Clifford's Spiral: Chapter 11 (concludes)

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In Clifford's Spiral, the stroke survivor’s past is blurry, and his memories are in pieces. He asks himself:

Who was Clifford Olmstead Klovis?

Stroke sufferer Clifford Klovis tries to piece together the colorful fragments of his memories. Had he read those letters all wrong?

Chapter 11 (concludes)

Considering it all from Jeremy’s perspective, Natalie seemed at least confused emotionally — much more confused than Clifford remembered. When Clifford had read her letters the first time, when he was still in Paris, he was an inexperienced young man (and untested lover) whose immature ego assumed this woman was crazy about him. He expected their relationship was his to resume or to end on his return. As to his own roommates, their antics and annoyances might have seemed consequential back in the day, but he’d never stayed in touch with any of them. Living with Judith could hardly be the worst experience of Natalie’s young life. Her worries seemed ridiculous. Analyzing those texts now, as Jeremy insisted on doing, pulled those experiences into the adult realm, where love triangles can easily form in various permutations and combinations, and where jealousies have years and even lifetimes to become entangled.

Natalie’s medical condition was a confounding complication. Back then, Clifford had made his decision based mostly on what she’d told him about her prognosis. He didn’t doubt its reality, but now he wondered whether she’d been using her health as an excuse to avoid intimacy with him. Maybe she didn’t yet know whose lover she wanted to be, or in what role.

Jeremy continued reading, saying, “To confuse matters, she adds this bit at the end… ”

Olmstead the Corpse of a Cactus has come back to life. He sat patiently on the windowsill all winter, mostly because I was too lazy to toss him in the trash. In the last two days, he has miraculously broken out in little sprouts (?) buds (?) appendages (?) babies (?) tiny green things (?). My treatment plan for this successful outcome? Tender loving neglect!

I realize I haven’t talked of politics in a while, and I fear if I do at this point I’ll go on for pages, in which case this letter will need an extra unaffordable stamp. Suffice it to say, things are getting more and more interesting and complicated, and I do wish I’d been born a year sooner so I could vote this fall.

By the way, I’m thinking of letting my hair grow long. Not as convenient, but maybe sexier?

Hoping you’ll Get Clean for Gene,

N. B.

Jeremy said, “I know identifying you with the cactus seems silly, but I think it’s her way of saying you’re still in the game. You’re on the bench with a wounded pitching arm, but she hasn’t thrown you off the team. Again, she seems undecided — about a lot of things.” Then he added, “Oh, and I did a search on Get Clean for Gene. I didn’t know it was about Eugene McCarthy’s presidential campaign. The idea was to ask grungy hippies to get baths and haircuts so they could show up at the polls as respectable Democrats. It all happened after LBJ’s resignation — which took place on the very day of this letter. This was all before the Democratic National Convention in August, which disappointed just about everybody by nominating Hubert Horatio Humphrey. You knew the history, but I didn’t. There’s lots of backstory between these lines.”

Yes, after Johnson threw in the towel, Clifford and his classmates thought the war would soon be over. Wishful thinking.

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