4. I'm 42, Not 17
The phone rang.
“I got your message, but I don’t know if I can do it.”
“You can’t? Why not?”
“Barbara and I are supposed to get together. We were going to have dinner and then go to bed early. “
“You can’t sleep with Barbara. You have to save up the stored sperm for me!” (I can’t believe I said this.)
” Look. There seems to be some complication on her end. Let me talk to her and I’ll call you back.”
Five minutes till my French class and Tom called back.
“Ok, we’re on. Barbara had to cancel because her kid is sick.”
“Really? That’s spooky. Propitious. Maybe this is it.”
“I’ll drive over to your place. Since Barbara lives next door to me, I think it would be better.”
I didn’t give it another thought. I went to my French class and began conjugating verbs in the conditional and the subjunctive tenses and practicing a conversation about “mon Cowboy adoré.” As soon as I got home, I put on my nightshirt and sweat pants and pulled out the baby-making paraphernalia.
The equipment was simple — a small glass cup, glass because I had read that metal kills sperm, and a syringe, actually designed for injecting medicine into infant’s mouths. It was the only syringe I could find for sale at the drugstore. It came with a cap for sealing the mixture inside until you were ready to squirt. And it pulled apart for easy washing. My only hesitation was the length. It was very short next to even an average size erect penis. It wasn’t going to boost any slow swimmers up near my cervix any time soon.
But they ought to be able to swim on their own I thought. As a kid, I always heard stories about girls getting pregnant without actual penetration. I’m 42, not 17, I said to myself. Not exactly ripe fruit, not like the young girls who don’t look tired even if they are—those just-boiled dumplings. They bob and soar, spongy and firm, shiny hair and bright eyes. Their beauty is astounding. Actually, it is not beauty. It is youth. Just like my mother used to say, “There are no ugly girls anymore.”
Finally I understood. I am old enough to recognize that youth and beauty are synonymous.