Frolic of His Own (2 page)

—Woman getting off the elevator, she sailed into that nurse with a tray of blood samples and wait, wait Christina sit down, don't . . .

—But it's Trish! and she was up. —Trish!

—Oh God. Teen how sweet, how did you know I'd be here, look at it. Blood and broken glass all over the floor, it's just like home.

—But what wait, it's all over your coat wait, nurse?

—Nurse! Whose blood is this no, don't touch it Teen God knows what you'll catch, nurse? Can't you do something?

—Just step over here Ma'am so we can, Jim? Where's Jim. Tell him to bring a mop I've got to go wash my hands, tell him to put on gloves.

—Will this blood come out of my, where did she go. No I'd better just burn it, like that floor in the upstairs foyer it will never come out, it's as bad as red wine stains on a marble table people can be so damned careless, simply facing that smirking bitch at my cleaners after the last time she'll come up with cela va devenir une habitude Madame? and have it all over the upper east side, but how thoughtful of you to be here Teen. Always thinking of others.

—No it's Oscar, a car accident, he was run over by . . .

—But how clever! I mean he can sue for millions can't he, if you read about these marvelous awards they're handing out every day in the papers? Is he still at that dreary writing or teaching business or whatever it was? He'll be quite set for life won't he, I remember the time he took us all to the beach at Bailey's and lost his, oh God look at that! She thrust out the point of a 9AAA in mauve peau-de-soie, —look at them!

—But they're lovely, simply exqui . . .

—Don't you see it? right there on the toe, the blood?

—It's only a speck, no one would . . .

—Do you think Gianni would ever sell me another pair if they could see that? She seized the near shoulder,—just steady me . . .

—It's only a speck wait, don't . . .

—You can't think I'd wear them now, spreading God knows what disease all over town? kicking off one, then the other, —I mean they were designed to go with the coat in the first place, maybe they've given Oscar a pair of these little paper slippers like that mad man over there in the wheelchair waving his arms around conducting the music Teen don't look now, a rather slick looking fellow over by the door giving you the eye.

—Where, what oh, oh it's Harry. Harry? Harry this is Trish, we were at school.

And as he came in reach —Oh! seizing his hand, —and he's your doctor?

—He's my husband Trish, Harry Lutz. He's a lawyer, we . . .

—Teen I didn't dream you had a husband!

—Well I didn't a year ago, we . . .

—But how clever of you. Getting one right in the family I mean, where he won't send you these ridiculous bills and then sue you like mine always do, because I've got to call Bunker the minute I get home. Of course I'd hate to sue over this mess but after all he's on the hospital's board isn't
he? and it's not as though I haven't given those damn white tie diamond benefits year after year till that night in the elevator when they ripped the diamonds right off my throat and took poor Bunker's billclip, his old daddy's gold billclip shaped like an outhouse it was just the sentiment, he advertised for weeks and now it's black tie and we just call it the Winter Party to keep it low key which is simply incongruous isn't it, I mean Harry Winston doesn't turn you out for a church supper in Kalamazoo and Gianni wouldn't make me a shroud if they could see this coat right now with God knows whose blood on it spreading God knows what, this new depravity they've come up with just to get back at the rest of us who thought the bad news for a good fucking went out with penicillin but it's not like that loathsome Mister Jheejheeboy anymore is it, making a career out of marrying us we were all such damn schoolgirls but so long after school was out, now you don't dare touch anybody under thirty Teen I've got to talk to you.

—Yes but just, Harry? Harry wait a minute . . .

—Because I mean marriage at our age Teen, suddenly it's half the fun at twice the price will you call me?

Maracas, bongos, chichicaboomchic, he'd got as far from the commotion in the wheelchair as the waiting room allowed, standing there drumming his fingers on the attaché case when a nurse tapped his arm, pointing down the corridor to —six twelve B.

—Christina?

—Yes I'm coming. And that shopping bag will you, oh you've got it. Trish? Call me?

—Love to Oscar, and Teen? I meant to say how devastating for your father, all over the papers with that horrid dog, and you'll call? Someone should simply shoot it, nurse? Are you going to simply leave me standing here like this?

—Here, this way . . . and down the corridor, —talk about Lily . . .

—Well what about Lily! Striding out ahead —no, there are two kinds of people in the world Harry, one of them gives and one of them takes, think about it. You don't think those benefits that Trish gives are breadlines do you? Her third husband owned half the timber in Maine, and here's Lily squeezing money out of poor Oscar when he won't even buy himself new teeth, like that car, buying new tires for the car or will it fly to pieces first.

—Like that . . . catching her aside as a nurse came bearing down on them with the wheelchair from behind.

—Like what.

—Parkinson's, as the wheelchair passed with silent leaps of a hand, jerks of the head, —palsy, Christina. Palsy.

612 B: in the first bed an inert figure lay absorbed in the chaos of a traffic report from a hand sized radio; and beyond the drawn curtain from a welter of newspapers, —Well. You're finally here.

—We've been waiting out there for hours Oscar, they said you were in therapy or something.

—Did you think I'd be out playing baseball? Hand me that glass of water will you? Hello Harry.

—Harry wanted to stop in and see you Oscar, he brought . . .

—Did you bring my mail? and the papers?

—I was going to but I thought they'd just upset you. Of course you've got them all anyway.

—I didn't say newspapers did I? Of course I'm upset. Did you see that item Harry?

—Item? How could he help it, it's the whole front page! She came rounding the end of the bed gathering them up, flourishing the bold headline, —someone should simply shoot it, will you just look at this?

O
UT
, D
AMNED
S
POT

—You think somebody won't? He'd taken the only chair, snapping the attaché case open on his lap, —police, firemen, torchlights, hot dogs, cotton candy, see them on the news last night Oscar? Stars and Bars and the good old boys with six packs in both hands, the hound in the pickup with the shotgun rack behind the seat, they're probably burning the old man in effigy down there right now, he . . .

—What else can you expect, being a Federal judge in that outlandish place Oscar move your leg.

—I can't, wait, those newspapers, what are you doing . . .

—Throwing them out, you've read them all haven't you? If you want to keep right on being upset, Harry's brought you a copy of Father's Opinion that's made all the trouble, that's the . . .

—That's not why I'm upset! There's something in one of the papers, can you just leave them there? Something about that big Civil War movie, somebody suing that man Kiester who made it, did you see that Harry? the one that made that Africa movie with those special effects that had people passing out in the aisles?

—Those lawsuits are a dime a dozen, Oscar. Nuisance suits, people who hope to get paid off just to go away, look I've got to get downtown, the . . .

—No but if he stole my idea, the same story all of it, it's even the same battle it's not a, just a nuisance it really happened, it was my own grandfather wasn't it?

—Oscar you can't just, you can't own the Civil War. You can't copyright history, you can't copyright an idea now here, here's your father's Opinion. It's great bedside reading, you can see if they could get their
hands on this Szyrk character down there they wouldn't bother with burning an effigy.

—No but Harry?

He was up, closing the attaché case with a snap, —frankly I think he'll be overturned on appeal, a poisonous atmosphere like that down there the newspapers are already going after him just for being past ninety years old . . .

—Harry!

—Racist, leftist, they'll dig up anything they can to kill his chances for the circuit court and a reversal won't help.

—Will you just sit down for a minute? Oscar's asking you something.

—Well what Christina, what. I just told him copyright law isn't my field and . . .

—Maybe that's not what he's trying to ask you.

—Well what is he trying to ask me!

—He's expecting the insurance man about the accident and he told me he wanted your advice.

—Look I just said I'm in corporate law, I'm not one of these ambulance chasers I don't even know what happened, now let me . . .

—I told you what happened. He's been talking about getting the ignition on that car fixed for years, the way he's talked about getting new teeth but he . . .

—Oscar what the hell happened.

—Well this car, it's not new, I mean it wasn't new when I bought it and about a month ago the ignition switch broke and the garage didn't have one, they had to order a new one but it hasn't come in yet so they showed me how to start it by touching a wire from the coil to the battery and usually I stand beside it but this time . . .

—He was standing right in front of it Harry. When it started suddenly it slipped into Drive and I mean why were you standing in front of it Oscar, how could the . . .

—Because there was a puddle beside it and I didn't want my . . .

—Look nobody's asking him that, Christina. The insurance covers the owner of the car so he just sues the owner.

—But he owns it Harry, it's his car he owns it.

—The owner's insurance would probably go after the driver.

—But there wasn't any driver that's the point! The car ran over him and nobody was driving it.

—Let them worry about that, go after the car's maker for product liability, it couldn't have been in Drive or it wouldn't have started, probably the only proof they'd need, just the incident itself. Res ipsa loquitur Oscar, like the chandelier falling on your head. What kind of car is it.

—It's a Japanese car a red one, whatever got into him to buy a red one.

—When you buy a used car Christina you can't always choose the colour, I saw the ad in the paper and when I . . .

—Look Oscar I've got to get downtown, hope the next time I see you you're out playing baseball . . . with a clap on the supine shoulder and —I hope there's nothing under that bandage, you could have a nice lawsuit right there. Christina? I'll be late. Oh and Oscar? He was through the door, —don't sign anything.

—Why does he want to see me playing baseball? I've never, ow! What are you doing!

—Just cranking your bed up a little, laid out like that it's like talking to a corpse.

—Well stop it stop! It's fine it's, listen I've got five cracked ribs and this shoulder throbs like a, it's like a hot poker and my leg, I can't even . . .

—I know all that yes, you told me on the phone. Don't they give you anything for pain in this place? And these pillows . . .

—Please they're fine!

—I mean they don't seem to care what happens to you, lying around here in this slovenly mess. I've brought your robe and pajamas, at least you won't have to greet people wearing this shroud looking thing.

—Why do you say that.

—Say what.

—This shroud. And being laid out like a corpse.

—Well, you look like you're ready for the potato sack race, is that any better? And I mean does anyone? come to see you?

—That's what I'm telling you. Last night, a man in a black suit I thought he was a, that it was one of those pastoral visits but it wasn't, it was frightening, he ow!

—Well don't wriggle then, can't you just lie still? She'd snapped the sheet straight, tucked in the corner. —Who was it.

—Because this medication they give me, I think it's Demerol, it's as if there are holes in my memory and things that are happening to me are happening to somebody else, because all you really are is your memory and . . .

—Well who was it, a black suit Harry wears a black suit, black raincoat black shoes there's nothing frightening about Harry.

—I didn't say that Christina, that was just why I thought it was a pastoral call but he kept talking about taking messages to the other side and I, gradually all I could think of was that mysterious stranger calling on Mozart offering him money to compose a requiem when he asked me if I was a terminal case and offered me money to . . .

—Well my God of course it's these drugs they're giving you, just a hallucination nobody came offering you money to compose a requiem, now . . .

—He was here! He was here ask the nurse, call the nurse and . . .

—And he offered you money.

—To carry messages to the other side, yes.

—Well really.

—Yes well really! He puts ads in the papers, he reads the death notices and finds people who've lost a loved one and they pay fifty dollars to have a message delivered by somebody on his way to the other side when he gets there and we split it. I'd get twenty five for each message I took over and, I mean you would, once I'd departed, and then he asked me if I spoke Spanish and where the charity ward was where maybe he could find some Puerto Ricans, don't you see?

—I see nonsense, a lot of morbid nonsense.

—That mysterious stranger offering Mozart money to compose a requiem and he thought it was his own? for his own death? while he was trying desperately to finish The Magic Flute? Did you bring those papers? those notes I asked you for?