Cat's Eyewitness (15 page)

20

L
arge, round balls studded with pyracantha berries filled an enormous silver bowl that Mary Pat Reines had won at the Pennsylvania National Horse Show in 1962. Ropes of fresh garland hung over every mantelpiece, doorway, and even the front hall mirror. Alicia and BoomBoom were artfully placing oranges, apples, walnuts, and sprays of wheat throughout the garlands. Before the heavy evergreens were embedded with treasures, a thin red ribbon was entwined with a three-inch-wide gold mesh ribbon, and both were then woven through the garlands. The mesh ribbon’s sides bolstered with thin wire proved easy to maneuver. The stunning finished effect lightened Alicia’s spirits.

The shimmering melancholy veil lifted from Alicia’s shoulders as she and BoomBoom worked this Sunday. She kept up a good front during Christmas, but the holidays made her dwell on those she loved who were no longer living. Bach’s
Magnificat
played throughout the house.

“Every culture fights the dark,” Alicia noted, selecting a robust red apple and placing it next to a pale green one. “Hmm, think I’ll get one equal in size to the green. What do you think?”

“Your eye is better than mine, but balance is everything.” BoomBoom’s gold fox mask earrings with ruby eyes caught the firelight.

“Takes so long to find it. Balance.” Alicia stepped back. “Better. Another half hour and we’ll be about as festive as possible—well, except for the tree, and that monster won’t get here until Thursday or Friday, a Douglas fir on steroids.”

“Did you decorate in California?”

“Mm-hmm. One year I thought I’d use plants native to the great state of California. I used eucalyptus for wreaths. One eucalyptus wreath would have done the trick, but no, I filled the house with them. The place smelled like a spa. When one was greeted at the door, I’m sure they expected me to come out in a bathrobe. Sherry thought it was hysterical, but he had a pungent sense of humor.” She smiled slightly.

“The studio head?”

“Driven man. Brilliant, really.”

“Ever speak to him?”

“Once or twice a week. We couldn’t live together, but once we gave that up, this amazing, supportive friendship flourished in marriage’s place. I am a very lucky woman.”

“It’s not luck. You’re good to people and they’re good back.”

“Thank you. I try, but once sex is in the mix, one becomes irrational. You know, I think men are more irrational about it than women. Women talk about it and are afforded the luxury of acting irrational, but men really are irrational.”

“That’s been my experience, except for Fair Haristeen.”

Alicia sipped hot cider, put the white gold-edged porcelain cup down, and began tying the large gold mesh and thin red ribbon bow that would be the final touch. “Well?”

BoomBoom wedged in the last of the walnuts, the rough, roundish shell rubbing against her fingertips. She thought whole walnuts brought luck so she had one in the glove compartment of her car, her truck, and her purse. “Alicia, you’re supposed to beg for details, not just a ‘Well.’ ” She imitated Alicia’s voice.

“Details at eleven.” Alicia glanced at her watch. “Do you know, it’s ten-thirty. I can’t believe it. It feels like we’ve only been doing this for an hour.”

“Time flies when you’re having fun.”

“It does and I do. With you. You’re marvelous company.” Alicia smiled. “All right. Details. Really. How was or is Fair not irrational?”

“Scientific mind, I guess. Think of it: a human doctor needs to learn one circulatory system, one set of bones, etc., but the veterinarian has to learn different species. I think vets need to be smarter.”

“Debatable but good point. All right, he’s logical. Right?”

“Logical. Considerate. Not especially passionate but not a dullard. We enjoyed each other, but I never felt he was mine. You know how men get when they’re crazy about you, they can’t take their eyes off you, they touch you constantly even in public, they want to sit close and they become territorial. Jealous. All of that.”

“Perhaps he was still in love with Harry but didn’t know it. A man under other circumstances would kill to be with you.”

BoomBoom beamed. “You think so?”

“Oh, now, you know that. We both do. We have the looks they want, and men fall in love with what they see. It takes them longer to find out who you are, and some don’t want to know. Then again, I can accuse some women of not wanting to know the man in their life but they’ll take his paycheck in a skinny minute.”

BoomBoom laughed. “Haven’t heard ‘skinny minute’ in a long time. I’ve heard ‘New York minute,’ though.”

“Well, were you angry with Fair?”

“No. He’s handsome, strong, and very masculine. I suppose when you deal with life and death, you’re covered with blood, you’re pulling a foal out of a mare, probably you see life differently than someone who sits in front of a computer in a squeaky clean white office.”

“Yes. If anything will cut the balls off men, excuse my bluntness, it will be the computer.”

“I wonder about that myself.”

“Men—women, too—aren’t meant to sit still for hours on end. Oh, companies and commerce dress it up by using words like ‘burn,’ ‘download,’ ‘firewall,’ making anything to do with computers sound butch, but there’s nothing masculine about clicking away at keys all day, staring into a blue screen. The body turns to mush and the mind alters, as well. You aren’t fighting, you aren’t cutting trees, plowing fields, hoisting up a steel girder. You’re sitting, sitting, sitting. I suppose sneaking onto a porno site offers scant relief, but that’s not real, either. Images. We’re a nation duped by images, and I know that better than anyone. I used to be a twenty-foot image on a movie screen in films shot on seventy millimeter. You know, BoomBoom, it frightens me; what we are becoming frightens me because we run counter to nature, and creatures that violate nature die or cause catastrophe and everyone dies.”

BoomBoom picked up her cup of cider and sat on the sofa facing the fire. Alicia had affixed the bow, and she sat down, too, beside BoomBoom. “Funny that we’re having this discussion, because I think of it, too. I can do a lot of business on the computer. I can contact accounts, keep accounts, keep up with inventory, but my business sells a real product. I have to go to the quarry, and I’m searching for new quarries or relationships with other companies that have a product I don’t, like marble. What I do is still real.”

“You like business.”

“I do. I’ll give Fair that, he encouraged me. Most of the other men in my life, like my husband, either disregarded that part of me, patronized me, or, worse, tried to come into the business. Sort of the way nonacting husbands begin managing their wives’ careers, I guess.”

“Seen a lot of that. Fortunately, neither of my husbands was inclined that way. One ran a studio and the other one refitted 747s and other big flying cows for rich Saudis and rock stars.”

“Did you think of Mary Pat as a husband?”

This question took Alicia off guard; she thought a moment, then burst out laughing. “No. God, she’d laugh to hear that. No, I thought of her as an angel. Even when I just had to have my career, I loved her but she knew better than to move kit and caboodle to Los Angeles. It would have killed her. She belonged in the country and, sad to say, that killed her, too, but Boom, when your time is up it’s up, even if the agent of your death is another human being.”

“Yes, I believe that.”

The phone rang and Alicia reached for it. “Hello.”

“Alicia, hello, this is Nordy Elliott. I called to tell you to watch the eleven o’clock news. Pete used the story about you and BoomBoom at the SPCA. I didn’t think he’d use it until tomorrow. I tried BoomBoom but she’s not home. I made copies of the story if you’d like, a DVD.”

“I’d love one, and I’ll be sure to watch. Thank you for calling me.”

“I know it’s late, but like I said, Pete decided to use it tonight. You wouldn’t know where BoomBoom might be, would you? I’d like her to see it if she’s near a set.”

“Hold on.” Alicia handed the phone to BoomBoom as she mouthed the name, “Nordy.”

BoomBoom listened as Nordy effused over how the camera liked her; he didn’t say he liked her, rather, the camera liked her. She had trouble getting him off the phone. “Yes, I’ll be at Jill and Paul Summers’s Christmas party. It’s always the high point of the season.” She listened. “I’ll see you there if not before. Thank you for tracking me down.” Once she was able to disengage him, she rolled her eyes, dropping her head back on the sofa. “He’s such a wimp.”

“Handsome.”

“Still a wimp. If you want to ask a woman out, then do it.”

“Men face a lot more rejection than we do. Each one handles it a bit differently. Don’t be too hard on the fellow.”

“You’re right.” BoomBoom handed her the phone. “We’d better watch our debut as the team of Palmer and Craycroft.”

They walked into the den, and Alicia picked up the remote, clicking on the huge, flat-screen TV. After teasers and ten minutes of so-called hard news, they were rewarded with the footage of the two of them at the SPCA delivering a truckload of cat and dog food. Alicia was in the bed, handing down sacks of kibble and cat crunchies to BoomBoom. A stream of smiling workers lined up behind BoomBoom to carry sacks.

Nordy cut away to dogs and cats inside the pound, a clean and spacious one. There were also hamsters, one cockatoo, and an aging black goat. Then he cut back to the women, the truck now half full as workers continued to carry sacks of feed. He did a great job, even making a pitch for adoption and singling out some special animals.

BoomBoom started to cry. “I can’t stand it.”

“Sugar, what’s wrong?” Alicia looked around for a hanky or tissue. She stood up. “Let me get you a—”

“I don’t care if I have a runny nose and eyes if you don’t. I can’t stand seeing those animals. I don’t know how anyone could abandon an animal.”

“They abandon children. There are thousands of irresponsible shits out there. Excuse my foul language. Personally I’d like to bring back the stocks, put them in the town squares, and lock the creeps in. Then I’d show up with a big basket of rotten eggs and tomatoes.”

“You’re better than I am. I just want to shoot them.”

Alicia dashed into the kitchen, returning with a box of Kleenex. “Here. Speaking of shooting, skeet?” She sat back down. “Sometime this week?”

BoomBoom nodded. “Where?”

“There’s that wonderful club west of Staunton, or if Patricia’s in the mood, we could go up to Albemarle House.” She mentioned Patricia Kluge, who along with her husband, Bill Moses, was a good shot.

“If she’s in town let’s go there, then we can pick up stuff for Harry. Patricia is helping with Harry’s wine research. Just look what she’s done with Kluge Vineyards.”

“Good idea. You know, it speaks well of you that you are friends with Harry. You genuinely like her.”

“I always liked Harry, although she didn’t like me, even in high school. Then I slept with Fair, and she
loathed
me. They were separated, but I was the focus for her discontent, not that she blabbed about it. Harry really does have class. You know, we didn’t become friends until we were trapped together at University Hall.”

“Yes. I heard that was quite an adventure.” Alicia remained standing. “More cider? Port? Libations?”

“No.”

The television again caught their attention. The footage was Nordy back at the monastery, the gates opened. He noted that it was Sunday. The camera panned the cars and trucks parked as far as the eye could see, many teetering on the edge of the road. It wasn’t a wide road. He informed the viewers that numbers had steadily increased and that the statue still cried blood. Cut to the statue, tears actually running now that the mercury had climbed. While it was fifty-two degrees in The Valley, it was forty-five at the statue, still warm enough to melt snow and ice, warm enough to thaw Mary’s tears. The cardinal flew onto her outstretched hand, tilted his head, unfurled his crest, whistled out his distinctive four long notes followed by many short ones, trebled. Then he flew away. Nordy interviewed people who weren’t at the statue, since he had sense enough to keep it reverent. He nabbed them at the shops. The monastery did a big business between Thanksgiving and Christmas. The interviews were touching. Some came to expiate their sins, others came to be healed, many prayed for peace or for someone in need. All interviewed radiated a hope, a peacefulness.

After that segment passed, Alicia turned to BoomBoom. “Nordy’s going to get a big career boost out of this. He’s improving by leaps and bounds.”

“Did it bother you that he didn’t refer to you as a movie star?”

“God, no. I’m relieved. That’s the past. This is now.”

“What are you now?”

“A farmer.” She stared at BoomBoom’s face. “How about some Badger lip balm? You can rub it on your nose.”

“I’m not going to get chapped from a few tears and a runny nose, but thank you.”

“I can’t live without the stuff.” Alicia put a round tin about two inches from a Tiffany’s silver box on the coffee table. “Here.”

“Thanks.” BoomBoom smeared the pleasant concoction of virgin olive oil, castor oil, beeswax, aloe vera, and other emollients on her nose, then also put a sheer film on her lips. “Smells wonderful.”