He’d been teaching her for two weeks now. In two weeks she was almost out of grammar-school and into high-school reading levels. She knew most of her multiplication tables, too, enough to get by on, anyway. Sometimes the full impact of what was going on in this house drove him to a chair; he had to sit down to think about it. There wasn’t anything to think about, really—one day Martha’s retarded, the next day she’s not. Could their sleeping together have made a difference? Must have been. This line of thinking made Leon nervous; he felt responsible. To be responsible for such a miracle is a wonderful thing, but if he leaves, will she revert to her old ways? He shuddered, feeling trapped, hemmed in, suffocated. He wanted to run, to desert her, to go drive real fast and get drunk with his friends and screw some skinny little whore he’d pick up at Mike’s.

And then he’d look at her, or talk to her, or she’d touch him, and his resolve softened and disappeared. He felt committed in a certain way, although she certainly made no demands on him. He’d look at her soft face with those loving eyes and he knew he would be here until she found her way.

Dr. Withins would help. He had stopped by while Martha was reading aloud, a simple book about three kittens. Leon had made sure Martha didn’t go into town . . . not yet. He wasn’t sure about all this. She saw words on the television and on the boxes and packages from the store and asked him to teach her to read, so he did. Beginning with Dick and Jane. She was very smart, picked it up right away, and when Dr. Withins came in, she was reading. Leon would never forget the look on his face. Thought he’d drop his black bag. But he was cool; he just examined her from head to toe and talked with both of them, a routine examination. Then he took Leon outside to have a quiet word.

“What’s happened, Leon?”

“I don’t know, Doctor. One day she’s retarded, the next day she’s not.”

“Can’t you tell me anything else? Did something happen?”

Leon kicked at some stones in the driveway. He was suddenly ashamed.

“Have you been staying here?”

“Yes.”

“Before and after?”

“Yeah.”

“And you have no idea what happened?”

“No . . .”

“Come on, Leon. Do you have any idea what importance this has? That woman has been hopelessly retarded for years. Since birth, I believe, although I’ll have to check on that. And now all of a sudden, at fifty-­four years old, she’s regained intelligence, looks like to a normal level. Something happened. Something between you two?”

“Well . . . we slept together one night.”

“Had sex?”

“Not exactly, I mean, I didn’t . . .”

“No penetration?”

“No.”

“But cuddling and caressing and loving?”