Lessons in Chemistry
- Автор: Garmus Bonnie
- Год: 2022
- Язык: английский
- Год: Doubleday Canada
- Жанр: Современная русская и зарубежная проза
Электронная книга - «Lessons in Chemistry». Краткое содержание книги:
“But why is saying what you think so rare?”
“Because there are consequences,” Harriet said.
“Huge consequences,” Walter agreed.
From a TV in the corner Elizabeth said, “It looks like we have time today to take a question from our studio audience. Yes — you there, in the lavender dress.”
A woman stood up, beaming. “Yes, hello, my name is Edna Flattistein and I’m from China Lake? I just want to say, I love the show, and I especially loved what you said about being grateful for food, and I just wondered if you have a favorite grace you recite before each meal, to thank our Lord and Savior for the bounty! I’d love to hear it! Thank you!”
Elizabeth shielded her eyes as if to get a better look at Edna. “Hello, Edna,” she said, “and thanks for your question. The answer is no; I don’t have a favorite grace. In fact, I don’t say grace at all.”
Standing in the office, both Walter and Harriet paled.
“Please,” Walter whispered. “Don’t say it.”
“Because I’m an atheist,” Elizabeth said matter-of-factly.
“Thar she blows,” Harriet said.
“In other words, I don’t believe in God,” added Elizabeth as the audience gasped.
“Wait. Is that rare?” Madeline piped up. “Is not believing in God one of those rare things?”
“But I do believe in the people who made the food possible,” Elizabeth continued. “The farmers, the pickers, the truckers, the grocery store shelf stockers. But most of all, I believe in you, Edna. Because you made the meal that nourishes your family. Because of you, a new generation flourishes. Because of you, others live.”
She paused, checking the clock, then turned directly to the camera. “That’s all we have time for today. I hope you’ll join me tomorrow as we explore the fascinating world of temperature and how it affects flavor.” Then she cocked her head slightly to the left, almost as if she were considering whether she’d gone too far or not far enough. “Children, set the table,” she said with extra resolution. “Your mother needs a moment to herself.”
And within a few seconds, Walter’s phone began to ring and did not stop.
Chapter 33
Faith
In 1960, people did not go on television and say they didn’t believe in God and expect to be on television much longer. As proof, Walter’s phone was soon filled with threats from sponsors and viewers who wanted Elizabeth Zott fired, jailed, and/or stoned to death. The latter came from self-proclaimed people of God — the same God that preached tolerance and forgiveness.
“Goddammit, Elizabeth,” Walter said, having slipped Harriet and Madeline out the side door ten minutes earlier. “Some things are just better left unsaid!” They were sitting in Elizabeth’s dressing room, her yellow-checked apron still wound firmly around her narrow waist. “You have every right to believe what you want to believe, but you shouldn’t force your belief on others, especially not on national television.”
“How did I force my belief on others?” she asked, surprised.
“You know what I mean.”
“Edna Flattistein asked me a direct question and I answered it. I’m glad she feels she can express her belief in God and I welcome her right to do so. But I should be extended the same courtesy. Plenty of people don’t believe in God. Some believe in astrology or tarot cards. Harriet believes if you blow on dice, you’ll get better numbers at Yahtzee.”
“I think we both know,” Walter said through gritted teeth, “that God is just a bit different from Yahtzee.”
“Agreed,” Elizabeth said. “Yahtzee is fun.”
“We’re going to pay for this,” Walter warned.
“Come on, Walter,” she said. “Have a little faith.”
—
Faith — that was supposed to be Reverend Wakely’s area of expertise, but today he was having trouble finding his. After spending hours consoling a whiney congregant who blamed everyone for everything, he returned to his office, wanting to be alone. But instead, he found his part-time typist, Miss Frask, at his desk, using his typewriter, plodding along at thirty words per minute, her eyes glued to his office’s television set.
“Take a good look at this tomato,” he heard a vaguely familiar-looking woman on the television say, a pencil sticking out from behind her head. “You might not believe you have anything in common with this fruit, but you do. DNA. Up to sixty percent. Now turn and look at the person next to you. Does she look familiar? She may or may not. Still, you and she share even more: ninety-nine point nine percent of your DNA — as you each do with every other human on earth.” She set the tomato down and held up a photograph of Rosa Parks. “That’s why I stand with our leaders of the civil rights movement, including the very brave Rosa Parks. Discrimination based on skin color is not only scientifically ludicrous, it’s also a sign of profound ignorance.”
“Miss Frask?” Wakely said.
“Hold on, Rev,” she said, holding up a finger. “It’s almost over. Here’s your sermon.” She yanked a sheet out of the typewriter.
“One would think the ignorant would die off sooner,” Elizabeth continued. “But Darwin overlooked the fact that the ignorant rarely forget to eat.”
“What is this?”
“Supper at Six. You’ve never heard of Supper at Six?”
“I have time for a question,” Elizabeth was saying, “Yes, you there in the—”
“Hello, my name is Francine Luftson and I’m from San Diego! And I just want to say, I’m such a fan even if you don’t believe in God! I was just wondering: Is there some sort of diet you recommend? I know I need to lose weight, but I really don’t want to feel hungry. I do take diet pills every day. Thank you!”
“Thanks, Francine,” Elizabeth said. “But I can clearly see that you are not overweight. Therefore, I have to assume you’ve been unduly influenced by the relentless imagery of the too-thin women that now fill our magazines, destroying your morale and submerging your self-worth. Instead of dieting and taking pills—” She paused. “Can I ask?” she said. “How many people in this audience take diet pills?”
A few nervous hands went up.
Elizabeth waited.
Most of the other hands went up.
“Stop taking those pills,” she demanded. “They’re amphetamines. They can lead to psychosis.”
“But I don’t like to exercise,” Francine said.
“Maybe you haven’t found the right exercise.”
“I watch Jack LaLanne.”
At the mention of Jack’s name, Elizabeth closed her eyes. “What about rowing?” she said, suddenly tired.
“Rowing?”
“Rowing,” she repeated, opening her eyes. “It’s a brutal form of recreation designed to test every muscle in your body and mind. It takes place before dawn, too often in the rain. It results in thick calluses. It broadens the arms, chest, and thighs. Ribs crack; hands blister. Rowers sometimes ask themselves, ‘Why am I doing this?’ ”
“Jeepers,” Francine said, worried. “Rowing sounds awful!”
Elizabeth looked confused. “My point is rowing precludes the need for both diet and pills. It’s also good for your soul.”
“But I thought you didn’t believe in souls.”
Elizabeth sighed. She closed her eyes again. Calvin. Are you actually saying women can’t row?
—
“I used to work with her,” Frask said, switching off the television. “At Hastings, until we both got fired. Seriously — you’ve never heard of her? Elizabeth Zott. She’s syndicated.”