fifty,“ she said.
I shrugged. ”He’s forking out a hundred dollars a day and expenses to find you.“
”That’s his style, the big gesture. ‘See how much I love you,’ but is he looking? No, you’re looking.“
”Better than no one looking.“
”Is it?“ There was color on her cheekbones now. ”Is it really? Why isn’t it worse? Why isn’t it intrusive? Why isn’t it a big pain in the ass? Why don’t you all just leave me the goddamned hell alone?“
”I’m guessing,“ I said, ”but I think it’s because he loves you.“
”Loves me, what the hell has that got to do with anything. He probably does love me. I never doubted that he did. So what. Does that mean I have to love him? His way? By his definition?“
Rose Alexander said, ”It’s an argument men have used since the Middle Ages to keep women in subjugation.“
”Was that a master-slave relationship Jane was trying to establish with me?“ I said.
”You may joke all you wish,“ Rose said, ”but it is perfectly clear that men have used love as a way of obligating women. You even used the term yourself.“ Rose was apparently the theoretician of the group.
”Rosie,“ I said. ”I am not here to argue sexism with you. It exists and I’m against it. But what we’ve got here is not a theory, it’s a man and a woman who’ve known each other a long time and conspired to produce children. I want to talk with her about that.“
”You cannot,“ Rose said, ”separate the theory from its application. And“—her look was very forceful—”you cannot get the advantage of me by using the diminutive of my name. I’m quite aware of your tricks.“
”Take a walk with me,“ I said to Pam Shepard.
”Don’t do it, Pam,“ Jane said.
”You’ll not take her from this house,“ Rose said.
I ignored them and looked at Pam Shepard. ”A walk,“ I said, ”down toward the bridge. We can stand and look at the water and talk and then we’ll walk back.“
She nodded. ”Yes,“ she said, ”I’ll walk with you. Maybe you can make him understand.“
Chapter 9
Protests, excursion and alarums followed Pam Shepard’s decision but in the end it was agreed that we would, in fact, stroll down toward the harbor and that Jane and Rose would follow along, at a discreet distance in case I tried to chloroform her and stuff her in a sack.
As we walked along Front Street the light was strong on her face and I realized she was probably around my age. There were faint lines of adulthood at her eyes and the corners of her mouth. They didn’t detract, in fact they added a little, I thought, to her appeal. She didn’t look like someone who’d need to pick up overweight shovel operators in bars. Hell, she could have her choice of sophisticated private eyes. I wondered if she’d object to the urine stain on my shoe.
We turned onto the bridge and walked far enough out on it to look at the water. The water made the city look good. Oil slick, cigarette wrappers, dead fish, gelatinous-looking pieces of water-soaked driftwood, an unraveled condom looking like an eel skin against the coffee-colored water. Had it looked like this when Melville shipped out on a whaler 130 years ago? Christ, I hope not.
”What did you say your name was?“ Pam Shepard asked.
”Spenser,“ I said. We leaned our forearms on the railing and stared out toward the transmitter tower on one of the harbor islands. The wind off the ocean was very pleasant despite the condition of the water.
”What do you want to talk about?“ Today she had on a dark blue polo shirt, white shorts and white Tretorn tennis shoes. Her legs were tan and smooth.
”Mrs. Shepard, I’ve found you and I don’t know what to do about it. You are clearly here by choice, and you don’t seem to want to go home. I hired on to find you, and if I call your husband and tell him where you are I’ll have earned my pay. But then he’ll come up here and ask you to come home, and you’ll say no, and
I shrugged. ”He’s forking out a hundred dollars a day and expenses to find you.“
”That’s his style, the big gesture. ‘See how much I love you,’ but is he looking? No, you’re looking.“
”Better than no one looking.“
”Is it?“ There was color on her cheekbones now. ”Is it really? Why isn’t it worse? Why isn’t it intrusive? Why isn’t it a big pain in the ass? Why don’t you all just leave me the goddamned hell alone?“
”I’m guessing,“ I said, ”but I think it’s because he loves you.“
”Loves me, what the hell has that got to do with anything. He probably does love me. I never doubted that he did. So what. Does that mean I have to love him? His way? By his definition?“
Rose Alexander said, ”It’s an argument men have used since the Middle Ages to keep women in subjugation.“
”Was that a master-slave relationship Jane was trying to establish with me?“ I said.
”You may joke all you wish,“ Rose said, ”but it is perfectly clear that men have used love as a way of obligating women. You even used the term yourself.“ Rose was apparently the theoretician of the group.
”Rosie,“ I said. ”I am not here to argue sexism with you. It exists and I’m against it. But what we’ve got here is not a theory, it’s a man and a woman who’ve known each other a long time and conspired to produce children. I want to talk with her about that.“
”You cannot,“ Rose said, ”separate the theory from its application. And“—her look was very forceful—”you cannot get the advantage of me by using the diminutive of my name. I’m quite aware of your tricks.“
”Take a walk with me,“ I said to Pam Shepard.
”Don’t do it, Pam,“ Jane said.
”You’ll not take her from this house,“ Rose said.
I ignored them and looked at Pam Shepard. ”A walk,“ I said, ”down toward the bridge. We can stand and look at the water and talk and then we’ll walk back.“
She nodded. ”Yes,“ she said, ”I’ll walk with you. Maybe you can make him understand.“
Chapter 9
Protests, excursion and alarums followed Pam Shepard’s decision but in the end it was agreed that we would, in fact, stroll down toward the harbor and that Jane and Rose would follow along, at a discreet distance in case I tried to chloroform her and stuff her in a sack.
As we walked along Front Street the light was strong on her face and I realized she was probably around my age. There were faint lines of adulthood at her eyes and the corners of her mouth. They didn’t detract, in fact they added a little, I thought, to her appeal. She didn’t look like someone who’d need to pick up overweight shovel operators in bars. Hell, she could have her choice of sophisticated private eyes. I wondered if she’d object to the urine stain on my shoe.
We turned onto the bridge and walked far enough out on it to look at the water. The water made the city look good. Oil slick, cigarette wrappers, dead fish, gelatinous-looking pieces of water-soaked driftwood, an unraveled condom looking like an eel skin against the coffee-colored water. Had it looked like this when Melville shipped out on a whaler 130 years ago? Christ, I hope not.
”What did you say your name was?“ Pam Shepard asked.
”Spenser,“ I said. We leaned our forearms on the railing and stared out toward the transmitter tower on one of the harbor islands. The wind off the ocean was very pleasant despite the condition of the water.
”What do you want to talk about?“ Today she had on a dark blue polo shirt, white shorts and white Tretorn tennis shoes. Her legs were tan and smooth.
”Mrs. Shepard, I’ve found you and I don’t know what to do about it. You are clearly here by choice, and you don’t seem to want to go home. I hired on to find you, and if I call your husband and tell him where you are I’ll have earned my pay. But then he’ll come up here and ask you to come home, and you’ll say no, and
Similar Books
