The Adventures Of Bette Porter And Sissee Gardner After Yale (Part 5, Chapter 6)

PART FIVE: PHILLIPS, WISCONSIN

Chapter 6

I told Bette the truth about what happened to Howie and I on our trip to Phillips, as I sat on the floor, leaning against the kitchen wall, shivering by then for two reasons. One – because of the December cold outside that was wafting through the walls of my parents old house and two – because of the anticipation of her response, as my story unfolded.

I started with the Jack Daniels we drank at LAX.

“Since when do you drink that amber stuff?” she wanted to know, right off the bat.

“I mixed it in a coke,” I told her. “I had a few of them to relax.”

“Did it help?”

“Well, I was uptight with him because of what you and I talked about before I left. I didn’t want to give him any signs of encouragement so once we got airborne, I just sat by the window and watched you and me dance in the clouds.”

“That’s a nice vision.” I could see her suddenly smiling.

“Oh, you were with me all the way, Bette.”

I continued my story as she listened without interrupting. She occasionally muttered an expletive when I explained the snowbound peril we found ourselves in.

When I told her we continued to drink the whiskey straight from the bottle in our stranded car, she got very upset, asking me, “What the hell were you thinking, Sissee?”

“All I know is that it felt warm going down,” I offered, lamely.

“You must have been sleeping during Hart’s class at Yale on life threatening situations, when he talked about hypothermia. Alcohol is a vasodilator that increases peripheral heat loss and that dickhead should have known better, too.”

Then I told her that when we ran out of gas and had to go into the back seat to keep each other warm, I was powerless. I reminded her that I was weak with hunger, numb from booze and chilled to the bone even when the heater was running. I did not even have the strength to crawl in the back so Howie tried to help me and the next thing I knew he was kissing me.