Altered States Page #2

Not since I was 16.

Were your parents religious?

Anything but.

My father was an aeronautical engineer.

My mother, a clinical psychologist.

What happened?

I mean, how did a little kid who saw

visions of Christ turn into a physiologist...

...teaching at the Cornell Medical College?

- L stopped believing.

It was very dramatic.

My father died a protracted

and painful death of cancer.

I was 16 years old

and very fond of my father.

I used to race to the hospital

every day after school...

...and sit in his room doing my homework.

He was very heavily sedated.

The last few weeks he was in coma.

One day l thought

I heard him say something.

I got up and leaned over him...

...my ear an inch away from his lips.

"Did you say something, Pop?"

Then l heard the word he was desperately

trying to say, a soft hiss of a word.

He was saying:

"Terrible."

"Terrible."

So the end was terrible,

even for the good people like my father.

So the purpose of all our suffering

was just more suffering.

By dinnertime, l had dispensed with God

altogether. I never saw another vision.

I haven't told anybody

about this in 10 years.

I'm telling you now

because l want you to know...

...what sort of a nut

you might be getting mixed up with.

Arthur was right.

You are a fascinating bastard.

Dad! Dad! Dad!

- Hi.

- Hi.

Well, it's settled.

Metcalfe spoke to Spencer this morning

and it's definite. The job's mine.

I'll be in Nairobi doing

my post-doc work July and August.

And in September,

I'll be teaching at Harvard.

Terrific.

So looks like we'll both be teaching

at Harvard in September.

Looks that way.

Well, you can't get any tidier

than that, can you?

We're gonna be together in Boston,

and l think we should get married.

You know, of course,

I'm supposed to be a little bit nuts.

A little bit?

You're an unmitigated madman.

You don't have to tell me how weird

you are. I know how weird you are.

I'm the girl in your bed

the past two months.

Even sex is a mystical experience

for you. You carry on like a flagellant...

...which can be very nice, but l sometimes

wonder if it's me that's being made love to.

I feel like I'm being harpooned by some

raging monk in the act of receiving God.

And you are a Faust-freak, Eddie.

You'd sell your soul

to find the great truth.

Well, human life

doesn't have great truths.

We're born in doubt. We spend our lives

persuading ourselves we're alive.

And one way we do that is

we love each other, like I love you.

I can't imagine living without you.

So let's get married, and if it turns out

to be a disaster, it'll be a disaster.

We'll shake hands and say good-bye.

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