couldn’t have.
Oh, she’d saved it and planned it, and even though I told myself I didn’t care, when she finally gave it to me, she had certainly done it in her own unique way. She made a habit of leaving you nothing. I decided I would stop thinking about it. It wasn’t any good to think about it. There wasn’t a hell of a lot that was good to think about.
I watched boats arrive, saw the grappling irons and hooks, looking like medieval torments, rigged under the lights while they split up the area. The officials were in a huddle at the end of the pier where Wilma had parked her things.
After a time Paul came slowly up the steps toward me. He stopped and shivered and said, “Stick around, Judy, while I get dry and get more cigarettes, will you? I want to talk to you.”
“Sure.”
He was back quickly and sat on the next step below mine,rubbing his wet hair with a towel. He said, his voice muffled, “That deputy sheriff named Fish found that two-piece suit of hers in the pocket of her robe. What was going on? Was she wearing a different one?”
“Nope. We were being naughty. Practically a group bacchanal, unless you can think of a more clinical description. By starlight.”
He turned and frowned at me. “You too, Judy?” It struck me as odd that the first question hadn’t concerned the tepid Mavis.
I pulled the top of my robe apart. “You will note, kind sir, that I am still clad in my old blue serge swim togs, the ones with the shine on the seat. For me, cold lake water has a strange lack of aphrodisiac appeal. And if I am to be groped at by starlight, I want some firm footing underneath. You may mark me down as a spoilsport.”
“How about Mavis?”
“A lady would say she didn’t know. But your lady is remarkably nude under that lush robe of hers. And a remarkable figger of a woman, I might add. The other spoilsports were Randy, who doesn’t swim well enough, and Wallace Dorn, who possibly couldn’t bear the loss of dignity.”
He was still for a little while and then said, with shock in his voice, “Noel, too?”
“Consider us both nonplused, Paul pal. I lay it to brandy. Or to atavism. Or obscure revenge on hubby. Or urging by one Steve Winsan. In any case, I say to hell with it. I feel like this is a conversation we should have over a back fence while hanging out the wash. There was chatter about getting back to Mother Nature. Though I am used to appearing before the public without benefit of dignity, I’m still a shy girl atheart. I draw lines. I get all crawly. I think about the decadence of modern society. See, I’m a thinker, said with no trace of a lisp.”
“Where were you when it happened, Judy?”
“I really don’t know, because no one seems to have any precise idea of when it did happen. Somebody started calling her. I think it was Mavis. Then we all listened. Then Gil Hayes started bellering her name so big it echoed off the other side of the lake. And we all listened. No Wilma. So Steve came roaring up to put on the lights, giving his playmates very little time to get decent. I heard the mad scrambling. Steve must have donned shorts while at a full gallop. You entered the scene at that point, from the wings, looking like something pried out from under a stone. And then your executive talent asserted itself. Order out of chaos.”
“My God, I wish Mavis would shut up.”
There was no answer to that. I wished she would too. I looked at the back of his head. I liked the funny boyish way his uncombed hair grew in a sort of swirly thing on the crown of his head. Poor bear. Great big guy with an integrity you could sense. Maybe his claws and teeth were sharp enough in the world of business, but in a setup like this he was a toddler. Types like Steve and Wallace Dorn and Randy and Wilma and—go ahead, admit it—Judy the Jonah could disembowel him with a flick of the wrist. I guess this is the difference: We learn, maybe too early, that the deadliest battlegrounds are the
Oh, she’d saved it and planned it, and even though I told myself I didn’t care, when she finally gave it to me, she had certainly done it in her own unique way. She made a habit of leaving you nothing. I decided I would stop thinking about it. It wasn’t any good to think about it. There wasn’t a hell of a lot that was good to think about.
I watched boats arrive, saw the grappling irons and hooks, looking like medieval torments, rigged under the lights while they split up the area. The officials were in a huddle at the end of the pier where Wilma had parked her things.
After a time Paul came slowly up the steps toward me. He stopped and shivered and said, “Stick around, Judy, while I get dry and get more cigarettes, will you? I want to talk to you.”
“Sure.”
He was back quickly and sat on the next step below mine,rubbing his wet hair with a towel. He said, his voice muffled, “That deputy sheriff named Fish found that two-piece suit of hers in the pocket of her robe. What was going on? Was she wearing a different one?”
“Nope. We were being naughty. Practically a group bacchanal, unless you can think of a more clinical description. By starlight.”
He turned and frowned at me. “You too, Judy?” It struck me as odd that the first question hadn’t concerned the tepid Mavis.
I pulled the top of my robe apart. “You will note, kind sir, that I am still clad in my old blue serge swim togs, the ones with the shine on the seat. For me, cold lake water has a strange lack of aphrodisiac appeal. And if I am to be groped at by starlight, I want some firm footing underneath. You may mark me down as a spoilsport.”
“How about Mavis?”
“A lady would say she didn’t know. But your lady is remarkably nude under that lush robe of hers. And a remarkable figger of a woman, I might add. The other spoilsports were Randy, who doesn’t swim well enough, and Wallace Dorn, who possibly couldn’t bear the loss of dignity.”
He was still for a little while and then said, with shock in his voice, “Noel, too?”
“Consider us both nonplused, Paul pal. I lay it to brandy. Or to atavism. Or obscure revenge on hubby. Or urging by one Steve Winsan. In any case, I say to hell with it. I feel like this is a conversation we should have over a back fence while hanging out the wash. There was chatter about getting back to Mother Nature. Though I am used to appearing before the public without benefit of dignity, I’m still a shy girl atheart. I draw lines. I get all crawly. I think about the decadence of modern society. See, I’m a thinker, said with no trace of a lisp.”
“Where were you when it happened, Judy?”
“I really don’t know, because no one seems to have any precise idea of when it did happen. Somebody started calling her. I think it was Mavis. Then we all listened. Then Gil Hayes started bellering her name so big it echoed off the other side of the lake. And we all listened. No Wilma. So Steve came roaring up to put on the lights, giving his playmates very little time to get decent. I heard the mad scrambling. Steve must have donned shorts while at a full gallop. You entered the scene at that point, from the wings, looking like something pried out from under a stone. And then your executive talent asserted itself. Order out of chaos.”
“My God, I wish Mavis would shut up.”
There was no answer to that. I wished she would too. I looked at the back of his head. I liked the funny boyish way his uncombed hair grew in a sort of swirly thing on the crown of his head. Poor bear. Great big guy with an integrity you could sense. Maybe his claws and teeth were sharp enough in the world of business, but in a setup like this he was a toddler. Types like Steve and Wallace Dorn and Randy and Wilma and—go ahead, admit it—Judy the Jonah could disembowel him with a flick of the wrist. I guess this is the difference: We learn, maybe too early, that the deadliest battlegrounds are the
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