A Touch of Genius
A brief John Nash interlude
By Atonia Walpole
She first encountered him in the library where it was said he went instead of to class. He’d been speaking and she’d bobbed her head around the stack thinking he had spoken to her. He seemed unaware of her presence and so she took the book she’d selected back to the table where she was working.
It must have been hours before she finally closed up her books, stood up and rubbed the back of her neck. Gathering her papers and books and stuffing them in her leather case, she reached for her knitted scarf and coat. She could hear him mumbling to himself and walking back to the stack, she stopped, watching him. A smile crossed her lips. He was writing on the window panes.
“Have you no paper?” she asked him finally.
“Paper is not necessary,” he said, not turning around.
“But the window will be cleaned and all your work will be lost.”
He stopped writing, his hand still moving.
“It’s late. I thought you might like to go for a coffee?”
He turned then, blinking his eyes. “What, no beer?”
“No, just a coffee...but if you’d prefer beer?”
He began picking up some papers and placing them in the leather briefcase he carried then reached for his shoes. Looking up he smiled, “I also have great respect for the powers of caffeine.”
Following her out of the library and down the steps, he pulled his coat around him and flipped his woolen scarf over his shoulder. “Now where is this coffee you mentioned?” he asked with a quick smile.
“Just off campus. There’s a little quiet coffee shop I like. My name is Jean Wilson.”
“Jean Wilson, Jean Wilson,” he repeated.
“I know who you are. You’re John Nash.”
“Am I?” the same quick smile. “Strange fellow won’t go to lectures or so I’ve been told,” he said, watching the stop light.
They crossed the street and came to the door of the coffee shop. He looked back toward the street and then entered behind her.
“Why is that?” Jean asked as they deposited their coats on an empty chair and sat down at a small table.
“I’m sorry?” he said looking up at her.
“Why don’t you go to lectures?”
“Because, Jean Wilson, there is nothing they can teach me. They would eventually destroy my mind.”
A waitress appeared and handed out menus. They ordered coffee and looked over the menus.
“I think I might have a sandwich with my coffee. Are you hungry, too?” she asked him, knowing he’d been in the library all day.
“Hungry…yes, I think I am. Order one for me.”
“But I don’t know what’d you’d like,” she replied.
“Just not too much mayonnaise.” He looked over his shoulder and smiled at someone and turned back to her. “You have the prettiest blue eyes,” he said leaning on the table.
Jean blinked her blue eyes and smiled, “The sandwich.”
“Two slices of bread, a little mayonnaise and a slice of meat, lettuce and tomato.” He smiled back and lifted a brow.
“Yes…exactly.”
John was now watching her mouth when she smiled, her teeth so small and even with a hint of pink gum showing beneath her upper lip. “I like it when you smile,” he said, meeting her eyes for a second before adjusting the coffee cup that was placed before him.
“I like it when you smile, too.” Jean took a sip of her coffee.
“That might be all you like about me…I’m not a likeable fellow…no, not liked at all.” He shook his head a little and chanced another look at her.
The waitress was back and Jean ordered sandwiches for both of them. “And light on the mayo, please.”
John looked around again and turned back, smiling and nodding his head.
“Is there someone you’d like to invite to join us?” Jean asked, tilting her head and looking beyond him.
“No…my roommate… just left.”
They finished their coffee and sandwiches and were back on the sidewalk. John knew he was supposed to do something but he’d forgotten and stopped with his hands in his pockets.
Jean had picked up his scarf from the coffee shop and now draped it around his neck. “You were about to forget this.”
Startled, he looked at her. “Oh, that’s very kind of you to remember it.” He placed his hand over hers as she flipped the end over his shoulder. “I enjoyed the coffee…I’m not very good at this sort of thing…in fact I hardly ever do this sort of thing so you’ll have to forgive me…” He bent forward and kissed her on the mouth, a soft sweet kiss.
Jean stepped back and looked at him. “I forgive you, John.”
“I, uh, am supposed to walk you home now?” The same little quick smile and a touch to his forehead.
“You don’t have to. I don’t live far from here…but if you’d like to?”
“I would like to.” He fell in step beside her, taking her arm as they crossed the street but saying little.
When they reached her room she opened the door and stood inside it. “Thanks for walking me home.”
He rested his hand on the door frame. “Ah, do you think I might do this again?”
Jean laughed, “Are you asking me out?”
He nodded yes.
Jean watched his face. He was odd, she’d heard that about him. “Saturday dinner at seven?”
“A very good idea. I’ll see you then.” Nodding again, he backed away and moved to the stairway.
“John,” she called out, “do I need to meet you somewhere or are you picking me up?”
He stopped. “Oh, I’ll pick you up…sorry,” he smiled.
Jean smiled back and slowly closed her door.
Part 2:
Jean was crossing the square not really paying attention to what was going on with the group of students surrounding a game in progress. It was the noise of scattered pebbles and laughter that brought her head up…and the name Nash.
She stopped just as John brushed passed her, not seeing her at all. She called out his name but he didn’t turn. She turned back to the group of men, one whom she knew and walked over to him.
“What happened here?” she asked.
“John lost the game…he shouldn’t have.”
“Is that what made him so upset…losing a game?”
“He invented it you know…oh, Nash is Nash.” He brushed it aside.
“That’s not what’s eating him. He hasn’t got his idea,” stated another man.
“What idea?” Jean asked him.
“His original idea…he has to publish, you understand, or he won’t find a placement.”
“I see…well, thanks.” Jean turned to leave.
“I’ll walk you in,” her friend offered.
Saturday at seven, she was sure that’s what he’d said. Jean walked downstairs and looked up and down the street. There was no sign of John. Back in her rooms she waited until half past nine before she took off her blue woolen dress and hung it again in the closet. Donning her robe she went to her kitchenette, found a can of soup and put it to warm on the two-burner stove.
Jean was disappointed in John as well as herself. After all, hadn’t she almost asked him out? What else could he have said, she reasoned, but yes. Still it was not a nice feeling to be stood up on a Saturday night. Her soup warmed and in a bowl, she found some saltine crackers and moved to the tiny table under the window. As she was about to take the first spoonful he knocked on her door.
“John?” she said, tilting her head.
“I have come to apologize. I know it’s late. I am profoundly sorry to have forgotten our date.”
“I gave up waiting…would you like to come in?” She noticed he looked awfully tired, circles forming under his eyes. He was neatly brushed and combed but exhaustion was not far off.
“Will you forgive me?” he asked, moving into the room.
“Well…a girl doesn’t like to be stood up but…I’ll forgive you this time. I’ve heated some soup. There’s enough for another bowl.”
“You don’t mind if I join you?”
“Not at all. Please sit down here. You look awfully tired, John.”
“Yes, I have been working…very hard, all week and I am still not done.” He accepted the saltines she pushed across the table and crumbled them in his bowl of chicken noodle soup.
“Maybe it’s just as well we didn’t go out. I think what you need is a relaxing evening…just time to forget about everything…and rest up a little.”
“I think you may be correct…I tend not to sleep or eat…I have to…” he looked off toward the door.
“But not tonight. John, look at me…not tonight.”
His eyes moved back and focused on Jean. “Not tonight,” he smiled.
Jean retied the sash around her waist, pulling her robe tighter around her body. They’d finished their soup and were moving to her small couch. Jean put some records on the turntable and turned to him. “I know you’re too tired to dance. Maybe we could just listen to some music?”
“Yes,” he said, watching her move around the room in her soft satin robe. Dance, he guessed it was a natural thing to do…even in the animal kingdom some sort of dance was required before serious courtship could begin. It all seemed such a waste of time to him when all you really wanted was to…
“I’ll sit beside you,” she murmured, moving a throw pillow.
John rested his arm on the back of the couch. As she sat down in the natural nest against his side he moved his arm and placed it around her shoulder. He was trying to think of something to say that would not result in getting his face slapped.
“I find myself at a disadvantage in these situations. Scientifically and in the natural world I do know that some things are necessary before…”
“Before what John? You still seem awfully tense. Why not remove your jacket and maybe loosen your tie? You might even slip off your shoes…you should be comfortable if you’re going to relax."
“Relax, yes, that is what I was going to do.” Toeing off his shoes and removing his tie, he shucked off his jacket, placing it on the arm of the couch. He turned to her and she turned him around, pulling his head in her lap.
“Now you just lie quietly and listen to the music. Close your eyes, John.”
It felt awfully good in her lap and he turned his head slightly, catching her scent, and smiled. He felt her hand on his brow and through his hair. He lay quietly for some time and then began to think he was not making good use of his time here. There were other things he should be doing…important things…she smelled so good…so soft….
His even breathing told her he was asleep. She worried about the awkward position he was in, one leg over the arm of the small couch and the other on the floor. Lightly she touched his face and he moved toward her palm that caressed his cheek. With her right hand she gently traced his lips, his eyes, his chin, and his brow. Her eyes moved to his left hand lying at ease on his chest, his right arm dropped to the floor. She looked lower and blinked at the bulge in his pants, looked away and then back.
Pulling her eyes away she looked up at the ceiling. This was not planned…whatever evening they might have had if he’d remembered he had a date would have been different. This intimacy would never have occurred. The music stopped and she looked to see if the next record was going to drop then looked down. His eyes were open.
“Feel better?” she asked, leaning down.
“Almost,” he said and reached up pulling her face down for a soft quick kiss. “You have provided a very restful place here.”
“I thought you needed it, John,” she said softly.
“So I won’t talk to you about the exchange of bodily fluids…not that I wouldn’t like to,” he smiled
Part 3:
John rolled over on the little couch and looked up at Jean. “You can slap me now…I expect it.”
Jean looked at him a moment and burst out laughing. “It just hit me what you said…you are a most unusual man! I’ll have to think about that. Slapping you would not help you to relax.” A smile played around her lips.
He sat up straight and leaned against her. “No, it would not, however the exchange of…”
Jean shushed him. “I have never heard it put quite that way.” Her thigh had come uncovered in her robe when he turned over and he noticed she didn’t bother to cover it.
John ran his finger tips up her thigh and met her eyes. “Either I am going to have to leave or ask you what your next step of relaxation might be.”
His fingertips sent a tremor up her body and she closed her hand over his. “I don’t believe you are properly relaxed, John, and I really think…”
His hand took her face and turned it to his. His lips found hers and this time it was not a soft fleeting kiss. “Yes,” she said when he released her, “that is what I was thinking.”
Later in the night Jean eased out of the bed and went to the bathroom leaving John asleep. When she came back she sat on the side of the bed and watched him for a little while, tucking the sheet around his shoulders. She hoped she had succeeded in relaxing him. She smiled. He certainly looked relaxed and comfortable and she wasn’t going to wake him to go home.
The next morning John woke to find Jean cuddled against his chest and his arm went around her pulling her even closer. He’d slept soundly, first time he’d done that in a long time. She stirred against him.
“You’re awake,” she murmured.
“I am and have been for awhile.” He kissed her cheek.
“Should I get up and make coffee?” she asked.
“I'm not ready for caffeine yet but I am ready for you.” He ran his hand over her hip.
“I’m ready for you,” she said, tasting his chest and teasing his nipple.
“You are beautiful,” he whispered and pulled her beneath him.
He was dressing and told her he felt rested and relaxed.
“I'm so glad, John, that I could take care of that for you...and the other thing,” she said over her shoulder
“Other thing?” He wrinkled his brow.
“Yes…the exchange of fluids…you know,” she laughed.
John grinned, “You didn’t slap me.”
“You need a new line, John. I don’t think that one is going to work with just anybody and since you expected a slap I assume you’ve used it before.” Jean was making toast while he sat at the table with his coffee.
“I don’t normally use ‘lines’ as you put it. There isn’t anybody, Jean. I don’t have time for relationships right now.”
“I know what you’re trying to do but you are human, you have to…”
“I’m not like other people…Jean…you have to understand that.”
Jean buttered the toast and placed it on a plate. He was telling her something she didn’t want to hear. “I won’t see you again. Is that what you’re saying?” She bit her lip and placed the toast in front of him.
“I don’t know…not in the foreseeable future…not until I … I can’t have the distraction that you would bring.” He picked up a piece of toast and bit into it.
Jean stirred her coffee. “I see. Well, I’m not going to get upset about it. I’m just sorry that’s all. I think you’re very special. I would like to have known you better.”
“You would not like me if you did. You've been very generous with me and I've enjoyed your generosity and your special touch.”
“My touch? I think you have a pretty good touch yourself, John Nash.” Jean smiled at him across the table.
“I have to go,” he said, rising and looking for his shoes and jacket. “I have work to do.”
“John, I’m glad you came by last night to apologize.”
“It worked out rather well,” he smiled and hugged her.
John went back to his room and worked on and off through the afternoon until a knock at his door brought him around. The guys were going to the tavern for a bite to eat and a beer and they were not going to take no for an answer. John packed up his briefcase and took it with him. It was in the tavern when the women walked in that his relaxed and rested mind centered on a thought. His original idea was born.
Jean saw him about campus a few times. He sometimes passed right by her, other times he would stare at her with a small smile…a secret smile and move on.
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