The Secret of Life

Her skin slid against his as he grew smaller. He was the size of a child, a baby ... he was the size of a thumb. Audrey’s body was a magic pleasure-park, and Conrad was her gardener. They began having fun. Before long she came, and Conrad got big again. “Oh, Conrad. That was wonderful.” There was noise out in the living room. One of Audrey’s roommates, a hyperactive vulgarian named Katha Kahane.

“Audrey?Ya here?” The bedroom door rattled.

“Don’t come in, Katha.”

“Who ya got in there tonight?”

“Fuck you, Kahane!” yelled Conrad.

Audrey winced, then began to laugh. “I’m sorry, Conrad.”

“Do you love me best?”

“Chinese brother.”

After a while they got dressed and went out. Conrad was still wearing the round glasses Chuckie had given him. The night city was black and yellow; the streets and buildings etched strange perspectives. A gibbous moon hung over the skyline.This is really going on , thought Conrad.I’m really alive.

“What were those two rules I used to have, Audrey?”

“What do you mean?”

“Sophomore year. I thought I had it all figured out. Rule 1:Don’t be a phony. And Rule 2:Don’t be a mean bastard. Remember?”

“You don’t believe that anymore? Now that you’ve expanded your consciousness? Is that what it feels

like to take peyote, Conrad; is it a feeling ofexpansion ?”

“I can’t believe you shrank like that.” A blush stole across Audrey’s cheek.

“Did Kahane think I was Richard?”

“She knew it was you. She just wanted to make you suffer. She doesn’t like you, Conrad. None of my friends ever have. Liked you. That’s something I like about you the most.”

“You really do love me?”

“Yes. But that doesn’t mean I have to marry you. Reading about the French Surrealists and Dadaists, I always think how wonderful it would have been to hang out with them in cafes. And you’re sort of like them. Only now, in America, being avant-garde is so seedy and violent. Sometimes you frighten me, Conrad. What if you’re just a drug-addict-bum your whole life? I wouldn’t want to live with a person like that. It’s too sad.” She glanced at him and looked away. “But you were saying about the two rules. If it’s not them, whatis it? What’s the answer?”

“Having adventures. Getting out to the edge and jumping off.” They turned the corner onto Broadway.

“Making it back is important, too. You go way out, further than anyone’s been, and then you come back to tell about it.” The street was full of people, happy-looking people. Conrad squeezed Audrey’s hand.

“After that peyote, I’m glad not to be dead or crazy. Even though I’m such a Chinese brother that nothing can bust me.”

“I wonder how you got this way.”

“It must have been something that happened when I was little. Radiation. Or maybe I’m not human. I keep having this feeling that I come from a flying saucer.”

“Oh, sure. What about your brother and your parents?”

“They could have been implanted with false memories. Really, it’s starting to seem like our whole generation is aliens. The geezers are just so ... square nowhere. Roast Beef. Vietnam. Dry Martini.

Gross National Product. Do the Twist. Kids These Days. Hot Black Coffee. Is That a Girl or a Boy?

They Call That Music?”

“Look at my new shades.” Audrey got a pair of aviator mirror-shades out of her purse. With the sunglasses and her long, tangled hair, she looked real gone. “I’ve been saving them for you. Richard doesn’t like them.”

“You lookbeat , Audrey.”

“So do you. With those yellow glasses, you look stoned.”

“We’re cool. We’ve made it. It’s time to groove.”

Chapter 16:

Friday, December 10, 1965 They decided to have supper in a dark-paneled tavern called the Gold Rail. The waiter helped them order food and a pitcher of beer. He didn’t card them.

“It’s civilized here,” said Conrad, filling their glasses.

“Just like in Paris.”

“Just like.”

They toasted each other and sipped the bitter, lip-tickling brew. Audrey took off her shades.

“How are your courses going?” asked Conrad.

“Philology is a lot of fun. Phonetics is awful. And we’ve been reading this great novel by Diderot. It’s all about men having sex with nuns. One man disguises himself as a nun to get into the convent—he’s a young shepherd named Valentin.”

“Do they catch him?”

“Well, one of the nuns gets pregnant, so they know there’s a man. The Mother Superior tells the nuns they have to line up naked and come into her room and be inspected one by one. So Valentin ties his ...

ties his cock back between his legs ...”

“What does he tie it to?”

“Idon’t know.” Audrey giggled and sipped at her beer. “Anyway, when the Mother Superior leans down to look at Valentin, he gets so excited that he breaks the ribbon and knocks off her glasses!”

“Sounds great.”

Their food arrived. Sole and crabmeat for her, steak and fries for him. It was delicious. They were in a booth near the bar. There was a good jukebox. The place was dark and loud and warm and full of good things to eat and drink.

After di

“I feel like I haven’t been thinking enough, Audrey. At college I’ve just been drinking and trying to act cool. When I should have been learning more about the secret of life. I used to always talk about it in high school.” There were some loud drunks at the bar. Fraternity guys from Columbia.

“So what is the secret of life, Conrad? Drugs?”

“Drugs ... I don’t know anything about drugs yet. All I’ve done is take peyote once and go crazy.

Actually, I was already crazy, from missing you so much. But the secret ...” Conrad raised his glass, feeling for the just-right phrasing.

Just then Hank Larsen appeared, walking into the Gold Rail as if he had been conjured up for the occasion. Fit and tired-looking, he wore a university jacket with a bigC on it. He and Conrad recognized each other the instant their eyes met.

“Conrad Bunger! My God, it’sConrad .” Hank strode over and began thumping on his old friend.

“Conrad, buddy. You look like John Le

“I don’t believe this, Hank. I was just thinking about you. The pasture? The secret of life? This is Audrey Hayes. She goes to grad school here, and I came up to see her.”

“Pleased to meet you.” Hank squeezed into their booth and called for beer. “I’ve just been down at the pool doing laps.Five miles. Coach is all steamed up about some big-ass meet we got next week.”

“Yeah ...” Hank laughed and shook his head. “They’ve made a jock out of me. A communications major. And I was pla

“What painting?” asked Audrey.

“It was when Conrad and I were twelve,” said Hank. “We got this huge piece of Masonite out of his dad’s garage and painted it with gesso. Then we took turns throwing black and red paint on it like Jackson Pollock. Conrad had this idea to make it like the Creation, so he read the Book of Genesis out loud while I was flinging paint. It looked damn good.”

“You were better at painting than I was,” said Conrad. “We each did some small ones, too, remember, and you were trying to paint like Tanguy and Dali.”

“I love those guys. That’s one of the great things about living here in the Big Noise. I can always cut over the MOMA and look at the paintings.”

“I do that, too,” said Audrey. “I love New York.”

“I first came up here when I was twelve,” said Hank. “My dad took me along on a business trip. We went to Radio City. God. They had all the dancers, and this great stage show—there was a kind of big wagon that kept zooming back and forth, with people jumping in and out of it.”