” Guy number three said, “What lab are you talking about?”
“The Japanese 201 lab at the MARB.”
“What are you taking a 201 lab for?”
“It’s fun. That’s Susan Eliason she’s with. She’s in my 221 class, too.”
“It’s fun, I’m sure.” He lowered his voice a notch. “Meaning, you think
she’s cute.”
“Who? Susan? Yeah, she’s datable.”
“No, the Japanese girl.”
“Yeah, she’s okay.”
Connor bristled. She’s okay?
Guy number two rose to her defense. “C’mon, she’s a babe. Admit it.
Your problem is that she’s older than you and she’s a sensei.” Well, thanks, Connor thought.
“But if you’re an RM and you screw up, she’ll totally ream you out.”
“Like what?” guy number three asked.
“Dummy here asks a question and calls her anata.” He laughed. “And she comes back with, ‘Who are you, my husband?’ She went off on this whole riff. It was pretty funny.”
“Yeah, hilarious.”
The kid sitting across from Connor said, “What’s wrong with anata? It means ‘you,’ doesn’t it?” He was studying a Japanese 101 text. Probably a freshman. “I mean, she always makes us call her sensei.”
Connor explained, “In Japanese, you never use a personal pronoun to address a social superior, only the person’s title. It’s covered in Suzuki, Words in Context. I’m sure she’ll get around to it.”
The kid nodded.
“You’re taking her class? How do you like it?”
“It’s pretty tough. She hardly ever speaks English at all. I don’t think I get half of what she’s saying.”
“All missionaries feel the same way when they get to Japan, even after two months in the MTC.”
Guy number three leaned over the table and said, “Now, she’s a babe.”
Five heads swung to the left in time to see Melanie sitting down at the table. “I suppose,” said Guy number two, without great enthusiasm.
“Hey, be patriotic. We’re talking baseball, apple pie, and blondes.”
“Sensei’s name is McKenzie. That American enough for you?”
Guy number one said, “Anyway, I think she’s dating Greg Chalmers. Osaka Mission. He was in my MTC group.”
Guy number three pondered this new information. “McKenzie? Isn’t McKenzie president of Nagoya Mission?
The kid said, “Her father’s president of the Kobe Mission.”
Guys one, two and three looked at him. Guy number one said, “That’s not right. Packard’s president of Kobe Mission.”
“Packard is her maiden name,” Connor offered.
“Her maiden name? She’s married?” They exchanged doubtful looks. “Naw,” said guy number two.
Connor almost laughed. He gave the kid a helpless shrug.
Guy number two said, “She isn’t wearing a ring.”
Connor looked at his left hand as well.
“Hora, she’s coming over here.”
The rest of them at once immersed themselves in study.
Elly put her hand on Connor’s shoulder and said to the kid, “Ready for the test tomorrow, Mark?”
The kid nodded.
“Yosh.” She said to Connor, “Go-shujin-sama, shall we go?”
Connor put his laptop into his backpack and pushed back his chair. He said to the kid, “Hey, good luck.”
They weren’t quite out of earshot when one of the guys said, “Crap, that was her husband.” And then: “You can scratch her off your list, Al.”
As they walked down the stairs to the ground floor, Elly said, “You men seemed to be having a lively discussion.”
“I think it came down to whether you or Melanie had the greater babe factor.”
“Wow, I was even in the running? What about Susan?”
“She was deemed ‘datable.’”
“Datable? The old Susan was right. Men are dogs.”
“It came out even, I think. I didn’t get a vote from your student. Conflict of interest perhaps.”
“Don’t tell me you were participating in this discussion.”
“I was a silent observer.” Connor pushed through the doors.
“How are you feeling?”
“Tired. Sore throat. I can’t tell whether it’s getting better or worse.”
Connor searched through his backpack and produced a box of throat lozenges. “Cherry flavor.”
“You’re sweet.” She popped one into her mouth.
They walked along hand in hand in the falling twilight. Connor said, “We never did get around to exchanging rings.”
“Like I said, it’s not a Japanese custom.”
“We’re not in Japan. And when in Rome—”
“You already gave me twelve rings. The bed, remember? Umpteen zillion pounds per square inch of tensile strength.”
“What about wedding bands?”
She thought about it for a minute. “I can’t say I’d be opposed. So what brought this on?”
“Talking with your lab rats, your marital status came into question.”
“They thought I was born a McKenzie?”
“No less a Packard.”
“Oh, right. When I was a little kid I thought Paakado was a Japanese name. I couldn’t understand why there wasn’t a kanji for it.”
Connor said almost apologetically, “Exchanging rings seems like such a possessive thing to do. Like putting a fence around your property with big No Trespassing signs posted.”
“I wouldn’t worry about being possessive, husband. Not compared to me.” Elly frowned. “You haven’t been attracting the attention of comely young things, have you? That would be worrisome.”
He gave her a look that clearly said he had no interest in finding out how much so.