Carmelo asked me if it was ever okay to
not reject the advances of a married suitor.
Huh?
He asked again.
I thought about it
“Nope,” I answered, “ it is never
okay to help someone cheat. And anyway I'm married so it would be
doubly bad.
“Why?”
“Because I go home to a house that is
warm in the winter, cool in the summer, the refrigerator is full and
the mortgage paid, and I'm not about to risk all that. And anyway,”
I asked, “why do you want to know?”
It was for his English homework, a set
of preview questions before the senior class began reading the Tales
of King Arthur.
I went home to the paid up house.
In 1976 I was an assistant teacher at
preschool, the head teacher taught me how to be a non-sexist educator,
how to make a wrong answer sound right ( What's red and round and
grows on an apple tree, orange you say, yes an orange is also a
fruit), and if you survive the week, Friday night is a night for
beverages that don't come in
collapsible pouches.
So,
last Friday night, she and I polished off a couple of bottles of good wine and I told her the story.
Maybe
it was all the wine, but her summation- my response did not make
monogamous marriage sound like the most romantic thing in the whole
world.
Perhaps,
I needed something stronger in my cup than the coffee from the
teacher's room when Carmelo asked me the question at 9:30 in the
morning.
So
what does cheating have to do with King Arthur?
The
love of my life returned to the room with more wine, he and my old
mentor both recalled that Sir Lancelot has a thing for Guinevere, King Arthur's wife.
How
does this medieval soap opera play out?
I
might never find out. Carmelo's group was taken out of my program.
But, thankfully, good friends and faithful husbands remain.
(good wine, as well)
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