{"id":99,"date":"2022-02-08T13:27:29","date_gmt":"2022-02-08T18:27:29","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/foxglovesystems.com\/herbheineman\/Stowaway\/?page_id=99"},"modified":"2022-04-07T17:45:15","modified_gmt":"2022-04-07T21:45:15","slug":"nine","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/herbheineman.com\/Stowaway\/nine\/","title":{"rendered":"NINE"},"content":{"rendered":"\t\t
\n\t\t\t\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t

Debbie and Con, back in Oberlin for registration, faced each other across a tiny table in a tiny coffee shop half a block from Tappan Square. Their reciprocal weekend visits had left much to talk about, which they had only hinted at in telephone calls. It was better not to be overheard.<\/p>\n

Over breakfast they smiled at each other until Debbie broke the silence:<\/p>\n

\u201cOK, who goes first?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou!\u201d Con said triumphantly.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy me?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou asked; I answered.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOK,\u201d she said in mock resignation. \u201cI\u2019m not that much of a baseball fan, but I really enjoyed the afternoon at the beach. I mean, it\u2019s not that far from Philadelphia to the Jersey shore, but going there always included a reminder from my dad about the danger of sun exposure. Cancer. Especially when you\u2019re light-skinned, like me.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMine can\u2019t get enough of it. Sunshine, that is, not cancer. He thinks he can sell more cars if he\u2019s tanned. There\u2019s something about a tan: it suggests confidence, power, money, leisure, quality.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDo you think he actually does sell more?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t know.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOK, so much for tans. Let\u2019s get back to the visits. I definitely had the impression that he didn\u2019t care for me. But your mother was just lovely. I assumed your father\u2019s disapproval was religious \u2014 he seemed to notice that I didn\u2019t take bacon with my pancakes \u2014 but your mother\u2019s Catholic too, isn\u2019t she? And I never felt that she was watching me.\u201d<\/p>\n

There was a long silence, during which Con\u2019s eyes were fixed on a far distant place and Debbie\u2019s were fixed on his. Finally he said, \u201cLet\u2019s take a walk.\u201d He paid the tab and they walked to the end of the block. Crossing the street, they entered the park and were pleased to note that few others were about. A hundred feet away was a vacant bench. \u201cDo you want to sit there?\u201d Con asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, let\u2019s walk for a while. We\u2019ve been sitting for the last half hour,\u201d Debbie answered.<\/p>\n

\u201cDid you ever try reading clouds?\u201d Debbie asked after they\u2019d walked for a while in silence.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat\u2019s that?\u201d Evidently Con was cloud-illiterate.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, look at that one over there,\u201d she said, pointing to a solitary white cloud. \u201cWhat does it remind you of?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, let me see. How about a dog? Crossbred, mother Chihuahua and father Saint Bernard.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat do those crossbreeds look like?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo idea. They probably don\u2019t exist. Would be interesting though.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHere\u2019s one that does: How about a Lab \u2014 purebred?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI like them. . . . just like you.\u201d<\/p>\n

By this time the cloud was becoming distorted by air currents, and as they gazed up it slowly disappeared.<\/p>\n

\u201cHow does that happen?\u201d Con asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cJust a minute!\u201d Debbie exclaimed. \u201cWhat you just said, that was ambiguous.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHow so?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, did you mean I also like Labs, or you also like me?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI couldn\u2019t possibly mean the first, could I? We\u2019ve never talked about dogs, so I can\u2019t know what kind you like.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh. OK, never mind. Let\u2019s get back to the disappearing cloud. I think it just evaporates. Or the wind blows the droplets apart.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cToo bad we can\u2019t have clouds for pets; you don\u2019t have to clean up after them. But we could have a Lab.\u201d<\/p>\n

Debbie stopped and turned to him. \u201cThere you go again! We? Pets? What are you saying?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSorry,\u201d Con answered sheepishly. \u201cI should have thought before I spoke.\u201d Silence. \u201cBut I\u2019ve been thinking: We visited each other\u2019s homes, even traveled a couple of hours each way. We do have something to talk about.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes,\u201d Debbie answered. \u201cStarting with what motivated us. I mean, when we meet each other\u2019s families, are we looking to get to know the families or are we feeling them out to see if they<\/em> like us?\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cBoth, I would say,\u201d Con answered. \u201cAnd I know exactly where you\u2019re going with this. You have misgivings about my father. I can\u2019t help how he feels, but I don\u2019t share his feelings. I\u2019m twenty years old. I\u2019m allowed to make up my own mind who to be friends with.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cFriends. If that\u2019s all we were, we wouldn\u2019t have to worry about your father\u2019s opinion, would we?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cTrue enough. And we\u2019re obviously more than that; that\u2019s why my father does matter. And that\u2019s why I want you to understand, he\u2019s he and I\u2019m me, and we\u2019re not the same person.\u201d<\/p>\n

Debbie did not comment. She was not sure whether she could be comforted by Con\u2019s disclaimer. Teenagers, even twenty-year-olds, could talk a big line about their independence without realizing how unrealistic their boasts were. She was willing to believe he meant what he said but less sure about whether he would change his mind in the long run or under stress. He, in turn, was discouraged by her silence but he was afraid to press her.<\/p>\n

\u201cLet\u2019s talk about your folks instead. I think they liked me, and I certainly felt very comfortable with them. \u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI know, and I\u2019m really happy about that. But still, you won\u2019t want to alienate your<\/em> parents. Suppose we did get serious and make your dad angry, and then things didn\u2019t work out between us. Where would that leave you?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019d have to admit my mistake. Mom would forgive me, and if Dad didn\u2019t that would be his problem. He might even gloat, and then I could just hate him without feeling guilty.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cEasy to say.\u201d Pause. \u201cBut let\u2019s get back to my<\/em> family. I shouldn\u2019t have got off the subject.\u201d And she gave his hand a squeeze.<\/p>\n

\u201cI loved them, all three. They\u2019re so warm and accepting. And Josh is a real prince of a guy. I simply can\u2019t imagine what he went through, losing his girlfriend like that. Obviously she was more than a girlfriend. And on top of that, he seemed to be on friendly terms with that doctor who was responsible for her death.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cJosh found a way to forgive Calvin,\u201d Debbie said. \u201cWe all did. And we\u2019ve never regretted it. Forgiveness has brought a calm to Josh that\u2019s allowed him to get on with his life. It\u2019s so much better than nursing anger forever. I\u2019ve had plenty of time to think about this, because Eden was my best friend too. I wish you\u2019d been at the memorial service and heard Josh speak. At that time I was angrier than he was, if that\u2019s possible, but now I know he was right.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou went through a lot too, I know,\u201d Con said. \u201cIt must have changed you.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, I learned a lot dealing with my loss. I feel a lot wiser, as if losing my best friend made me twenty years older.\u201d<\/p>\n

They found a bench beneath a tree and sat down, avoiding the telltale dried white spots that should have warned them of the danger lurking overhead. But so absorbed were they in their conversation that they paid no heed. Soon enough he felt the impact on the back of his left hand as it covered her right. \u201cIs this an omen?\u201d he asked her, his expression registering a mixture of amusement and disgust.<\/p>\n

\u201cOf what?\u201d she asked, trying not to laugh.<\/p>\n

\u201cHow about this:\u201d he answered, wiping his hand with a paper napkin that he\u2019d taken from the coffee shop. \u201cWhen misfortune threatens to descend on you, I\u2019ll be there to protect you.\u201d<\/p>\n

She didn\u2019t know what to believe, the seriousness of his words or the comedic circumstances in which he\u2019d spoken them. \u201cI could live with that,\u201d she said, hoping for clarification.<\/p>\n

\u201cIs that a yes?\u201d he asked, turning to her with a searching look.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat\u2019s the question?\u201d The twinkle in her eye belied her professed puzzlement.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019d feel silly getting down on my knee in front of you, right here where everyone could see me.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNot to mention the paparazzi hiding behind the trees!\u201d Now she couldn\u2019t help laughing.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re making fun of me!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDo you have a ring with you?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, but I could get one real quick.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSee! You came unprepared. But seriously, aren\u2019t you being just a tad impetuous? Have you really thought this through? How well do we really know each other? And what would we be getting into? How about your family, particularly your dad?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHow about yours?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m not worried about them,\u201d Debbie said. \u201cThey like you. But it\u2019s your parents that I\u2019m not sure about. Even your mother, who was very warm and friendly to me, I don\u2019t know how she\u2019d react to the idea of your actually marrying a Jew.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMy mother decided long ago not to blame the Jews for crucifying Jesus.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd your father?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe\u2019d rather not talk about it.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSo he\u2019s keeping his options open?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t know, Debbie. What I do know is, I don\u2019t really care what he thinks about the crucifixion. That happened two thousand years ago, and neither you nor I had anything to do with it. We\u2019re living in the twentieth century.\u201d <\/p>\n

At that point the bird in the tree reminded them again of its presence.<\/p>\n

\u201cLet\u2019s walk,\u201d Con said. \u201cIt\u2019s safer.\u201d  <\/p>\n

\u201cI agree, safety first,\u201d Debbie said with a smile as they got up, holding hands.<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd you,\u201d Con continued, \u201cshouldn\u2019t be worrying about my father either.\u201d<\/p>\n

As they reached the opposite side of Tappan Square, Debbie said, \u201cLet\u2019s talk about it later. We should go and register for our courses. How about we meet right here at, say, twelve o\u2019clock? We can find a place for lunch.\u201d<\/p>\n

They met for lunch that day and many more, and still Debbie hesitated. A disconcerting memory plagued her repeatedly, that of Con attributing his poor grade on that midterm exam to the Asian instructor favoring Asian students. If nothing had happened between them since then to remind her of the event, she would have forgotten and forgiven. But meeting his father had made that all but impossible. Now she had to deal with the possibility that intolerance ran through his family. Not genetically, of course \u2014 she knew better than to believe that \u2014 but Con had been listening to his bigoted father all his life, including those all-important formative years of his early childhood. Even if he refuted those attitudes as an adult, couldn\u2019t they emerge from his subconscious mind in an unguarded moment? And there was no target more inviting than religion.<\/p>\n

Were those midterms a harbinger of even more disturbing prejudices surfacing under stress?<\/p>\n

Who was the real Con, the spontaneous or the self-corrected? Who, for that matter, was anybody? Wasn\u2019t one of the attributes of an educated person the capacity to know right from wrong and, thus armed, to control the emergence of evil impulses from deep down? And if those impulses emerged nonetheless, would that mark a person as incorrigibly narrow-minded or as a good one suffering a fleeting lapse of conscience?<\/p>\n

She wanted to believe the best of Con. He was charming and obviously fond of her. But try as she might, she couldn\u2019t quite banish her doubts.<\/p>\n

Would moving out of his home change him?   <\/p>\n

\u2756\u2756\u2756\u2756\u2756<\/p>\n

Esther Rabin was a petite woman with a big heart and a powerful, analytic mind. A competent statistician in her office, she was fully devoted to her family at home. She had divined Josh\u2019s infatuation with Eden Avery before Josh himself was aware of the depth of his feelings. She knew that both of them would return changed from the weekend in Ithaca following Josh\u2019s freshman year at Cornell.<\/p>\n

As Debbie\u2019s one-time classmate \u2014 until that attack of rheumatic fever set her back a year \u2014 and perpetual best friend thereafter, Eden had spent many an hour at the Rabins\u2019 home, and the whole family loved her as one of their own. The Averys were not Jewish, yet Eden had sat and eaten in the Rabins\u2019 sukkah<\/em>, full of wonder at the beauty of that festival, which the Rabins celebrated more for its aesthetics than to satisfy any religious obligation.<\/p>\n

Josh had walked Eden home that evening and had returned with a look on his face that begged explanation. That was the evening the relationship between the two teenagers was transformed. There had followed hockey, soccer, and the welcome home from the Rabins\u2019 trip to Europe before Josh went off to college. Esther would never forget the way Eden had thrown herself at Josh that morning. Eventual marriage seemed like a real possibility, and none of the Rabins cared in the least about the religious difference. They would have unhesitatingly welcomed Eden to their family.<\/p>\n

Then Eden died because of an intern\u2019s carelessness, and it fell to Esther to comfort her son and help him through his grief. Debbie was witness to the story from beginning to end \u2014 had, in fact, played the role of older, wiser sister even though the two girls were the same age. For a while she had resented that Josh got unconditional sympathy for Eden\u2019s death while she, best friend Debbie, seemed all but forgotten. But a more generous spirit had prevailed and now she readily turned to her mother for help with her dilemma.<\/p>\n

That Con had grown up in a Catholic home didn\u2019t bother her; the glimmerings of racial and ethnic intolerance in him were the problem. Already she had seen Asian-Americans, African-Americans, and Jews targeted.<\/p>\n

\u201cMom, what shall I do?\u201d she asked the last day before returning to Oberlin.<\/p>\n

\u201cIf you take marriage seriously \u2014 and I\u2019m sure you do \u2014 take your time.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut how will I know?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cTry to look beyond the present. Imagine life with your chosen one years from now. Try to picture what kind of example he will set for your children. That\u2019s serious stuff, and you won\u2019t get the answers from present-day infatuation. Yes, be guided by your feelings, but give it a lot of thought too.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDid Josh know?\u201d<\/p>\n

Esther had expected that. \u201cIf I said yes, you\u2019d ask how he knew. In my opinion, he was in so deep emotionally he never stepped back to ask the question. Obviously you\u2019re not in that situation, but don\u2019t forget, we all knew Edie. You knew her. She\u2019d been your best friend practically since we came to Philadelphia. All of us felt comfortable with her. More than comfortable, we all absolutely loved her. But what do we know of Con? He certainly seemed like a charming young man, and I\u2019d have to say I quite liked him. But all we have is one short visit. So the best answer I can give you is to take your time. My goodness, you still have two more years in college. Why not just keep dating him and see what happens? And by all means invite him again to Philadelphia if you like. Maybe he can stay longer next time and give us a chance to get to know him.\u201d<\/p>\n

Debbie understood that that was all the advice she was going to get, and she didn\u2019t expect any different from her father, who tended to approach all questions from a scientific point of view. She thought she might ask Josh but, agreeing with her mother\u2019s appraisal, dismissed him as having nothing useful to offer.<\/p>\n

Both Debbie and Con joined the Thanksgiving weekend exodus from Oberlin to visit their families. On Sunday morning Debbie took an early bus to New York City, where the fist surprise of the day greeted her when she was barely inside the Flynns\u2019 home.<\/p>\n

\u201cAh, it\u2019s Debbie, I believe!\u201d The voice was Mike\u2019s, accompanied by a blast of exhaled air carrying unmistakable evidence of a morning pick-me-up. \u201cCome in, old girl. Young Con\u2019s awaiting you. Ha ha, you like my choice of words \u2014 old, young?\u201d<\/p>\n

Just then Con appeared, not a moment too soon to stop her from seeking the security of the Brooklyn streets. \u201cDad, Mom\u2019s around the back looking for you.\u201d Luckily Dad did not question his son\u2019s directive, and as soon as he was gone Con apologized to Debbie.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m sorry you had to see him like that,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m not,\u201d Debbie answered, seeing opportunity where Con had seen only danger. \u201cI need to know these things.\u201d<\/p>\n

This declaration cheered Con, for it demonstrated Debbie\u2019s concern. But before he could tell her so, Mike burst on the scene again. \u201cTrying to get me out of the way, were you?\u201d<\/p>\n

As respectfully as he could, Con reminded his father that they had a visitor, and that he was making a fool of himself. Then he took Debbie\u2019s arm and steered her into the kitchen, where they found Gladys in tears.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m sorry, Debbie,\u201d she said. \u201cI was so looking forward to seeing you again. And this is what you find when you visit your boyfriend! I\u2019m so sorry!\u201d<\/p>\n

Debbie was at a loss. Most of all she\u2019d have liked to throw her arms around Gladys and console her. But that seemed inappropriate, considering her own age and that she hardly knew the older woman. Neither did she know what to say.<\/p>\n

With a sniffle and drying her eyes on her apron, Gladys signaled she would just as soon change the subject. At that point Mike entered the kitchen, seemingly contrite for his behavior. Gladys looked at him for a while, then asked: \u201cAre you in any shape for church?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI think church will do me good,\u201d he answered quietly. \u201cBut I wouldn\u2019t want to drag Con along now that he has a visitor. There\u2019s probably a temple somewhere in the neighborhood.\u201d<\/p>\n

Debbie had learned to say nothing.<\/p>\n

Gladys turned to Con. \u201cYou don\u2019t have to go either place. Walk the neighborhood, or tell each other about your Thanksgiving.\u201d And, grabbing Mike by the arm, she pushed him through the living room and out the house. \u201cWe\u2019ll be back around one. And we want both of you to stay for dinner. I hope you have time and still get back to Oberlin tonight.\u201d<\/p>\n

Once his parents had left, Con sighed deeply and looked at Debbie apologetically. Debbie tried to reassure him. \u201cDon\u2019t look so sad! None of this is your fault.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s my family,\u201d Con replied, \u201cand it reflects on me even if you don\u2019t blame me. When I think of how your parents acted, and how good it made me feel, I can\u2019t help but wonder how seeing my father drunk before church on Sunday morning, and listening to his nasty remarks, affected your opinion of me.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt didn\u2019t,\u201d Debbie said softly, stretching out an arm to him invitingly. \u201cHe\u2019s he and you\u2019re you, just like you told me.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re kind. Luckily our children will only get half their inheritance from me.\u201d<\/p>\n

And you only got half your inheritance from your father, she thought to herself, unsure how he would turn out once out of his parents\u2019 home. As for challenging his assumption about marriage and family, she let it go until he was less preoccupied.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe\u2019ll have to leave right after dinner,\u201d he said, changing the subject. \u201cI\u2019ll go upstairs and get my stuff together.\u201d<\/p>\n

Watching him limp across the room, she thought that his father had already left an ineradicable imprint on him. But she didn\u2019t want to dwell on it; after all, teenage boys did reckless things no matter what their parents had tried to teach them.<\/p>\n

On the coffee table in the center of the living room lay a photo album entitled The Flynns, Past and Present<\/em>. As a guest, she thought nothing of leafing through this collection. It was well organized: older black-and-whites followed by newer ones in color. On the fourth page her eyes caught a familiar image that she would not have expected to see in the personal collection of any family she knew, far less the family of her boyfriend.<\/p>\n

She heard irregular footsteps on the stairs and quickly turned half a dozen pages before Con\u2019s faced appeared. Composing herself, she hoped he would not notice her pallor or the trembling of her hands.<\/p>\n

She had seen the picture; she could not unsee it. Neither could she forget, change, pretend, or imagine any alternative to having seen it. Worst of all, she could not share her heart-pounding discovery with Con. Not now. Sooner or later she would have to deal with it, but she was not ready.<\/p>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t<\/section>\n\t\t\t\t

\n\t\t\t\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t

<< EIGHT<\/a><\/p>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t

\n\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t

TEN >><\/a><\/p>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t<\/section>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Debbie and Con, back in Oberlin for registration, faced each other across a tiny table in a tiny coffee shop half a block from Tappan Square. Their reciprocal weekend visits had left much to talk about, which they had only hinted at in telephone calls. It was better not to be overheard. Over breakfast they […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"parent":0,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-99","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry"],"yoast_head":"\nNINE - The Stowaway Gene<\/title>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"https:\/\/herbheineman.com\/Stowaway\/nine\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"NINE - The Stowaway Gene\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:description\" content=\"Debbie and Con, back in Oberlin for registration, faced each other across a tiny table in a tiny coffee shop half a block from Tappan Square. Their reciprocal weekend visits had left much to talk about, which they had only hinted at in telephone calls. It was better not to be overheard. Over breakfast they […]\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:url\" content=\"https:\/\/herbheineman.com\/Stowaway\/nine\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:site_name\" content=\"The Stowaway Gene\" \/>\n<meta property=\"article:modified_time\" content=\"2022-04-07T21:45:15+00:00\" \/>\n<meta name=\"twitter:card\" content=\"summary_large_image\" \/>\n<meta name=\"twitter:label1\" content=\"Est. reading time\" \/>\n\t<meta name=\"twitter:data1\" content=\"18 minutes\" \/>\n<script type=\"application\/ld+json\" class=\"yoast-schema-graph\">{\"@context\":\"https:\\\/\\\/schema.org\",\"@graph\":[{\"@type\":\"WebPage\",\"@id\":\"https:\\\/\\\/herbheineman.com\\\/Stowaway\\\/nine\\\/\",\"url\":\"https:\\\/\\\/herbheineman.com\\\/Stowaway\\\/nine\\\/\",\"name\":\"NINE - The Stowaway Gene\",\"isPartOf\":{\"@id\":\"https:\\\/\\\/herbheineman.com\\\/Stowaway\\\/#website\"},\"datePublished\":\"2022-02-08T18:27:29+00:00\",\"dateModified\":\"2022-04-07T21:45:15+00:00\",\"breadcrumb\":{\"@id\":\"https:\\\/\\\/herbheineman.com\\\/Stowaway\\\/nine\\\/#breadcrumb\"},\"inLanguage\":\"en-US\",\"potentialAction\":[{\"@type\":\"ReadAction\",\"target\":[\"https:\\\/\\\/herbheineman.com\\\/Stowaway\\\/nine\\\/\"]}]},{\"@type\":\"BreadcrumbList\",\"@id\":\"https:\\\/\\\/herbheineman.com\\\/Stowaway\\\/nine\\\/#breadcrumb\",\"itemListElement\":[{\"@type\":\"ListItem\",\"position\":1,\"name\":\"Home\",\"item\":\"https:\\\/\\\/herbheineman.com\\\/Stowaway\\\/\"},{\"@type\":\"ListItem\",\"position\":2,\"name\":\"NINE\"}]},{\"@type\":\"WebSite\",\"@id\":\"https:\\\/\\\/herbheineman.com\\\/Stowaway\\\/#website\",\"url\":\"https:\\\/\\\/herbheineman.com\\\/Stowaway\\\/\",\"name\":\"The Stowaway Gene\",\"description\":\"Herbert S. Heineman, M.D.\",\"publisher\":{\"@id\":\"https:\\\/\\\/herbheineman.com\\\/Stowaway\\\/#organization\"},\"potentialAction\":[{\"@type\":\"SearchAction\",\"target\":{\"@type\":\"EntryPoint\",\"urlTemplate\":\"https:\\\/\\\/herbheineman.com\\\/Stowaway\\\/?s={search_term_string}\"},\"query-input\":{\"@type\":\"PropertyValueSpecification\",\"valueRequired\":true,\"valueName\":\"search_term_string\"}}],\"inLanguage\":\"en-US\"},{\"@type\":\"Organization\",\"@id\":\"https:\\\/\\\/herbheineman.com\\\/Stowaway\\\/#organization\",\"name\":\"The Stowaway Gene\",\"url\":\"https:\\\/\\\/herbheineman.com\\\/Stowaway\\\/\",\"logo\":{\"@type\":\"ImageObject\",\"inLanguage\":\"en-US\",\"@id\":\"https:\\\/\\\/herbheineman.com\\\/Stowaway\\\/#\\\/schema\\\/logo\\\/image\\\/\",\"url\":\"https:\\\/\\\/herbheineman.com\\\/Stowaway\\\/wp-content\\\/uploads\\\/2022\\\/02\\\/TitleLogoYellow.png\",\"contentUrl\":\"https:\\\/\\\/herbheineman.com\\\/Stowaway\\\/wp-content\\\/uploads\\\/2022\\\/02\\\/TitleLogoYellow.png\",\"width\":585,\"height\":96,\"caption\":\"The Stowaway Gene\"},\"image\":{\"@id\":\"https:\\\/\\\/herbheineman.com\\\/Stowaway\\\/#\\\/schema\\\/logo\\\/image\\\/\"}}]}<\/script>\n<!-- \/ Yoast SEO plugin. -->","yoast_head_json":{"title":"NINE - The Stowaway Gene","robots":{"index":"index","follow":"follow","max-snippet":"max-snippet:-1","max-image-preview":"max-image-preview:large","max-video-preview":"max-video-preview:-1"},"canonical":"https:\/\/herbheineman.com\/Stowaway\/nine\/","og_locale":"en_US","og_type":"article","og_title":"NINE - The Stowaway Gene","og_description":"Debbie and Con, back in Oberlin for registration, faced each other across a tiny table in a tiny coffee shop half a block from Tappan Square. Their reciprocal weekend visits had left much to talk about, which they had only hinted at in telephone calls. It was better not to be overheard. Over breakfast they […]","og_url":"https:\/\/herbheineman.com\/Stowaway\/nine\/","og_site_name":"The Stowaway Gene","article_modified_time":"2022-04-07T21:45:15+00:00","twitter_card":"summary_large_image","twitter_misc":{"Est. reading time":"18 minutes"},"schema":{"@context":"https:\/\/schema.org","@graph":[{"@type":"WebPage","@id":"https:\/\/herbheineman.com\/Stowaway\/nine\/","url":"https:\/\/herbheineman.com\/Stowaway\/nine\/","name":"NINE - The Stowaway Gene","isPartOf":{"@id":"https:\/\/herbheineman.com\/Stowaway\/#website"},"datePublished":"2022-02-08T18:27:29+00:00","dateModified":"2022-04-07T21:45:15+00:00","breadcrumb":{"@id":"https:\/\/herbheineman.com\/Stowaway\/nine\/#breadcrumb"},"inLanguage":"en-US","potentialAction":[{"@type":"ReadAction","target":["https:\/\/herbheineman.com\/Stowaway\/nine\/"]}]},{"@type":"BreadcrumbList","@id":"https:\/\/herbheineman.com\/Stowaway\/nine\/#breadcrumb","itemListElement":[{"@type":"ListItem","position":1,"name":"Home","item":"https:\/\/herbheineman.com\/Stowaway\/"},{"@type":"ListItem","position":2,"name":"NINE"}]},{"@type":"WebSite","@id":"https:\/\/herbheineman.com\/Stowaway\/#website","url":"https:\/\/herbheineman.com\/Stowaway\/","name":"The Stowaway Gene","description":"Herbert S. Heineman, M.D.","publisher":{"@id":"https:\/\/herbheineman.com\/Stowaway\/#organization"},"potentialAction":[{"@type":"SearchAction","target":{"@type":"EntryPoint","urlTemplate":"https:\/\/herbheineman.com\/Stowaway\/?s={search_term_string}"},"query-input":{"@type":"PropertyValueSpecification","valueRequired":true,"valueName":"search_term_string"}}],"inLanguage":"en-US"},{"@type":"Organization","@id":"https:\/\/herbheineman.com\/Stowaway\/#organization","name":"The Stowaway Gene","url":"https:\/\/herbheineman.com\/Stowaway\/","logo":{"@type":"ImageObject","inLanguage":"en-US","@id":"https:\/\/herbheineman.com\/Stowaway\/#\/schema\/logo\/image\/","url":"https:\/\/herbheineman.com\/Stowaway\/wp-content\/uploads\/2022\/02\/TitleLogoYellow.png","contentUrl":"https:\/\/herbheineman.com\/Stowaway\/wp-content\/uploads\/2022\/02\/TitleLogoYellow.png","width":585,"height":96,"caption":"The Stowaway Gene"},"image":{"@id":"https:\/\/herbheineman.com\/Stowaway\/#\/schema\/logo\/image\/"}}]}},"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/herbheineman.com\/Stowaway\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/99","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/herbheineman.com\/Stowaway\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/herbheineman.com\/Stowaway\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/herbheineman.com\/Stowaway\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/herbheineman.com\/Stowaway\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=99"}],"version-history":[{"count":5,"href":"https:\/\/herbheineman.com\/Stowaway\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/99\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":668,"href":"https:\/\/herbheineman.com\/Stowaway\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/99\/revisions\/668"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/herbheineman.com\/Stowaway\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=99"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}