reading?»
Rebecca immediately folded the paper, buried it in her purse, and avoided Julius`s
gaze. Everyone sat quietly until Tony broke the silence.
«Well, I gotta talk. I can`t talk for Rebecca but I`ll talk for myself. My problem
when you were speaking was that I already know what you`re going to tell us about
your...health. So it was hard to look at you and pretend I was hearing something new.
And yet I just couldn`t interrupt you to tell you that I knew it already.»
«How? What do you mean you knew what I was going to say? What in hell is
going on today?»
«Julius, I`m sorry, let me explain,” said Gill. «I mean, in a way I`m to blame. After
the last meeting I was still frazzled and not clear about when or whether to go home or
where to sleep that night. I really put pressure on everyone to come to the coffee shop,
where we continued the meeting.»
«Yeah? And?» Julius coaxed, moving his hand in a small circle as though
conducting an orchestra.
«Well, Philip told us what the score was. You know—about your health and about
the malignant myeloma—”
«Melanoma,” Philip softly interjected.
Gill glanced at the paper in his hand. «Right, melanoma. Thanks, Philip. Keep
doing that. I get mixed up.»
«Multiple myeloma is a cancer of the bone,” said Philip. «Melanoma is a cancer of
the skin, think of melanin, pigment, skin coloring—”
«So those sheets are...,” interrupted Julius, gesturing with his hands to invite Gill
or Philip to explain.
«Philip downloaded information about your medical condition and prepared a
summary, which he handed out just as we entered the room a few minutes ago.» Gill
extended his copy toward Julius, who saw the heading: Malignant Melanoma.
Staggered, Julius sat back in his chair. «I...uh...don`t know how to put it...I feel
preempted, I feel like I had a big news story to tell you and I`ve been scooped, scooped
on my own life story—or death story.» Turning and speaking directly to Philip, Julius
said, «Had you any guesses about how I`d feel about that?»
Philip remained impassive, neither replying nor looking at Julius.
«That`s not entirely fair, Julius,” said Rebecca, who removed her barrette, loosened
her long black hair, and twisted it into a coil on the top of her head. «He`s not at fault
here. First of all, Philip did not, in the worst way, want to go to the coffee shop after the
meeting. Said he didn`t socialize, said he had a class to prepare. We had to practically
drag him there.»
«Right.» Gill took over. «We talked mostly about me and my wife and where I
should sleep that night. Then, of course, we all asked Philip about why he was in therapy,
which is only natural—every new member gets asked that—and he told us about your
phone call to him which was prompted by your illness. That news jolted us, and we
couldn`t let it pass without pressing him to tell us what he knew. Looking back, I don`t
see how he could have withheld that from us.»
«Philip even asked,” Rebecca added, «whether it was kosher for the group to meet
without you.»
«Kosher? Philip saidthat ?» asked Julius.
«Well, no,” said Rebecca, «come to think of it,kosher was my term, not his. But
that was his meaning, and I told him that we often had a postgroup session at the coffee
shop and that you`ve never raised objections about it except to insist that we debrief
everyone who wasn`t there in the next meeting so that there be no secrets.»
It was good that Rebecca and Gill gave Julius time to calm himself. His mind
churned with negativity:That ungrateful prick, that undercutting bastard. I try to do
something for him, and this is what I get for it—no good deed goes unpunished. And I can
just imagine how little he told the group about himself and why he had been in therapy
with me in the first place.... I`d lay big money that he conveniently forgot to tell the group
that he had screwed about a thousand women without an ounce of care or compassion
for a single one of them.
But he kept all these thoughts to himself and gradually cleansed his mind of rancor
by considering the events following the last meeting. He realized thatof course the group
would have pressured Philip to attend a postgroup coffee and that Philip would have been
swayed by the group pressure to attend—indeed he himself was at fault for not having
informed Philip about these periodic postgroup get–togethers. And,of course, the group
would have questioned Philip about why he was in therapy—Gill was right—the group
never failed to pose this question to a new member, andof course Philip would have to
reveal the story of their unusual history and subsequent contract for therapy—what
choice did he have? As for his distributing medical information on malignant
melanoma—that was Philip`s own idea, no doubt his way of ingratiating himself with the
group.
Julius felt wobbly, couldn`t pull off a smile, but braced himself and continued.
«Well, I`ll do my best to talk about this. Rebecca, let me take a good look at that sheet.»
Julius quickly scanned it. «These medical facts seem accurate so I won`t repeat them, but
I`ll just fill you in on my experience. It started with my doctor spotting an unusual mole
on my back, which a biopsy confirmed was a malignant melanoma. Of course that`s why
I canceled the group—had a rough couple of weeks, really rough, letting it sink in.»
Julius`s voice quavered. «As you see, it`s still rough.» He paused, took a deep breath, and
continued. «My doctors can`t predict my future, but what is important here is they feel
strongly that I have at least a year of good health ahead. So this group will be open for
business as usual for the twelve months. No, wait, let me put it this way: health
permitting, I commit myself to meet with you for one more year, at which time the group
will terminate. Sorry to be clumsy about it, but I`ve had no practice at this.»
«Julius, is this seriously life threatening?» asked Bonnie. «Philip`s Internet
information...all these statistics based on stages of the melanoma.»
«Straight question and the straight answer is вЂyes`—definitely life threatening. The
chances are good that this thing will get me in the future. I know that wasn`t an easy
question to ask, but I appreciate your straightforwardness, Bonnie, because I`m like most
people with major illness—I hate everyone to be pussyfooting around. That would just
isolate and frighten me. I`ve got to get used to my new reality. I don`t like it, but life as a
healthy carefree person—well,that life is definitely coming to an end.»
«I`m thinking of what Philip said to Gill last week. I wonder—is there something
of value in there for you, Julius? asked Rebecca. «I`m not sure if it was in the coffee shop
or here in the group—but it had to do with defining yourself or your life by your
attachments. Do I have it right, Philip?»
«When I spoke to Gill last week,” said Philip, speaking in a measured tone and
avoiding eye contact, «I pointed out that the more attachments one has, the more
burdensome life becomes and the more suffering one experiences when one is separated
from these attachments. Schopenhauer and Buddhism both hold that one must release
oneself from attachments and—”
«I don`t think that is helpful to me,” interrupted Julius, «and I`m also not sure if
this is where this meeting should be going.» He noted a quick pregnant glance passing
between Rebecca and Gill but continued, «I come in on that in the opposite way:
attachments, and plenty of them, are the indispensable ingredients of a full life, and to
