Story of a Sociopath Read online

She said nothing, but tried to walk faster to get there sooner.

  When we got inside Lisa was soaked. Her updo had collapsed and water had sluiced down her face, taking with it layers of makeup and eye shadow. The mink stole her mother had lent her was equally wet and had not protected her silk dress, which now stuck to her body. And as for her shoes, they were completely useless.

  “Sit down,” I said, and took her to a corner table. “I’ll order us coffee.”

  “I don’t want coffee. Get something stronger.”

  “Like what?” I asked in irritation.

  “Is gin all right for you?”

  “No, it’s not all right. You’ve had enough for one night and you’re frozen: you need something hot.”

  “Get me some gin and stop preaching.”

  The waitress looked at us from a few feet away. She didn’t seem at all surprised to see two sodden figures in a dress and a tuxedo. Her gaze was both indifferent and condescending, more or less half one and half the other.

  “Gin for both of you?” she asked before I could say anything.

  “Gin for her, and a strong coffee for me.”

  “Anything to eat?”

  “No, we’ve just come from a dinner.”

  “Right.”

  I called several car services without success. Lisa looked at me angrily, as if it were my duty to find a cab.

  “The only other thing I can do is call my brother and ask him to come pick us up.”

  “Your goody-two-shoes brother has a car?”

  “Well, he could take my mother’s car keys.”

  “How old is he?”

  “Seventeen.”

  She was making me nervous with her questions. Why should she care how old my brother was? Also, I wasn’t sure that Jaime would pick us up without telling my mother.

  “Call Esther.”

  “Esther? You’re crazy. Do you really want to wake her up at this time of night?”

  “She’s a good girl, and she won’t mind doing us a favor. Good girls don’t leave people they know abandoned in the street when it’s snowing. You wouldn’t go rescue her, and I wouldn’t either, but she’ll come rescue us.”

  She was right. To my surprise, Esther agreed to come. Lisa gave her the address of the café and said thank you.

  “Well, she is a good girl,” I said in surprise.

  “And she likes you. Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed? Thomas, the whole academy knows. Why else do you think she lets us copy her work? She’s a stupid little good girl.”

  Half an hour later Esther turned up at the café. She didn’t blame us for anything or ask us any questions; she just took us home. We dropped Lisa off first, and then she took me home.

  “Thank you, Esther, you saved our lives. We got unlucky with the cabs tonight.” I felt foolish, trying to apologize.

  “Don’t worry. You’d have done the same for me.”

  No. I felt the urge to say that I wouldn’t have done the same, not for her, not for anybody. That I wouldn’t have left my house at eleven o’clock at night in a snowstorm to find a couple of classmates who didn’t even behave like classmates should. But I shut up and nodded. I think she knew deep down that I wouldn’t have gone out of my way to help her, not in circumstances like these or in any others.

  My house was silent when I arrived, but I was shocked to see a light on in my father’s office. I tiptoed past the door, but I hadn’t taken more than a step when I heard my father’s voice.

  “Thomas.”

  “Yes, Dad.”

  “Your mother and I are waiting for you. Come in.”

  The presence of my mother meant a storm was coming. They must have already been made aware of the scandal that Lisa and I had unleashed. My father knew a great many of the Fergusons’ guests, and one of them must have hurried to tell them about our behavior.

  My mother, wrapped up in a robe, sat in an armchair. She looked at me bitterly, once more regretting the lack of communication between us.

  “What happened? How could you behave so…so terribly? I’m ashamed of all the things I had to hear about you and this girl…” My father’s upper lip trembled, an unmistakable sign that he was upset.

  I said nothing. I didn’t know what to say and I was not feeling strong enough to be insolent, which was what my mother wanted from me.

  “I want an explanation, Thomas,” my father insisted.

  “I can’t give you one,” I replied in a tired voice.

  “You can’t? You can and you must.” My father’s voice was filled with indignation, but also pain.

  “I don’t have to explain anything,” I said, and turned toward the door.

  “You slimy little bastard!” my mother shouted.

  I turned toward her, furious. She was still seated, but you could see the tension in her body and her face. If she had dared to do it she would have hit me.

  “Carmela, please!” My father looked at her in anger.

  “He has to give us an explanation. He’s made you look ridiculous. Yes, you: it’s you who knows all these important people. You yourself said that there were clients of yours who would be at the dinner, and some of your classmates from Harvard, and, best of all, the wife of one of your most important clients, that unbearable Donovan woman, who has taken it upon herself to make sure everyone knows what kind of a son we have.”

  I felt nervous when I found out that Martha Donovan had been at the dinner. I hadn’t seen her, but that was not surprising; there had been more than three hundred people there. My mother felt no affection for this woman, who represented everything that she was not. Martha Donovan was the daughter of one of the steel kings. Her family was East Coast aristocracy, she had gone to Radcliffe, and she was married to Robert Donovan, one of Wall Street’s most influential bankers. You did not want to be on Martha Donovan’s bad side if you wanted to be received in New York society. And my behavior had made my father look bad.

  “I’m not going to give you any kind of explanation, and I don’t have to. Good night.”

  “Thomas…”

  But I did not respond to my father’s call. I went to my room and bolted the door, knowing that one of them would try to come ask me the reasons for my behavior.

  What happened did not have to happen. I have never felt proud of that episode with Lisa, but neither have I regretted it.

  Things should have gone differently, yes, but I was not brave enough to tell Lisa what to do:

  When she ordered me into the restroom I should have said no, although she would have blown her top and insulted me. Lisa could have thrown me out of the dinner, but I should have taken that risk. If she had done so then she would have been the one making a fuss, and I would have been the offended party. What should I have done when Lisa insisted that I follow her to the restroom?

  “No, and I mean no. Are you crazy? If you want to cause a scandal tonight I’m not going to be any part of it,” I should have said.

  Lisa would have been surprised at my refusal to participate in one of her games.

  “Come on, don’t be a coward. I’m desperate to have a quick fuck. Do you want me to find someone else?”

  “Do what you want, but I’m not going into the women’s restroom with you. At least have a bit of taste when you’re trying to find somewhere to have sex.”

  “Now who’s fussy! Any of the men here would die to do it with me, wherever we went.”

  “Well, I suppose you’ve got a lot of people to choose from, then. Go and ask around, see how many go with you. Tell me how it went.”

  “You’re an idiot! Was this why I insisted that my mother invite you? Why don’t you get out of here, you snob? Go back to your mommy.”

  “Are you sure you want me to go?” I would have said, looking firm and serious.

  “Yes, get out! I’m sick of you. You’re so boring.”

  Lisa would have turned to the guest on her left and ignored me for a while as I asked myself what to do.

  Suddenly, Lisa would h
ave spoken in a loud voice to her mother.

  “Mother dear, you’re right: Thomas isn’t the one for me. Can you ask him to leave? He’s making me feel uncomfortable and…well, either he goes or I do.”

  The guests at our table would have waited, silent and expectant and probably a little uncomfortable. Mr. Ferguson would have cleared his throat, looking at his wife in search of an answer. His wife would have smiled and looked at me, waiting for me to show a spark of dignity and leave, which is exactly what I would have done.

  “If you don’t mind…Thank you so much for your kind invitation. The dinner was a great success. How could it fail to be, given the worthiness of the cause? Good night.”

  And, looking straight ahead, I would have left the dining room with a steady stride in the face of the astonished guests, in an overt display of dignity. Yes, I could have felt proud of myself. Also, Lisa would have been furious at my rebellion and that would have raised me in her esteem. She was only ever interested in things she could not control.

  My father would have been surprised to see me come home early. I would have told him part of the truth—that I had argued with Lisa over a matter of no importance. Although he would have liked to insist, my father would not have pressured me to tell him the cause of the argument. My mother would have given no sign of interest, and so I would have saved myself from having to give her an explanation too.

  Or else I might not have been capable of standing up to Lisa and would have followed her to the restroom. But once we were there I should have refused to take off my pants.

  “This is ridiculous. Do you think we can do anything here? I don’t feel like it.”

  “You’re a fag.”

  “I don’t care what you say. Let’s get out of here.”

  I should have opened the door to the stall and faced up to the recriminatory gazes of the scandalized women.

  “I’m sorry, this was stupid. A stupid bet. I hope we haven’t disturbed you too much.”

  Of course, they would have told the rest of the guests, but it wouldn’t have been as bad.

  Or else Lisa, to hurt her mother, would have decided to say that she was bored with being surrounded by old farts and would have left, asking me to accompany her. And I would have had to be firm with her.

  “Lisa, it’s a great party and I don’t see why we need to go. Thank you very much for inviting me to spend such a special night with you all. I could not have had more pleasant dining companions.”

  I can imagine Lisa’s anger. She would have kicked my shin and elbowed me in the kidneys, insisting that we leave and insulting her mother’s guests. I would have had only one option.

  “I think it would be best if I escorted Lisa out. It would not be fair to allow her to ruin a night as wonderful as this one. I’m very sorry to have to leave, but it’s better if I go with her. Don’t worry, I’ll get a cab and take her home.”

  At this point, Lisa would have stood up and headed toward the exit. I would have followed her angrily.

  “Is this how you leave me in front of your parents? What will they think of me? There are people here who know my parents! I don’t need to make a fool of myself just for you. So this is it. I’m sick of your whims and childish behavior. Grow up. You’re a woman, not a baby.”

  I should have realized that what we were doing was not good. Above all, I should not have been afraid to stand up to Lisa.

  My last chance would have been when I got home. Yes, at this point I could, perhaps, at least in front of my parents, have lessened the impact of what I had done.

  When I saw the light in my father’s office it should have been me who went in and showed my face.

  “Thomas, come in. Come here. What happened? They called us. How could you have behaved so badly?”

  “Dad, I’m sorry, you don’t know how sorry I am. There’s no excuse for what I did. Lisa…well, Lisa is a little difficult. It’s hard to disagree with her and sometimes…She gets along very badly with her mother and wanted to upset her, to make her ashamed in front of her friends, and I was a part of it. I don’t know how to apologize. Don’t think that I’m proud of what I’ve done. If I could go back in time, if I could make things better…”

  My mother would have looked at me in disbelief. She would not have been prepared for any contrition on my part, and far less for me to say something like this to her face.

  “You’ve made us all look ridiculous, especially your father. That Donovan woman called…You can imagine what this is going to cost him. You’re an ungrateful little bastard!”

  “Carmela, please, I don’t want to hear you say that! Thomas, are you aware of the damage you’ve done, not just to us but to yourself? We have a reputation, a good name. There are lots of doors that will open to you in this life, simply because of who you are, but they can also close, forever, if you behave inappropriately. I can’t believe what we’ve been told.”

  “Shamefully, no one has exaggerated anything. I’m sorry for how I’ve behaved tonight. It’s not an excuse, but I let myself get carried away by Lisa. I…Believe me that I’m embarrassed and willing to do anything to try to fix this, even if it turns out to be impossible…”

  “Of course it’s impossible!” My mother would not be able to control the bitterness that my behavior had provoked in her.

  “I could apologize. I don’t know, maybe I could write a letter to the Fergusons’ guests, or at least the people you know. To the Donovans, of course. I’ll send them some flowers…”

  “Flowers? Do you think that old bat is going to be satisfied with a bunch of flowers? She’ll be telling all of Manhattan that you are a savage with no upbringing. She’ll be closing doors against you as we speak, and you will never be able to open them again. I hope that what you’ve done doesn’t affect your father’s firm or your brother’s future.”

  “You care about everyone except me,” I would have replied, hoping to move her.

  My mother would doubtless have calmed down. After all, she did love me.

  “That might be a solution. Perhaps it won’t fix anything, but it would at least be a suitable gesture that they would have to acknowledge. Yes, send them some flowers and a note of apology. And you should apologize to everyone who was there, all the people you remember seeing. Write to them and tell them that it was immature on your part, that you’re sorry, that you’re trying to work out how to remedy what you did. Tomorrow you can start writing those apologies and we’ll send them out at once,” my father would have said.

  “Do you think it will help?” my mother would have asked, hopefully.

  “It will be better than nothing. If he apologizes then there will be people who accept that it was nothing but childish behavior. It’s the only option.”

  “Dad, believe me when I say that I’m sorry. I…I feel ashamed and I’m sorry if my behavior this evening hurt you. It was not my intention…”

  “You haven’t behaved well, but I’m pleased that you realize your mistake and are ready to apologize. The important thing is to recognize your errors so as not to make them again.”

  What a scene! My father would have forgiven me. I know. And my mother would have been vanquished by my attitude and would have tried to hug me.

  I would have spent the rest of the night writing these apologies and would have surprised my father at the breakfast table by handing them over for his secretary to mail.

  And as for Lisa, it would have been best to break up with her once and for all. Nothing good could come from our relationship.

  —

  Yeah, that’s what didn’t happen. I slept well that night, probably as a result of the tension and what had happened, and the next day I was pleased to see Lisa at school. She was radiant, in tight-fitting jeans, boots that came up to her thighs as though she were a musketeer, and a pale pink sweater that showed off her curves.

  “What a night last night, right?” was how she greeted me.

  “My parents were furious. They’re not going to let this one
slide,” I said grumpily.

  “Do what I do. Tell them to go screw themselves. My mother tried to give me one of her stupid talks this morning, but I shut the door on her. Then my father tried to do the same. They threatened to take my allowance. ‘You won’t have two cents to rub together,’ my mother said. My father tried to get me to apologize to the guests. He wants me to write to everyone who came. They’re nuts! The funniest part was when my mother shouted through my door that she wanted to send me to a clinic because she thinks I’m fucked up in the head. Bitch! What did your parents say?”

  “My father wants me to apologize, and I think that’d be enough for him. As for my mother, well, I’ve told you about her. Nothing’s good enough for her. She’s not speaking to me for the time being. My father left before breakfast, and my mother looked right through me when I came into the kitchen.”

  “At least they don’t try to mess with your head with all the crap they talk. You know we’re in the papers? A couple of gossip columnists who were at the party pointed us out as two extravagant, bad-mannered kids, and said our behavior was the result of having grown up spoiled. Look, I brought the article.”

  Lisa seemed proud that the gossip columnists wrote about what had happened and said that we’d done whatever we could to draw attention to ourselves. One of the journalists wondered what right we had to behave like “rebellious youth” if we had had such privileged upbringings.

  These articles made Lisa happy, but they upset me. I didn’t like people talking about me at all, let alone in the terms these journalists used. At this point Esther came by. Lisa ignored her and walked off.

  “She could at least say hello!” Esther complained.

  I didn’t say anything, and shrugged. I felt uncomfortable that Esther had been a witness to our unfortunate adventure.

  “We were in the papers,” I said, apologetically.

  “I know, you’re the only thing anyone’s talking about. I heard Paul saying that you’re not going to fool him and that he’s going to keep an eye on you because he doesn’t trust you.”

  It bothered me a great deal that Paul could have said such a thing about me and Lisa. Who was he to judge?