Going Out in Style (22 page)

Snooky had flown in from Kansas for the wedding and was telling Maya about his current girlfriend.

“She’s gorgeous, Maya, absolutely gorgeous. She’s part
American Indian and she’s got waist-length black hair. You’ve never seen anything like it. Her father was a doctor specializing in rare tropical diseases, and she’s lived all over the world. She’s the most fascinating person I’ve ever met. You should hear the stories she has to tell. We’re planning to go to Burma together sometime. I feel like I’ve met my soul mate, Maya. My soul mate.”

“I give it two weeks,” Maya said, picking up an hors d’oeuvre. “Maybe three.”

“You don’t mean that, Maya. You say that, but you don’t mean it.”

“I don’t like the sound of this rare tropical disease stuff. How do you know she’s not carrying malaria or a parasitical worm or something?”

Snooky gazed at her reproachfully. “You’re jealous. Do you realize that, Maya? You’re jealous. You’re always jealous of my girlfriends.”

“Well, Snooky, I probably would be jealous, except none of your relationships last long enough for me to work up any real emotion over them. What do you think this is?”

“
Escabèche
,” said Snooky. “Marinated poached fish. Delicious. Aunt Etta is in good voice, isn’t she?”

Aunt Etta, seated at one of the tables, was calling loudly for a whisky-and-soda.

“There’s Susan over there. Did you know she’s been going out with that detective, what’s his name, Janovy, the one who was on the case, for a couple of months now? Albert says he thinks they’re getting serious. Isn’t life strange?”

“Yes. Almost as strange as these hors d’oeuvres. What’s this one?”

“Kappa-maki. Cucumber sushi. You dip it in the horseradish and wrap this ginger around it.”

“Oh. I see. How come you know all these things and I don’t, Snooks?”

“You haven’t been to as many parties as I have,” said Snooky, signaling for more champagne.

Bernard was standing by the buffet table in his dull gray suit. He was sweating profusely in the late June heat and watching little Harold eating caviar.

“That’s enough,” he said at last. “You’re not supposed to eat it with a shovel. Take one more cracker and go away.”

“But I’m not done.”

“You’ve already had more than enough.”

“No, I haven’t.”

“Yes, you have.”

“No, I haven’t.”

“Yes, you have.”

They regarded each other with open hostility.

“What does a little kid like you know about caviar, anyway?” Bernard asked. “It doesn’t seem right.”

“What does a fat pig like you know about caviar?” Harold responded. “It doesn’t seem right to me either.”

Bernard was insulted. “I am not a fat pig.”

“Yes, you are.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are.”

Another impasse. Bernard was struck by a wild impulse. He reached into his pocket, pulled out his wallet and thumbed out several ten-dollar bills.

“Here,” he said. “I’ll pay you to go away.”

Harold was intrigued. “How much?”

“Thirty dollars if you’ll go away and leave me alone.”

“Thirty dollars,” said Harold, deeply impressed. “Okay. Do you think I should tell my mother?”

“I wouldn’t,” said Bernard. He looked down meaningfully at Harold. A knowing glance passed between them. “I have no intention of telling my wife, or indeed anyone,” said Bernard, taking a cracker and spreading it generously with black caviar. “And I suggest you do likewise.”

“Gotcha,” said Harold.

“Don’t spend it all in one place,” said Bernard, but the boy was already gone, spinning like a tumbleweed over the sunlit grass.

Bernard was sitting comfortably ensconced in his study. The lights were out and he had his eyes closed. It was the day after the wedding and he was finding it difficult to regain his concentration. Any slight interruption of his routine upset him for days, and a major social event such as a wedding could throw him off course for weeks. He was pretending now to be working, but he was actually drifting into a pleasant, dreamy reverie when the lights came on and he felt a set of tiny claws digging into his wrist.

He opened his eyes. Snooky had plopped down in the chair opposite and was grinning at him wolfishly. On Bernard’s lap, clinging to his arm with all its might, was a tiny tiger-striped kitten. It bared its pointed teeth at him and began to yowl.

“Bernard, meet Snuffles Two. Snuffles, this is Bernard.”

Snuffles Two was looking him over and did not seem to like what it saw. It let go of his arm and sank its teeth firmly into his thumb.

“Let go,” said Bernard. “Let go. Do you hear me? Let go.”

Snuffles let go. Bernard looked down at it thoughtfully. “A cat,” he said.

“Correction. A kitten.”

“A tiger-striped cat.”

“That’s right.”

“And you named it Snuffles, you clever, clever bastard.”

“That’s right, Bernard. I hope you like the name.”

“Has Maya seen it yet?”

“Oh, yes.”

“And she went all misty-eyed and held it for a while and said loving things about the original Snuffles, is that right?”

“That’s right. How insightful you are, Bernard.”

“Then I suppose that I have no choice,” Bernard said dully. At his feet, Misty growled softly.

“It’s no use, Misty. We’ll have to get used to it. To it, and to Snooky. He’s back and he’ll never leave again, will you, Snooky? This is the final visit, isn’t it? The one I’ve been dreading all along? The one where you never, ever leave again?”

“We’ll go eventually, Bernard. Don’t fret. Look at Snuffles, he’s crazy about you. He senses your true inner nature, your feeling of kindness and compassion toward all living beings. Isn’t that right, Snuffles?”

Snuffles was curled up, purring thunderously, on Bernard’s lap.

“I was just visiting Susan,” Snooky said cheerfully. “She and her detective boyfriend and Harold are going to Disney World for a few days. They’ve been planning to go for a while, but they wanted to wait until after the wedding.”

“That’s nice,” said Bernard. “They’re taking Harold?”

“Yes.”

“Well, at least he’ll have some pocket money.”

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing.”

“Well, it’s time to go.” Snooky picked up Snuffles and put him on his shoulder, where the kitten clung, swaying dangerously. “Thanks for taking it so well, Bernard. See you later.”

“Good-bye, Snooky.”

Snooky went out, closing the door and turning out the lights, leaving a mute, defeated figure slumped in the darkness. He went downstairs to the living room and was lying on the sofa watching television when his sister came in. She picked up the kitten and began to coo.

“Oh, she’s so cute, Snooky. And she looks just like my Snuffles. She really does. Just like Snuffles when I found her, years ago, when she was a kitten. Oh, she’s so adorable.”

“I know. Susan says even that little demon Harold took to her right away. They had never had a pet before, but he always wanted one. He calls her Mabel. Don’t ask me why.”

“It’s hard to believe that Harold would take to anybody or anything,” said Maya. “Oh, it’s such a shame we can’t keep her. When are they getting back from Florida?”

“Next Friday.”

“Oh, well, we’ll have to enjoy her while she’s here. I bet Bernard was awfully relieved when you told him she wasn’t staying, wasn’t he?”

“Oh, yes,” Snooky said. “Yes, he certainly was.”

Gretchen and Albert had returned from their honeymoon and were sitting around the breakfast table on Sunday morning, reading
The New York Times
. Gretchen had the Arts and Leisure section and was going through it avidly, reading out loud.

“There’s a sculpture exhibit on at the Museum of Modern Art.… I’m afraid I’ve never understood these sculptures of headless torsos and things. When it happens to Greek statues it’s sad enough, but to do it
deliberately
 … hmmmmm … Oh, Albert, here’s that opera we’ve heard so much about,
Don Pasquale
.… They’re putting it on in the park, isn’t that nice? Oh, it has that new singer, Emma Kornblut. I’m sure it’s going to be supercrowded, I’ve heard so much about her. Let’s see now. It’s so hot out, perhaps we’d better go to something indoors, with airconditioning. There’s a show of African art.… Hmmm … perhaps just a movie … hmmm … Oh, here, here’s something nice. How about a concert? There’s a new string quartet that’s playing next Friday, and it sounds simply wonderful. Listen to this: Beethoven, Dvorak, Françaix—”

Albert put down his section of the newspaper and said firmly, “No string quartets.”

Gretchen glanced up, and their eyes met. He leaned forward to adjust the collar of her shirt, which was sticking up. His fingers lingered thoughtfully on her neck. There was no mark left now, but the long thin red cut had bruised spectacularly and taken nearly two months to heal.

Gretchen said hastily, “Oh, yes, of course you’re right, Albert. No string quartets. No string ensembles at
all
, this summer at least. Well, let’s see then.… There’s that scuplture show, as I said … Hmmmmm … twentieth-century voodoo art, I wonder what
that
is?… Oh, Albert, here’s something you might really enjoy.…”

Snooky, Maya and Bernard were also sitting over the remains of their Sunday brunch. Bernard was deep into the crossword puzzle. Maya was reading one of her articles and frowning to herself.

“What’s that one on, My?”

“Lizard droppings.”

“Excuse me?”

“Lizard droppings. You know, spoor.”

Snooky shook his head. “Who exactly buys this magazine you write for?”

“Many intelligent people, Snooky. Now shut up, I have to concentrate.”

“If you wanted to concentrate, you could go to your study.”

“I like working here, if you don’t mind too much. It’s friendlier.”

“Suit yourself.”

“You’re just cranky because you hated to give back that kitten of yours.”

“I did hate to give her back, My. I had grown very attached to Snuffles. It hurt me to give her back, especially to that subhuman vermin Harold.”

“You said Harold was good with her.”

“He was good with her. It was surprising. Susan says he may actually grow up to be a human being one of these days.”

There was a silence.

“Snooky.”

“Bernard?”

“Some help, if you don’t mind. Tall flightless bird, three letters, blank M blank.”

“Emu. E-M-U, Bernard.”

“Oh. Okay.”

Silence.

“Chinese lake, six letters, blank O blank A blank blank.”

“Poyang. P-O-Y-A-N-G.”

“I can never get those geographical ones,” said Bernard in irritation. “One more, Snooky, if you don’t mind.
Fourteen across, oracle, eight letters, blank blank N blank blank G blank T.”

There was a silence.

“Oracle,” mused Snooky. “Eight letters, blank blank N blank G blank blank T?”

“No. Blank blank N blank blank G blank T.”

“Oracle … blank blank N … hmmmm.… Wait a minute, I think I have it … no … hmmmm.… That’s a hard one, Bernard. I don’t know, I’ll have to think about it. Are you sure about those letters?”

“Yes.”

“Hmmmm … all right. Let me think. No, don’t look it up. Blank blank N blank blank G blank T … hmmmm …”

Snooky wandered from the room.

Maya glanced over at her husband. “That’s a hard one, sweetheart. You’ve made Snooky happy. That’ll keep him busy for hours and hours.”

“It should,” said Bernard. “I made it up.”

Maya smiled. “You boys,” she said.