Editing The Quiz (section)

== Chapter 4 ==
Victor didn’t attend Violet’s funeral. Indeed,  I didn’t see him for another month. But it can’t be said that he didn’t grieve. He wore black clothes in faithful mourning.

I wished that he would feel at least a little guilty about Violet’s death. I mean, it wasn’t his fault. But what if he had just been a little less tactless about breaking the news to Gina? Or if he had gently turned away her affection instead of lightly rejecting it? I felt that Gina’s act had been at least partly his fault, and would have liked to see some remorse on his part.

But he didn’t seem to think he had any hand in her action. He grieved, and after a few months, took off his black clothes and returned to normal life, which for him consisted of walking the streets aimlessly, as Avery said. It was sad to see him walking alone, when at one point he had been laughing and chatting with Violet.

But as time went on, I thought a new girl was replacing the fading shadow…one that we knew very well. Janet.

I think she had loved Victor from the first day she saw him. Poor Janet! She had followed him about devotedly, but when he turned to Violet, she had simply cut off the flowers of her love without harming the root, and now that her friend was gone, it bloomed once more.

That’s not to say that Janet was any way happy about Violet’s death. But there came a time when she imagined that she had replaced Violet in Victor’s heart, and I was not exactly pleased.

Victor never said anything that implied that he saw her as much more than a friend. I sensed caution on his part, and devotion on Janet’s. I see now that he was feeling her out, trying to see if she could compare with his departed fiancee.

And she didn’t.

But she didn’t know that, and neither did we at the time. At first, he invited her to go on walks with him every Saturday afternoon. She agreed, and would always rush back to us to tell us everything he said.

Then we saw them on more walks–as many Janet’s job as a waitress would permit. (And yes, she was still a waitress, even after all these years. She never progressed in that career.) Shy little Janet would be clutching his hand eagerly, while Victor chatted with her, doing most of the talking. It wasn’t a pretty picture of an equal relationship–everyone could see that Janet was utterly dependent on Victor.

He didn’t need her, I knew. And eventually, I began to sense that he didn’t want her. He had surveyed and judged her; she wasn’t the person for him. Victor stopped inviting her for walks, and actually started staying at home. Anyone else would have taken the hint and left him alone, but Janet simply became more nervous, feeling that she had failed him somehow. For the next year, she tried to connect with him again, and I pitied them both as I saw with what reluctance he met her.

Avery and I were both disgusted at his selfish flirtation, and angered at his rather rude way of breaking off. But I wanted Janet happy most of all. I guess that was my error…

One day, she asked me for advice about why Victor seemed to be avoiding her.  My tips were not good at all , I see now. But it’s too late to change what I said.

“Maybe he’s tired of you because you never told him how much you mean to him,” I guessed.

She looked shocked. “What?”

“Janet, you need to be more confident. Tell him. He’s not going to ask you.”

“Tell him?”

“Janet, you’re too timid. If you love him, let him know. Say, this afternoon.”

“Do you think so?”

“Yes,” I said, laying a hand on her shoulder.

“I couldn’t live with it if he rejected me!”

Why did I not pause there? Why didn’t I hear those words?

“He won’t,” I replied. “Now calm down and go home. This afternoon when Victor visits, you should tell him everything.”

When Avery got home, I realized that something was wrong. Her face was red with anger.

“What did you tell Janet?” she demanded. “She’s told me that she intends to tell Victor ‘all about it.’ What have you done?”

“I told her to tell him about her feelings,” I faltered.

Avery flushed.

“Quincey, how could you? You want Janet to marry that selfish man? Look at what happened when Violet–when she died. He just moved on. He literally just ran away and came back when everything had cooled off. He avoided her funeral. And that was his fiancee! Do you really want that sort of person with Janet?”

“He’s not that bad,” I feebly responded. But as I thought about it, I realized that Avery was right. Victor was selfish. He didn’t care for the uncle he had promised to help, he didn’t join the family business as his father wished, and he lounged about most of his days rather than employing himself usefully. Victor was not the right fit for Janet.

But I was angry, for I felt Avery was simply jealous because Janet was preoccupied with Victor and no longer had time for us.

“What about you, Avery?” I snapped back. “What do you really have against Victor? If he makes Janet happy, leave him alone and mind your business!”

“Happy? Happy? She’s miserable! Victor is her only source of pleasure, of pride, of self-esteem. She’s going down a dangerous path–and it’s my business to see that she doesn’t!”

She stalked out of the apartment.

I stormed to my room, suddenly feeling  ill. I almost never quarreled with Avery, and I felt upset about what I had said to her. I thought I would rest, then apologize later.

Then it happened.

I sat on my bed, drawing my knees up, holding my head on my arm, and trying to stop the dizzy feeling. I couldn’t see anything, even though my eyes were open.

I could see again—but this time I wasn’t in the apartment bedroom anymore. Instead, I was in the Riches’ backyard, by the pool. I tried to move, only to find myself immobile. A sense of foreboding enveloped me, and I began to remember when last I had experienced this… Two people were sitting in beach chairs at the edge of the pool—Janet and Victor. He was doing all the talking, and Janet was staring pensively into the water. Sometimes she would try to speak, then shake her head and bite her lip.

Finally he stopped and began to rise. “It’s almost five o’ clock. I’d better go.”

“No–no, Victor, I want to—tell you something.” She continued to look at the pool.

“Oh?” He sat down.

“It’s that—” She shook her head.

“Don’t worry, you can always tell me.”

“You’ll listen?”

“You know I will, Janet.”

She took a deep breath, then faced him. Her face was eager, bright, hopeful.

“Victor, I love you!” she cried. “I have always admired you! I know I’m always failing, and I know most people would think I’m a hopeless case, but you’ve always encouraged me. Last summer, I realized I more than admired you—I loved you. But I didn’t know how to tell you my feelings until now.”

She waited for him to answer. Victor reached out and took her hand, and I saw her blush. But his next words made her turn white.

“Violet,” he said softly, “you have always been a friend to me, but nothing more. I never felt this way about you.”

She gasped. “But—I always thought…”

“No, no, Janet!”

“Then why else could you…all those times we’ve had, visiting each other’s families, having dinners together at our house, or that evening last year. You and I watched the sunset as I came home from work? Remember—you put your hand on mine and said, ‘Some things last forever.’” She was now crying, and Victor guiltily offered her a tissue. As she wiped her face, he tried to justify himself:

“Janet, I was never in love with you. You were always my friend, and when I was saying that—I wasn’t thinking.”

“What do you mean?”

“Janet…no...okay, I did like you at one point. But I realized very soon that I didn’t love you. When I marry, I want a woman who is…I don’t know, different, like Violet.” He stopped, then continued painfully, “There was something about her—something lively and strong—that I don’t find in you, Janet. No matter what I said last year, you must believe me—I don’t mean it anymore.”

She stared at him through a wave of tears. “So I’m a failure? I don’t measure up to your standards, or what?”

“You are still my friend, Janet,” he assured her. “But I don’t feel this way about you, so…”

They were still holding hands unconsciously as they spoke, and Victor noticed that. He gently pulled his hand away and stood up.

“I’m sorry, Janet. I really am.”

She said nothing, sobbing violently now.

“Do you—do you want me to call your mother?” he asked, backing away.

“Go away, please…”

He did so with a heavy step, and I was not sure whom I pitied more, him or Janet.

She was still there, staring into the water and crying hysterically. As he left, she finally wiped her face, got up, and began to pace the pavement distractedly. I became worried. What was Janet going to do?

She now stood at the edge of the pool, and I heard her talking to herself: “A failure…I don’t measure up…no, I never did. I was always a coward, and nobody wants me. Some things…some things last forever! No, Victor, you didn’t mean that!”

She looked at the pool. “Goodbye, then. You shan’t see your failure again—find someone better than me! Goodbye…”

The image spun wildly, and I could see it no more…I found myself back on my bed, panting hard.

I didn’t waste time. I called Janet immediately. When she didn’t pick up, I phoned Mrs. Rich.

“Hey Mrs. Rich, where’s Janet?”

“I haven’t seen her since dinner. She and Victor had some rice here, then went to the pool to talk. Let me see—no one’s at the pool, so Victor must have gone home. It’s possible that she went to bed early. I’ll go see.” A few minutes later, “She’s not there either.”

“You mean you can’t find her?”

“No.”

“Hang on, Mrs. Rich, I’ll be there in a minute.”

I drove down to the house as fast as I could.

I scrambled to the pool. The place looked slightly different. Two stones from the pavement were missing. I glanced at the empty beach chairs. There, on Janet’s seat, was a little piece of paper. I picked it up and read it in the waning light. It was a short note, only two words, in her handwriting.

Goodbye Victor!

And then I knew what she had done.

I do not properly remember what happened afterwards. There was a blur—police being called, people rushing about, Mrs. Rich crying and phoning her husband…then the body.

They dragged Janet’s body out of the pool. Around her waist were tied two stones from the pavement. I think, when I saw her pale, miserable face, I must have had to be taken inside, because I only recall lying on a carpet and sobbing.

Then maybe Avery came and talked to me—or maybe she didn’t. I drove home—or perhaps I got a ride from Mrs. Rich. I staggered into my kitchen, collapsed into a chair, and burst into tears once more.

Her funeral was held about ten days later. Mr. and Mrs. Rich, Avery and I, and our families all attended. Victor had also been invited, but he hadn’t shown up. Indeed, he hadn’t been seen since Janet’s death.

“Just like him,” said Avery, angrily wiping away a tear. “He would do that—break Janet’s heart and just run away like that!”

“Shhh,” I whispered. “Isn’t that him?”

A figure in black crept into the church and slipped into a back pew. I glanced at Avery, whose eyebrows were raised in disbelief. I moved to the end of the church to speak with him, and she reluctantly followed.

Victor was weeping violently, trying unsuccessfully to stifle his sobs in a tissue. I put a hand on his shoulder.

“I can’t believe it,” he repeated over and over. “Janet. Janet.”

Avery sat beside him. “This is all your fault,” she said bitterly, looking him in the eye.

Unexpectedly, he nodded. “I know, Avery! I know you’ve always hated me, and you should, you really should. What a monster I am! Oh Janet, I’m so sorry!”

“Calm down, Victor,” I entreated. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“No, I’m  to blame! There was a time that I thought she would fill up the gap in my heart that Violet’s death had caused. I thought I loved her, but I was wrong. And I should have told her that instead of letting her continue to think that I had any feelings for her. I’ve always been a selfish pig–and it’s too late, it’s too late…”

This speech surprised both of us, and Avery looked at him almost respectfully.

“Victor, please,” I said, taking his hand.

I think something in the gesture made him remember holding hands with Janet on that night, and he turned away from me, and crumpled in his seat with a fresh fit of tears. I stepped back and began moving toward my seat. Once I turned around to see if Avery would follow me. She was still with Victor, and her arms were around him in an embrace.