Imagining Ann DOES have someone to talk with about Loomis (1)
Posted August 4, 2011 at Teachnology
Ann's thoughts about the hand-holding incident also suggest a potentially very useful imaginative exercise. When Ann reflects, “It’s different when there’s no one to turn to or tell about it” (161), it
can remind readers to consider how differently WE would think of Ann’s views if the situation were normal and she were telling us the same things. Ann is considering how SHE would think differently about Loomis holding her hand if her parents were there, or if she were talking about it with school friends as something that happened on a date. She wouldn’t be afraid of Loomis then.
The situation that they are alone in the world does NOT change the actual nature of what happens or what Loomis says and does; it changes how Ann FEELS about it. So if we imagine how WE would think differently about Ann’s ideas in a normal situation, doesn’t she seem a bit of a drama queen? One can imagine being a friend asking Ann about having a guest in her house.
A: “The way he held my hand, I just KNEW he wanted to make me his slave!”
F: “Why didn’t you just tell him to leave your house then?”
A: “Well, he’s been very sick and still needs me to look after him.”
F: “I see. That’s nice of you. Why are you looking after him in the first place?”
A: “I feel a bit responsible. He’s a boarder, and I didn’t tell him about the radioactive stream near the property. I could’ve warned him about swimming in it.”
F: “Why didn’t you?”
A: “I was hiding in the hills then and didn’t want him to see me.”
F: “Why would you do that?”
A: “I thought it was the safest thing to do, of course. He was a total stranger. He could’ve been a murderer or tried to make me his slave.
F: “Oh. You’d better put a sign up near that stream. He could sue you, y’know!”
A: “It’s okay. He was really nice about it and said it was his own fault for not checking the water was safe.”
F: “That’s pretty forgiving of him. He doesn’t sound so bad.”
A: “Actually, he’s quite handsome, too. When I first saw him through binoculars, I thought he had a kind of wild and poetic look. He had long hair and a beard then.”
F: “Sounds like a drifter or a hippie. He’s not a bum, is he?”
A: “Oh, no! He’s a really successful scientist! He graduated from Cornell, and he was working with a famous professor who won a Nobel Prize.”
F: “Wow. That’s surprising. And he’s good-looking, too?”
A: “Yes. His nose is a bit big, but I think he’s quite attractive. Actually, I was thinking there’s no reason we couldn’t get married next year and have kids.”
F: “Are you kidding? Hang on. Didn’t you say--?”
A: “I could wear my mother’s wedding dress, and I’ve already decided to have apple blossoms in the church. I made a bouquet of them for Mr. Loomis’s room.”
F: “Uh huh. And, um, have you talked about this with him yet?”
A: “Well, no. Not yet. It’s much too soon, of course, and he’s been sick.”
F: “I see. Does he seem interested in YOU?”
A: “Well, he doesn’t seem to notice when I dress up. But when I was playing piano for him one night, he said it was the best evening he ever had!”
F: “That sounds good. What did YOU say?”
A: “I asked him if he just meant since coming to the valley.”
F: “Why would you think that? Obviously that’s not what he meant!”
A: ”Well,... I don’t know. And then he got a bit angry, so I almost ran away again.”
F: “Hmmm. What else did you do together?”
A: “Well, we had a lovely romantic dinner—except I had to use oil lamps instead of candles, which I’d taken to the cave when I was hiding from him. It felt very festive, like a Christmas dinner with family. And he asked to go fishing with me, so we went for a nice walk to the pond. I was going to show him how to fish, but then he got sick and we had to come home.”
F: “Uh huh. Was he very sick then?”
A: “Oh, yes. He almost died. I had to care for him in bed, feeding him, washing him, and changing his clothes. He was too weak to do anything for himself. When he was sickest and had almost no pulse, I held his hand for hours so he’d know I was there.”
F: “But he’s recovered all right now?”
A: “Yes, he’s getting his strength back. I felt like hugging him the first time he spoke again. He said he’d heard me playing the piano for him while he was sick.”
F: “You seem to care about him a lot.”
A: “Well, yes, I do. I was so frightened he was going to die. Sometimes I went to church to pray for him when I didn’t know what else to do. Maybe it helped.”
F: “So why are you afraid of him now?”
A: “I don’t know. I just feel uneasy. He got a bit angry a couple of times because he was really worried about food and I hadn’t planted some crops.”
F: “Should you have?”
A: “Well, yes. He’s right that it’s important, and I was kind of shortsighted about the wheat and beets. We need to harvest seeds.”
F: “Is there anything else that bothers you?”
A: “Well, he also got angry when I wanted to borrow a special suit of his, which he thinks is very important and doesn’t trust me with.”
F: “Did you know he thinks of it that way?”
A: “Sure. When he was sick he had nightmares about someone taking it.”
F: “Oh. But you asked to borrow it anyway?”
A: “And his nightmares bother me also! I think he killed someone. Maybe it was self-defense, but he might be a murderer just like I thought from the start.”
F: “Why would he have killed someone?”
A: “Well, his coworker Edward tried to take the special suit. And if he did, then Mr. Loomis would
have died.”
F: “It sounds like it might’ve been self-defense then.”
A: “Yeah, but I think maybe Edward was a nice person and would’ve brought the suit back.”
F: “But your friend couldn’t know that. And you can’t know, either.”
A: “Well, it also makes me nervous when he talks about the farm like it’s his also, and he says we have to plan to start a family.”
F: “Really? But isn’t that what you wanted?”
A: “Well, it’s the WAY he talks about it. And the way he held my hand, I just KNOW it’s not the same as when I held his. It feels like he’s trying to take control of me and make me his slave.”
F: “You’re sixteen now, right?”
A: “Yeah. I just had a birthday. Mr. Loomis started recovering that day, so we had my birthday dinner on a card table beside his bed with silverware and candles. He thought it was like a miracle.”
F: “Have you ever dated anyone before?”
A: “Sure. Do you mean boyfriends in school, or dates outside of school?”
F: “Um, outside of school.”
A: “Well, I had a date once when I was thirteen. Howard Peterson asked me to a school dance. Mother drove me and stayed the whole time to make sure I was safe.”
F: “Why do you think of that as a date?”
A: “Howard paid for the tickets.”
F: “Okay. So you were never alone before with a boy, holding hands?”
A: “No. Except for Mr. Loomis when he was sick. But that was different. There’s a telepathy about these things. When he did it, it felt possessive.”
F: “I see. But you were both conscious when HE did it.”
A: “So? It FELT different.”
F: “Sure it did. He could actually hear you and talk with you. What did he say?”
A: “It was creepy. He held my hand firmly and wanted to know why I asked him if he’d been married before.”
F: “Why did you ask him that?”
A: “I was just trying to get to know him better.”
F: “Like you would with a man on a date?
A: “Maybe. Like in the movies, when people first meet.”
F: “Were you still thinking about a future with him, marrying him?”
A: “I suppose so. I thought I didn’t know him at all, and we couldn’t go on being like strangers.”
F: “So he hadn’t told you ANYTHING about himself by then?!”
A: “Well, no. Actually, he had already told me about his studies and work, and about the time after the war. And I knew he liked listening to piano music, and he didn’t know how to fish.”
F: “Okay. So you told him you wanted to know him better?”
A: “No. I just said I was interested.”
F: “Why didn’t you tell him the truth?”
A: “I felt embarrassed when he held my hand. And afraid.”
F: “Why embarrassed?””
A: “Because my hands were hard from working, and his were soft.”
F: “You thought hard hands were unattractive?”
A: “Well—”
F: “Did you ever try to look nice for him? Didn’t you say you dressed up?”
A: “Yes. I didn’t like him to see me when I was dirty from farm work, and sometimes I dressed up a bit.”
F: “So he probably knew you wanted to be attractive to him?”
A: “Maybe. I don’t know.”
F: “Did you tell him you wanted to get married? You said you couldn’t tell him at first because he was
sick.”
A: “No. I couldn’t do it after he got better, either. I didn’t really know him enough, and I was feeling uneasy with him.”
F: “Right. Because he was trying to take control of things and...make you a slave?”
A: “Yes.”
F: “By telling you things that were important to do which you hadn’t done?”
A: “Yes. But it was the WAY he told me, I guess. He was impatient and angry.”
F: “Didn’t you also know things about him just from spending time with him?”
A: “I guess so. He’s usually pretty calm and reasonable, especially about his sickness. If it were me, I would’ve been hysterical! And he’s good at working with machinery.”
F: “How so?”
A: “He told me how to use a hand pump to get gas for the tractor, and he’s designing a water-powered
generator now so we can have a fridge again and lights.”
F: “Wow. Sounds like a handy guy to have around.”
A: “Yes. It’s just that—“
F: “I know—he’s impatient and angry with you sometimes. Does he seem mean?”
A: “No, not exactly. He seemed friendly at first. But he’s so serious now, and he seems cold. I felt like clapping when he learned to walk again—it was so exciting. But he didn’t tell me about it, or show any feeling when I asked.”
F: “What did he say when you asked?”
A: “He just said it was something he had to do.”
F: “Well, he seems very practical. Maybe he’s just preoccupied. You said he’s designing a generator and worrying a lot about food.”
A: “I don’t know. Then there’s the coworker he killed.”
F: “But you said it could’ve been self-defense. If you think it’s so important and you want to know about
his character, why don’t you ask him about it?”
A: “Oh, I couldn’t do that!”
F: “Why not? You can’t know more about it unless you ask. Y’know, you’ve got to get over this problem you have with expressing your feelings—except in your diary.”
A: “What problem?”
F: “Well, you want to marry him, but you won’t tell him you like him. When he holds your hand and asks why you want to know him better, you say you’re ‘just interested.’ You admit he’s right to blame you for neglecting farm work; you just don’t like the angry WAY he tells you. But you don’t TELL him it bothers you. And you worry he killed someone wrongly, but it could’ve been self-defense and you won’t ask him
so he can explain his side of things.”
A: “Well, what if he’s a murderer? He...he might kill me, too.”
F: “Sure. Why would he want to kill you? You said someone was trying to take his special suit. You’re not planning to steal it, are you?”
A: “No. But he might enslave me.”
F: “Come on. The guy’s a Cornell-educated scientist who worked for a Nobel winner. He can’t give you the time of day because he’s too busy designing a generator. The only times he gets angry are when you neglect work that’s important for both of you. And he didn’t get angry at all for letting him swim in a radioactive stream that nearly killed him! He doesn’t sound to me like the enslaving type. The most he’s ever done is hold your hand and ask you to tell him your feelings!”
A: “Well, he was sick before. I don’t know. I just feel uneasy.”
F: “Look. You can’t know EVERYTHING about someone, and you don’t have to. You should know enough just by spending time with him. You say he’s attractive and friendly. He’s obviously smart and helpful to have around. He’s usually calm and reasonable, and he doesn’t hold a grudge even when you nearly get him killed!
A: “But that wasn’t just MY fault.”
F: “Still, you could’ve warned him, and you DIDN’T. Why? You were afraid he’d enslave you? Is that your first assumption about men you meet?!”
A: “It sounds like YOU want to marry him!”
F: “Maybe I would. He sounds like a good catch.”
A: “So what do you think I should do?”
F: “Talk to him. Be honest about how you feel and what you want. Then he’ll probably open up to you, too. My guess is that he wants to talk, and he’s getting impatient waiting for you to be ready.”
A: “Maybe. But what if you’re wrong?”
F: “The only to find out is by talking with him and giving it a shot.”
A: “What if he doesn’t want a wedding?”
F: “They’re overrated anyway. But if it’s really important to you, he’ll probably put up with it.”
A: “Shouldn’t HE be the one who proposes?”
F: “I think feminism took us beyond that custom. Anyway, didn’t he already say you should think of starting a family, and ask you directly to tell him your feelings?”
A: “Well, he spoke of starting a ‘colony,’ like we were ants or something.”
F: “Okay, so he’s not a romantic. You should make up your mind what you want. If you’re at all interested in a relationship, talk and clear up the issues that are bothering you. If you’re NOT interested, tell him to move out.”
A: “Okay, I’ll think about it. Maybe you’re right.”
F: “But don’t wait too long. It’s not good to brood about unfounded worries or let misunderstandings
continue. It could create more problems.”
A: “Okay. Thanks. It helps to have someone to talk with about things.”
can remind readers to consider how differently WE would think of Ann’s views if the situation were normal and she were telling us the same things. Ann is considering how SHE would think differently about Loomis holding her hand if her parents were there, or if she were talking about it with school friends as something that happened on a date. She wouldn’t be afraid of Loomis then.
The situation that they are alone in the world does NOT change the actual nature of what happens or what Loomis says and does; it changes how Ann FEELS about it. So if we imagine how WE would think differently about Ann’s ideas in a normal situation, doesn’t she seem a bit of a drama queen? One can imagine being a friend asking Ann about having a guest in her house.
A: “The way he held my hand, I just KNEW he wanted to make me his slave!”
F: “Why didn’t you just tell him to leave your house then?”
A: “Well, he’s been very sick and still needs me to look after him.”
F: “I see. That’s nice of you. Why are you looking after him in the first place?”
A: “I feel a bit responsible. He’s a boarder, and I didn’t tell him about the radioactive stream near the property. I could’ve warned him about swimming in it.”
F: “Why didn’t you?”
A: “I was hiding in the hills then and didn’t want him to see me.”
F: “Why would you do that?”
A: “I thought it was the safest thing to do, of course. He was a total stranger. He could’ve been a murderer or tried to make me his slave.
F: “Oh. You’d better put a sign up near that stream. He could sue you, y’know!”
A: “It’s okay. He was really nice about it and said it was his own fault for not checking the water was safe.”
F: “That’s pretty forgiving of him. He doesn’t sound so bad.”
A: “Actually, he’s quite handsome, too. When I first saw him through binoculars, I thought he had a kind of wild and poetic look. He had long hair and a beard then.”
F: “Sounds like a drifter or a hippie. He’s not a bum, is he?”
A: “Oh, no! He’s a really successful scientist! He graduated from Cornell, and he was working with a famous professor who won a Nobel Prize.”
F: “Wow. That’s surprising. And he’s good-looking, too?”
A: “Yes. His nose is a bit big, but I think he’s quite attractive. Actually, I was thinking there’s no reason we couldn’t get married next year and have kids.”
F: “Are you kidding? Hang on. Didn’t you say--?”
A: “I could wear my mother’s wedding dress, and I’ve already decided to have apple blossoms in the church. I made a bouquet of them for Mr. Loomis’s room.”
F: “Uh huh. And, um, have you talked about this with him yet?”
A: “Well, no. Not yet. It’s much too soon, of course, and he’s been sick.”
F: “I see. Does he seem interested in YOU?”
A: “Well, he doesn’t seem to notice when I dress up. But when I was playing piano for him one night, he said it was the best evening he ever had!”
F: “That sounds good. What did YOU say?”
A: “I asked him if he just meant since coming to the valley.”
F: “Why would you think that? Obviously that’s not what he meant!”
A: ”Well,... I don’t know. And then he got a bit angry, so I almost ran away again.”
F: “Hmmm. What else did you do together?”
A: “Well, we had a lovely romantic dinner—except I had to use oil lamps instead of candles, which I’d taken to the cave when I was hiding from him. It felt very festive, like a Christmas dinner with family. And he asked to go fishing with me, so we went for a nice walk to the pond. I was going to show him how to fish, but then he got sick and we had to come home.”
F: “Uh huh. Was he very sick then?”
A: “Oh, yes. He almost died. I had to care for him in bed, feeding him, washing him, and changing his clothes. He was too weak to do anything for himself. When he was sickest and had almost no pulse, I held his hand for hours so he’d know I was there.”
F: “But he’s recovered all right now?”
A: “Yes, he’s getting his strength back. I felt like hugging him the first time he spoke again. He said he’d heard me playing the piano for him while he was sick.”
F: “You seem to care about him a lot.”
A: “Well, yes, I do. I was so frightened he was going to die. Sometimes I went to church to pray for him when I didn’t know what else to do. Maybe it helped.”
F: “So why are you afraid of him now?”
A: “I don’t know. I just feel uneasy. He got a bit angry a couple of times because he was really worried about food and I hadn’t planted some crops.”
F: “Should you have?”
A: “Well, yes. He’s right that it’s important, and I was kind of shortsighted about the wheat and beets. We need to harvest seeds.”
F: “Is there anything else that bothers you?”
A: “Well, he also got angry when I wanted to borrow a special suit of his, which he thinks is very important and doesn’t trust me with.”
F: “Did you know he thinks of it that way?”
A: “Sure. When he was sick he had nightmares about someone taking it.”
F: “Oh. But you asked to borrow it anyway?”
A: “And his nightmares bother me also! I think he killed someone. Maybe it was self-defense, but he might be a murderer just like I thought from the start.”
F: “Why would he have killed someone?”
A: “Well, his coworker Edward tried to take the special suit. And if he did, then Mr. Loomis would
have died.”
F: “It sounds like it might’ve been self-defense then.”
A: “Yeah, but I think maybe Edward was a nice person and would’ve brought the suit back.”
F: “But your friend couldn’t know that. And you can’t know, either.”
A: “Well, it also makes me nervous when he talks about the farm like it’s his also, and he says we have to plan to start a family.”
F: “Really? But isn’t that what you wanted?”
A: “Well, it’s the WAY he talks about it. And the way he held my hand, I just KNOW it’s not the same as when I held his. It feels like he’s trying to take control of me and make me his slave.”
F: “You’re sixteen now, right?”
A: “Yeah. I just had a birthday. Mr. Loomis started recovering that day, so we had my birthday dinner on a card table beside his bed with silverware and candles. He thought it was like a miracle.”
F: “Have you ever dated anyone before?”
A: “Sure. Do you mean boyfriends in school, or dates outside of school?”
F: “Um, outside of school.”
A: “Well, I had a date once when I was thirteen. Howard Peterson asked me to a school dance. Mother drove me and stayed the whole time to make sure I was safe.”
F: “Why do you think of that as a date?”
A: “Howard paid for the tickets.”
F: “Okay. So you were never alone before with a boy, holding hands?”
A: “No. Except for Mr. Loomis when he was sick. But that was different. There’s a telepathy about these things. When he did it, it felt possessive.”
F: “I see. But you were both conscious when HE did it.”
A: “So? It FELT different.”
F: “Sure it did. He could actually hear you and talk with you. What did he say?”
A: “It was creepy. He held my hand firmly and wanted to know why I asked him if he’d been married before.”
F: “Why did you ask him that?”
A: “I was just trying to get to know him better.”
F: “Like you would with a man on a date?
A: “Maybe. Like in the movies, when people first meet.”
F: “Were you still thinking about a future with him, marrying him?”
A: “I suppose so. I thought I didn’t know him at all, and we couldn’t go on being like strangers.”
F: “So he hadn’t told you ANYTHING about himself by then?!”
A: “Well, no. Actually, he had already told me about his studies and work, and about the time after the war. And I knew he liked listening to piano music, and he didn’t know how to fish.”
F: “Okay. So you told him you wanted to know him better?”
A: “No. I just said I was interested.”
F: “Why didn’t you tell him the truth?”
A: “I felt embarrassed when he held my hand. And afraid.”
F: “Why embarrassed?””
A: “Because my hands were hard from working, and his were soft.”
F: “You thought hard hands were unattractive?”
A: “Well—”
F: “Did you ever try to look nice for him? Didn’t you say you dressed up?”
A: “Yes. I didn’t like him to see me when I was dirty from farm work, and sometimes I dressed up a bit.”
F: “So he probably knew you wanted to be attractive to him?”
A: “Maybe. I don’t know.”
F: “Did you tell him you wanted to get married? You said you couldn’t tell him at first because he was
sick.”
A: “No. I couldn’t do it after he got better, either. I didn’t really know him enough, and I was feeling uneasy with him.”
F: “Right. Because he was trying to take control of things and...make you a slave?”
A: “Yes.”
F: “By telling you things that were important to do which you hadn’t done?”
A: “Yes. But it was the WAY he told me, I guess. He was impatient and angry.”
F: “Didn’t you also know things about him just from spending time with him?”
A: “I guess so. He’s usually pretty calm and reasonable, especially about his sickness. If it were me, I would’ve been hysterical! And he’s good at working with machinery.”
F: “How so?”
A: “He told me how to use a hand pump to get gas for the tractor, and he’s designing a water-powered
generator now so we can have a fridge again and lights.”
F: “Wow. Sounds like a handy guy to have around.”
A: “Yes. It’s just that—“
F: “I know—he’s impatient and angry with you sometimes. Does he seem mean?”
A: “No, not exactly. He seemed friendly at first. But he’s so serious now, and he seems cold. I felt like clapping when he learned to walk again—it was so exciting. But he didn’t tell me about it, or show any feeling when I asked.”
F: “What did he say when you asked?”
A: “He just said it was something he had to do.”
F: “Well, he seems very practical. Maybe he’s just preoccupied. You said he’s designing a generator and worrying a lot about food.”
A: “I don’t know. Then there’s the coworker he killed.”
F: “But you said it could’ve been self-defense. If you think it’s so important and you want to know about
his character, why don’t you ask him about it?”
A: “Oh, I couldn’t do that!”
F: “Why not? You can’t know more about it unless you ask. Y’know, you’ve got to get over this problem you have with expressing your feelings—except in your diary.”
A: “What problem?”
F: “Well, you want to marry him, but you won’t tell him you like him. When he holds your hand and asks why you want to know him better, you say you’re ‘just interested.’ You admit he’s right to blame you for neglecting farm work; you just don’t like the angry WAY he tells you. But you don’t TELL him it bothers you. And you worry he killed someone wrongly, but it could’ve been self-defense and you won’t ask him
so he can explain his side of things.”
A: “Well, what if he’s a murderer? He...he might kill me, too.”
F: “Sure. Why would he want to kill you? You said someone was trying to take his special suit. You’re not planning to steal it, are you?”
A: “No. But he might enslave me.”
F: “Come on. The guy’s a Cornell-educated scientist who worked for a Nobel winner. He can’t give you the time of day because he’s too busy designing a generator. The only times he gets angry are when you neglect work that’s important for both of you. And he didn’t get angry at all for letting him swim in a radioactive stream that nearly killed him! He doesn’t sound to me like the enslaving type. The most he’s ever done is hold your hand and ask you to tell him your feelings!”
A: “Well, he was sick before. I don’t know. I just feel uneasy.”
F: “Look. You can’t know EVERYTHING about someone, and you don’t have to. You should know enough just by spending time with him. You say he’s attractive and friendly. He’s obviously smart and helpful to have around. He’s usually calm and reasonable, and he doesn’t hold a grudge even when you nearly get him killed!
A: “But that wasn’t just MY fault.”
F: “Still, you could’ve warned him, and you DIDN’T. Why? You were afraid he’d enslave you? Is that your first assumption about men you meet?!”
A: “It sounds like YOU want to marry him!”
F: “Maybe I would. He sounds like a good catch.”
A: “So what do you think I should do?”
F: “Talk to him. Be honest about how you feel and what you want. Then he’ll probably open up to you, too. My guess is that he wants to talk, and he’s getting impatient waiting for you to be ready.”
A: “Maybe. But what if you’re wrong?”
F: “The only to find out is by talking with him and giving it a shot.”
A: “What if he doesn’t want a wedding?”
F: “They’re overrated anyway. But if it’s really important to you, he’ll probably put up with it.”
A: “Shouldn’t HE be the one who proposes?”
F: “I think feminism took us beyond that custom. Anyway, didn’t he already say you should think of starting a family, and ask you directly to tell him your feelings?”
A: “Well, he spoke of starting a ‘colony,’ like we were ants or something.”
F: “Okay, so he’s not a romantic. You should make up your mind what you want. If you’re at all interested in a relationship, talk and clear up the issues that are bothering you. If you’re NOT interested, tell him to move out.”
A: “Okay, I’ll think about it. Maybe you’re right.”
F: “But don’t wait too long. It’s not good to brood about unfounded worries or let misunderstandings
continue. It could create more problems.”
A: “Okay. Thanks. It helps to have someone to talk with about things.”