“What are you into?”
Dennis stared at the man sitting next to him without speaking.
“Your music,” the man said. “What are you listening to? When I was your age, I was really into the Clash.”
“It’s not music,” said Dennis, his blue eyes blinking uncomfortably. “It’s a book.”
“Really? What’s the book?”
“It’s about biology.”
“Cool. What’s the title?”
Dennis did not like adults who said “cool.” He said “cool” sometimes, to his friends, but never to an adult.
“Chance and Necessity,” he said, reluctantly.
The book’s title was really Le Hasard et la Nécessité, and Dennis was listening to it French, but he didn’t tell that to the man. Dennis knew it would make him mad.
The man hesitated. Dennis turned his head and closed his eyes.
“I’ll let you get back to your book,” the man said, uncomfortably. Fat little fuck, he thought to himself, with irritation. You’ve got a ways to go.
Dennis was already back inside the book, listening to a precise French voice reciting Jacques Monod’s argument regarding life and the cosmos. He kept his eyes shut for the rest of the flight into DC, which further irritated the man sitting next to him whenever he happened to glance over at Dennis.
Dennis briefly opened his eyes as the plane landed but then closed them again once the reversing engines brought the 737 to a halt. He was seated near the rear of the plane and knew it would be a long time before he’d be able to leave his seat. He didn’t want to have to talk to the man again and felt it was somehow “safer” to pretend that he habitually listened to recorded books with his eyes shut.
When Dennis heard the storage compartments above him opening and closing he opened his eyes and put away his CD player. He didn’t have any luggage with him other than his backpack. He stored his CD player and sat with his pack on his lap.
“Take it easy,” said the man as he got up from his seat and made room for Dennis in the aisle.
“Sure. Thanks,” Dennis muttered. He knew the man was being polite. He stood with his pack at his feet, staring at the man’s back until the line of people crowding off the plane finally began to move. Then he slung the pack over his left shoulder and walked slowly up the aisle.
As he entered the airport he looked for his father but didn’t see him. He sat in a chair and waited for fifteen minutes. Dad wasn’t coming. Dennis found a pay phone. He dialed the phone number of his father’s secretary in Princeton.
“Dad’s not here,” he said. “He was supposed to pick me up.”
“I’m sorry, Dennis,” Irene said. “He was in New York. He was supposed to arrive in Washington last night. Did you try his secretary there?”
“She never knows anything,” said Dennis, which wasn’t true.
“Did you try Myron or Yu-Ne?” she asked.
“No.”
“Well, I can try them for you if you like. I guess I could send a limo for you, if you’d like that.”
Dennis didn’t want a limo. He didn’t want to take a taxi either. He wanted someone to pick him up.
“I’ll take a taxi,” he said.
“What about your luggage? You’re coming back from camp, aren’t you?”
“Yes. They sent it ahead.”
“All right. Have you got enough money?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Call me when you get home.”