Frolic of His Own

  —Me? gathering back her skirt from the dripping muzzle. —but . . .

  —I mean you must think me simply gauche never to have called to thank you myself for your marvelous inspiration, I put ads in the papers the way you suggested offering a reward really more of a ransom and a most unsavoury young man appeared at my door quite unshaven in clothing that looked like he slept on the grates of course it may be the latest fashion I scarcely know anymore and I hardly recognized him, Pookie I mean he had him on a rope and my mind wasn’t quite clear I’d been at a party with some Tibetans drinking yak milk the night before and he seemed rather larger than I’d remembered him God knows what they’d been feeding him I mean he’s really quite enormous isn’t he but thank God he doesn’t bark and yap like he used to and the young man seemed quite content with my five hundred dollars, I mean there wasn’t a peep out of him when we were robbed two nights later but tell me, how are you all how is Oscar.

  —He’s okay, he’s right out in the . . .

  —Out in the country oh I know, it restores your faith in human nature not having to see anyone, I’ve been helping Bunker do over his country place and I can’t tell you how the creative spirit takes wings simply choosing new slipcovers, of course the place is bedlam because they’ve torn up the floor to put in the new bar with the space behind it for his barman a good foot lower since Bunker can’t bear to look up at him and he’s putting in an entire carpentry shop where his handyman can repair the furniture that gets broken at his parties without the outrageous prices and haggling these antique restorers put you through Pookie! get down! Will you tell dear Teen that’s why I haven’t called her? I’ve simply been up to my eyes with these decorators and upholsterers and God knows what since the day we were married and I hope she wasn’t annoyed at not being invited, I mean you only get married for the fourth time once but Bunker’s lawyers wanted to get it out of the way this year on account of his taxes since I’ve had these marvelous losses wherever you look, will you just hold him for a moment? and she thrust out the leash, digging in her purse.

  —But I have to go, I . . .

  —Oh I know, it’s down there on the left isn’t it awful, I mean it always comes on you in public places like this God knows what you can catch.

  —Get down quit it! Quit it!

  —Pookie stop it! I just have to find my ticket to see where I’m going, there simply hasn’t been a moment to get him spayed will you tell Teen that’s why I haven’t called? I mean I’d just seen her father’s picture in the paper the old Judge, I don’t remember what it was all about I think he’d done something terribly important and of course I haven’t dared call dear Larry when I’m right in the midst of suing his ridiculous law firm behaving simply abominably over these bills and I really can’t help blaming it is Larry, isn’t it? because he got me mixed up with them in the first place but I haven’t said a word because it might upset Teen whenever I’ve tried to call him they say he’s out or in court of course I know he’s simply trying to avoid facing me when they tell me he’s away they can hardly expect me to believe them can they?

  —Ouch! no, I think you can believe them this time . . .

  —Pookie stop it! a ribbon of tickets fluttering in one hand as she yanked back the leash with the other —I mean after all self preservation’s nine tenths of the law really, isn’t it? and she was left clutching the ticket with —my God, Rio?

  Outside at the curb, the policeman looming over the baleful figure huddled alone in the car’s front seat looked up sharply from his summons pad to the disheveled onslaught of blonde hair, coat flying loose as she pulled up short for the moment it took her to seize the situation and rush at him with —Officer! pointing haphazard down the platform at a man who might have been fleeing for a tiled refuge from the throes of diarrhea —he stole my purse! and, the pursuit so joined, turned back to the car. —Where is he?

  —Gone. I told him we’d wait for his . . . but she was already round the other side of the car.

  —We’re waiting for nothing! to the squeal of a cab’s brakes behind them as she swept into the stream of traffic leading out to the highway full into the rising sun.

  —You’re driving too fast. What took you so long in there.

  —A woman with a dog.

  —But why did . . .

  —I told you! Their course veered to the blare of horns as she reached up for the sunshade —a crazy woman with a dog!

  —I thought you were finding out about his flight, I had to sit out there with him while he . . .

  —What’s that? where her eye caught the glitter of gold snapping open and closed in his hand.

  —This? It’s my grandfather’s watch, it was in his pocket he almost forgot to give it to me. I had to sit out there with him while he dragged me through the whole thing again, Father getting furious when he saw that lower court decision where Mudpye put one over on that stupid woman judge and what fools we were not to spot the trap they laid for us letting us sue in district court here instead of California preempting the Federal statutes and getting it in under New York law and not even following through with an appeal, what kind of nitwits were my lawyers anyhow? This old bugger tried to run them down but they told him my lawyer had gone fishing and they didn’t know anything about that black who showed up down there trying to register those family letters for copyright so Father sat down and did it himself. He knew Judge Bone, knew he’d see right through it but he sat down and wrote out the appeals brief himself and sent that local kid lawyer up here with it, that was Father. You want something done right you do it yourself, he could have called me couldn’t he? what I was going through? May have thought I was a, that I was a damn fool that’s what he said, that I was just a damn fool but I wasn’t venal, that I’d sold out the family and Grandfather writing that movie he knew they were just using it to block his seat on the circuit court with the madness and all the rest of it but, and then he told me, when I said maybe Father thought I was a damn fool but, but he came through for me didn’t he? snapping the watch case open, snapping it closed hard and clutching it there —that he cared about me, that he did it because he cared enough about me to . . .

  —Is it gold?

  —Is, it what. Is what gold.

  The car veered again as she glanced down, her hands tight on the wheel and the sun catching the perspiration beading her lip. —You could sell it, she said. —You could sell it and buy something.

  —Sell it! His hand closed tighter as though it were being wrenched from him —it was my, I told you, it was my grandfather’s I used to, when he put on his evening clothes he used to let me change it from his suit to that black waistcoat with the quilted buttons and and, and sell it? What could I ever buy to replace that! the only thing I’ve got left in this whole terrible, this whole sad story, the only one who ever really cared for me and . . .

  —You could buy me a nice watch, she said in a voice as hard and level as the road ahead.

  —You? he gasped, —buy you?

  —With a gold band.

  —But how can you say, but I never heard anything so, so cold blooded and sel . . .

  —And selfish! You want to hear somebody cold blooded and selfish Oscar you better just listen to yourself. That’s all you can talk about is yourself, Jesus Christ! I mean yourself and your father he’s dead and your grandfather he’s dead and this raw deal you got on this play you wrote about this war that happened a thousand years ago that’s like some sickness where everybody’s been nursing you through it till we all catch it and the whole house is like living in this hospital out of the past, it’s the past all of it’s the past! All of it’s . . .

  —God listen, slow down, you’re driving too fast we’ll be . . .

  —All of it! with an extra burst of speed bearing down on the white station wagon carrying four nuns and the license HAIL MARY a mile a minute before them —while you sit there like you’re ready to cry clinging onto this old watch like it’s some magic charm and these ashes you’re sa
ving up there in that coffee can? All of it, all of it should have gone right in the grave where it belongs with that messenger we should have put on the plane for the other side before it was too late.

  —Who do you, what do you mean too late we’re rid of him aren’t we?

  —I mean Jesus Christ Oscar who do you think I mean! the sun glistening on her trembling lip, on her open throat looking up to the rearview mirror, surging ahead, —who the hell do you think!

  —No but, yes but listen, we don’t even know what happened, she didn’t tell us did she? Maybe she, maybe there’s some misunderstanding, all she talked about was his sisters how awful Harry’s sisters are when I asked her, she wouldn’t just leave them alone in their apartment like that if he, if something like that happened would she? when all she could talk about was this Masha using her cosmetics and look out! both his hands seizing the dashboard —you’re too close! you’re, listen do you want me to drive? you’re . . .

  —Did you see her Oscar? did you look at her? I mean did you really look at her? walking in there like some zombie sitting there staring at us don’t you know what somebody looks like in a state of shock? don’t you ever go to the movies? I mean look at me, do you ever look at me? her own eyes flashing back to the rearview mirror as the traffic grew heavier with the end of the divider streaming before them, behind them, toward them and past in a blur of speed —do you! With Daddy going in for this big cancer operation with this sleazeball Reverend Bobby Joe fucking me out of every cent with this cancer I’ve got right here in my breast you think is just some plaything how am I supposed to pay for that if I’ve got it! her eyes fixed on the mirror now —oh this bastard, this bastard.

  —God Lily listen slow down, you’re . . .

  —With Al out there in the woods trying to shoot down that shit Kevin screwing my girlfriend from long lines look at him! this bastard behind me he keeps trying to pass me look at him! her hands on the wheel white across the knuckles —bastard look at him. Snap your seatbelt.

  —Well good God let him pass! his own hand gripping the dash as he looked back at the glare of sunlight on the windshield and the flared nostril snout of the BMW almost within reach —let him! as with no more torque at the wheel than she might have used straightening a picture, righting a teacup, the image coming up behind them veered from sight and was gone in a shearing crash as she swerved for the exit.

  —Just don’t say it! her voice hoarse with calm before words could shape the sound clogging his throat, sweat glistening on her forehead and her lips clenched tight as her hands on the wheel guiding them now at the pace of a Sunday afternoon drive past brown aprons of lawn and Chic’s Auto Body, chain link and post and rail, Dunkin’ Donuts, Fred’s Foto and used car pennants to draw up unobtrusively among the shopping carts littering the R Dan Snively Memorial Parking Lot.

  —What are we doing here?

  —She said to pick up some food didn’t she? Give me some money.

  —But we can wait till we’re . . .

  —Just give me some money! and he watched her brisk walk toward the sliding doors slumped there in the silence, the watch moist in the grip of his hand, until it was broken by the distant whine of police sirens coming nearer, coming from all directions, closing his eyes to the screech of an ambulance, opening them wide with confusion at the bustle of grocery bags and the slam of the car’s door as she came in beside him and threaded the way back out to the street past Jim’s Place, Clips ‘n Grooms, Laundr-o-Mat, Biggie’s Hideaway, pink flamingos and a plastic madonna in the hideaway blue of an upended bathtub on brown aprons of lawn till he could safely ask —Don’t you want me to drive? confident of her scornful silence gliding boldly into the traffic stream on the highway pursued like a distant echo by the howl of an ambulance rapidly overflowing in a burst of flashing lights as it took shape bearing down like the Furies to scream past in a tumult of light and noise —God! do you think anybody . . .

  —I said don’t say it, Oscar. Reach in the top of that bag back there will you? reaching her own unseeing hand to bring the radio to life with an opening chord of Bruckner, to take what he handed her and tear open the cellophane wrap with her teeth, —the sun got in my eyes, okay? she said biting into the Hostess Twinkie, her eyes dead ahead, chewing slowly to the soaring cadences of his ninth symphony which, even in its unfinished state, carried them all the way to the road off the highway, to the byroad, to the gate past STRANGERS ARE REQUESTED NOT TO ENTER without another word between them until she turned, climbing the veranda steps emptyhanded to say —and bring in the newspaper will you? pointing a foot at it there and leaving the doors open for him struggling with the groceries behind her.

  —What do you mean happened to notice them!

  —Oh! I thought you’re upstairs sleeping.

  —I’m on the phone with these, these vultures, make some tea will you Lily? Norrie? I said what do you mean she happened to notice them, she wouldn’t happen to notice them unless she’d been digging through his shirt drawer would she? What does she . . . well my God if she thinks they’d suit Leo she can go out and buy him some can’t she? and tell her I know every single one of Harry’s neckties and I don’t . . . No! I mean my God they’re cashmere, how do you know they wouldn’t fit Oscar you’ve never even met him! meant to ask me what? Of course I left suddenly I thought you were both right behind me, what does she . . . Well my God I certainly do mind Norrie! I mean there are hotels all over town aren’t there? What does she . . . I don’t know! I don’t know whether I’m going to keep it or not I mean it’s not really your business is it? Who? who did, what . . . well she has no business talking to him about all that, put her on the phone where is she, she . . . then call her out of the bathroom! what in God’s name makes her think I won’t need my cosmetics I’m still alive aren’t I? Put her on the, Masha? what did . . . No, she just told me Bill Peyton called what did he . . . Well God damn it Masha he has no business discussing that with you! You don’t know a damn thing about Harry’s health or his . . . because I made the decision! It’s what he wanted and I made the decision my God I’m his wife aren’t I? It was his . . . no I have not seen the paper and I don’t like the implication that I . . . of course he had one, of course I’ve seen it we drew it up together and . . . why! What do they think is in it! Tell Leo and your father they can read it when it’s probated and it becomes a public document everybody can read it, now I’d . . . No. No I’d just like you both to leave right now and make sure the door locks behind you, and don’t . . . what? Hello? oh that bitch! she slammed it down and sat staring at him. —What’s all that.

  —It’s just groceries, we stopped and . . .

  —Well you’re not going to leave them in the middle of the living room floor are you?

  —No, no I just put them down to . . .

  —You look like hell, Oscar. Have you been drinking?

  —Have I, now? but it’s still . . .

  —Where in God’s name have you been.

  —Well we, you know, we just took him to the airport and . . .

  —That bitch! She just happened to notice those Turnbull and Asser shirts going through every drawer in the place, she can go out and buy some for Leo herself can’t she? What in God’s name I thought I was doing walking out and leaving them there I thought they were right behind me, would I mind if Masha stays there tonight she doesn’t get to New York often and wants to get in some shopping, my God don’t they have stores in Cleveland?

  —It’s awfully hot in here Christina, you don’t mind if I turn down the . . .

  —Thank God Lily here, put it down here will you? and as the cup came down trembling —you look pale, are you all right?

  —I’m just, I’m okay.

  —It tastes a little, did you put something in it?

  —I put some whisky in it.

  —I think it’s just relief Christina, finally having him out of here it’s been quite a, quite a relief not starting the day with a game show we’ve been . . .

 
—What in God’s name are you talking about, is that the paper? today’s paper?

  —I just brought it in yes, it’s . . .

  —Well give it to me! and will you get those damn groceries out of here as I asked you? tearing through the pages —in the entertainment section where is it, that sweet tone of hers as though he’d just won a medal, have you seen this morning’s paper? with that edge to it sounding like we both really knew I’d poisoned him for the insurance money and had him cremated to hide the, no. My, my God no! the paper gone down in a heap and the teacup smashed to the floor before they could reach her.

  —Christina here, let me . . .

  —I’m all right! she broke free straightening up, straightening the page—it’s the, it’s just the picture I’ve never seen it he looks, he almost looks like somebody I never, who I never . . . she cleared her throat sharply —well there, you see? It’s Bachrach, it’s back when he first made partner they send them to Bachrach for the, to impress their clients I’m sorry Lily, have you seen my bag? There are some tissues in it.

  —No but listen Christina you don’t have to read it now, you . . .

  —Why can’t I read it now! I mean I, those vultures have read it haven’t they? everybody else has read it? A prominent member of the New York bar and a senior partner in the prestigious law firm Swyne and they got right in there didn’t they, that’s Bill Peyton getting the firm right in the first line, the cause of death was not disclosed though he had reportedly been in ill health recently where did they get that. Where in God’s name did they get that.

  —No listen Christina, try to . . .

  —Did they call here? did they call me? I’m his wife aren’t I? They got his age right at least, Mister Lutz was born in Chicago where his father, an early innovator in the textile industry cutthroat operator would be more like it, went on to make a fortune in the home furnishing business where he expected his son to follow and where did they dig this up, conduct resulting in his dismissal from a series of Ivy League colleges and a brush with divinity school combined with his consuming interest in poetry, which his father condemned as an unprofitable vocation for ‘sissies,’ led to an irreparable breach between them which never my God, I mean he never told me that’s what they fought over you can leave that Lily, I’ll clean it up later.