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gods to explain them. Or chemical symbols. They’re never explained in human terms.” She looked at him, puzzled, and he felt a great urge to make her understand. “You relate to what I’m saying?”
    “Well. I don’t know. The natural elements exist outside of, uh, us. They shouldn’t be explained in our terms.”
    “Listen. Since we’re human, it’s childish of us to explain things unless we explain them in terms of our perceptions. A flood is a great deal of water that drowns us, sweeps our homes away, tears up the land we’ve grown used to. Snow is white and it’s very cold. It’s soft for a while and then it hardens and becomes very dirty, like we do when we grow older.”
    “Life’s better than that.”
    “I was exaggerating for effect.”
    “The way you talk about it, nothing changes. The way somebody first felt about rain is the only reasonable way for anyone to ever think about rain. That’s too much to expect of people to never invent anything else. It’s too boring.”
    Richard saw that it was futile explaining to her, that it was silly even to have made an attempt. “I guess so,” he said with what he hoped was an ironic smile. How distinguished of him, he thought, to bow out so maturely rather than to argue stubbornly. He was learning about life.
    “Raul said you’ve dropped out of high school.”
    “Yeah.”
    “And your parents don’t mind?”
    “Oh no.”
    “Are they going to support you?”
    “For a while. I’m hoping to make some money.”
    “You’re gonna get a job?”
    The novel. Should he discuss the novel? “Yeah, I guess so.” From his response, Joan obviously thought he was going nowhere, but he preferred that to being ridiculed for writing.
    She got up. “Let’s go back to the party.”
    Richard was dismayed. He thought she was enjoying this chat, and the unreal assurance of her admiration changed to real assurance of her dislike. The loneliness pressed in on him again. What was just a fit of alienation due to the grass was really the burden of his life, unshakable and remorseless.
    “Are you worried about going in there?” she asked.
    He could confess everything, maybe she’d take pity on him. He looked straight at her and waited for the words.
    “I mean they’re all nice people,” she said.
    “The grass has made me feel weird. So I think I’ll go.”
    “All right,” she said with what might have been regret.

CHAPTER THREE
    Richard was spending the night with an old friend from Cabot, Bill, who had also invited a thin blond young man named Frank. It had all been arranged so there was no need for discussion. They seemed much like three clean-cut little boys: dressed in their pajamas, surrounded by Bill’s posters and records. Playboy magazines, schoolbooks, and two cots cluttered the room but added to the camp atmosphere. Each had taken a shower. Frank returned from his and found Richard and Bill lying on the cots and looking at the Playboy magazines. They put them aside and Bill picked up a pack of cards while Richard patted a place next to him for Frank. Frank sat down and looked at the five cards Bill had dealt him. Richard had a pair of tens and asked for three more cards. Frank got one and Bill pulled two for himself. Richard laughed and said, “I wish it was for money. Trip tens.”
    Neither Bill nor Frank had better, so they took off their tops. Frank’s chest was hairless, his nipples very pink, but Richard got a glimpse of blond underarm hair which pleased him. Bill enjoyed the look of Frank’s smooth skin and flat belly. Richard dealt the next hand unsteadily, his tingling self-conscious penis eager that Frank should lose. Bill was also pleased when Frank looked sadly at his cards. Bill won and Richard quickly took his top off, fearful of missing Frank disrobing. Richard’s penis strained away from him as Frank stood in the agreed spot for important unveilings.
    Frank’s erection pointed straight to his navel, falling forward and pointing