The Wapshot Chronicle - John Cheever [56]
“Do you think this had any effect on your fundamental attitude toward your father?”
“Well, sir, I never thought about it but I guess maybe it did. I sometimes had a feeling that he might hurt me. I never used to like to wake up and hear him walking around the house late at night. But this was foolish because I knew he wouldn’t hurt me. He never punished me.”
“Did she punish you?”
“Well, not very often, but once she just laid my back open. I guess perhaps it was my fault. We went down to Travertine swimming—I was with Pete Meacham—and I decided to climb up on the roof of the bathhouse where we could see the women getting undressed. It was a dirty thing to do but we hadn’t even hardly got started when the caretaker caught us. Well my mother took me home and she told me to get undressed and she took my great-grandfather’s buggy whip—that was Benjamin—and she just laid my back open. There was blood all over the wall. My back was such a mess she got scared, but of course she didn’t dare call a doctor because it would be embarrassing, but the worst thing was I couldn’t go swimming for the rest of that summer. If I went swimming people would see these big sores on my back. I wasn’t able to go swimming all that summer.”
“Do you think this had any effect on your fundamental attitude toward women?”
“Well, sir, where I come from, I think it’s hard to take much pride in being a man. I mean the women are very powerful. They are kind and they mean very well, but sometimes they get very oppressive. Sometimes you feel as if it wasn’t right to be a man. Now there’s this story they tell about Howie Pritchard. On his wedding night he’s supposed to have put his foot into the chamber pot and pissed down his leg so his wife wouldn’t hear the noise. I don’t think he should have done that. If you’re a man I think you ought to be proud and happy about it.”
“Have you ever had any sexual experiences?”
‘Twice,” Coverly said. “The first time was with Mrs. Maddern. I don’t suppose I should name her but everybody in the village knew about her and she was a widow.”
“Your other experience?”
“That was with Mrs. Maddern too.”
“Have you ever had any homosexual experiences?”
“Well, I guess I know what you mean,” Coverly said. “I did plenty of that when I was young but I swore off it a long time ago. But it seems to me that there’s an awful lot of it around. There’s more around anyhow than I expected. There’s one in this place where I’m living now. He’s always asking me to come in and look at his pictures. I wish he’d leave me alone. You see, sir, if there’s one thing in the whole world that I wouldn’t want to be it’s a fruit.”
“Now would you like to tell me about your dreams?”
“I dream about all kinds of things,” Coverly said. “I dream about sailing and traveling and fishing but I guess mostly what you’re interested in is bad dreams, isn’t it?”
“What do you mean by bad dreams?”
“Well, I dream I do it with this woman,” Coverly said. “I never saw this woman in real life. She’s one of those beautiful women you see on calendars in barbershops. And sometimes,” Coverly said, blushing and hanging his head, “I dream that I do it with men. Once I dreamed I did it with a horse.”
“Do you dream in color?” the doctor asked.
“I’ve never noticed,” Coverly said.
“Well, I think our time is about up,” the doctor said.
“Well, you see, sir,” Coverly said, “I don’t want you to think that I’ve had an unhappy childhood. I guess what I’ve told you doesn’t give you a true picture but I’ve heard a little about psychology and I guessed what you wanted to know about were things like that. I’ve really had an awfully good time. We live on a farm and have a boat and plenty of hunting and fishing and just about the best food in the world. I’ve had a happy time.”
“Well, thank you, Mr. Wapshot,” the doctor said, “and good-by.”
On Monday morning Coverly got up early and had his pants pressed as soon as the tailor shop opened. Then he walked to his cousin’s office in midtown. A receptionist asked if he had an appointment and when he said that he hadn