The Cambridge Chronicles

I have just realized that putting this piece of paper in the typewriter was an almost completely unconscious act. I was barely aware of doing so. But its time to write something. Don't know what. Simone received a phone call from Panama. Someone she used to work with. A woman painter who is very successful. She can't get out of the country. The political situation is difficult because of the recent death of the president there.

Simone shrieks at me, Richard! I got a job interview for this art thing at a nearby, the Harrington, school. I had just criticized her for not doing anything. Waste of good criticism. She turns it around on me.

Doll-face has a girlfriend tonight, she said. One of our neighbors. We pass on the street and she says things like, I wonder what kind of secrets are hidden under that red t-shirt. She asks me one day, you're a doctor aren't you. Sometimes she just walks by with her head down and looking at the ground. She's middle-aged, a little fat, always walking up and down the street it seems. But then she notices that I do this often.

Last night I did a laying-on-of-hands with Simone. It was a common thing in the Mormon church. Jack and I held her hands. I had a hand on her stomach. We moved our hands in a steady motion. Up or down or side-to-side on her stomach. It was also important to speak with her. But the most important part was the tone of her voice. It has to send the feeling of concern and care for her. The same with the physical contact. She has started to get dizzy and sick again. The first recent incident happened at her psychosynthesis course. She and another woman were with the male co-leader. They were very physical with him. He was being massaged by two women who desired him. A conflict. He doesn't want to reject or insult either of them. The situation gets no resolution for any of them. About three that morning she starts coughing up blood and gets taken to the hospital. It is not usual for her to not win in this sort of competition. But back to yesterday, and today. She has shit an unprecedented 7 times in the last two days. Three times last night. Two times this morning, and 2 times this afternoon.

Simone and Linda are starting to accuse me of playing favorites again. Each says the other is manipulating me and wants me all to herself. They play little tricks on each other. And each of them imagines that I play some sort of game on them in collusion with the other. Paranoia strikes deep, into your heart it will creep. Linda has forgotten to give Simone a message from Nancie, and Simone has to reinforce the bad impression that Nancie has of Linda.

I got a postcard from Chile today. It was from Richard Harms. A high school classmate of mine. He was a year behind me. He was always smarter. I was often jealous of him and his abilities. As a freshman he won the county math contest against all the hotshot seniors in that years class. They were really pissed off at this. He was in Chile for some sort of astronomical observations and has promised to write later and tell me what's happened since I last heard from him.