was paid to the possibly unstable individual who had taken charge of it. Alice wanted to take the creatures back to her room and talk to them—debrief them, as it were—but when she drew near the house she saw that her granny and poppa had returned, pool playing having been less larky than they’d hoped. Alice took her refugees to a nearby wash instead and gravely liberated them, though they seemed to have little instinct for freedom. They had been considered food for too long and had undoubtedly seen too much.
6
I ’ve been thinking a lot about that last meal I had, Carter.”
“I never went back there,” he said firmly.
“That was surimi I ate, wasn’t it. Why on earth did you let me eat surimi?”
“You didn’t want to order what I ordered, darling. You never would.”
“That’s because you always ordered badly and wanted me to experience your miserable mistake. I caught on to that trick early in our marriage, Carter.”
“I don’t know what surimi is, Ginger.”
“It’s a fish paste, a disgusting fish paste that’s then colored and fluffed up to make simulated seafood like simulated crab.”
“Did you learn about it there?”
“Don’t patronize me.”
“Darling, I’m
not
—”
“You just pick information up here, in the course of things. I’ve been speaking to a fisherman.”
“Not IXOUS himself!”
“Don’t show off.”
“IXOUS, darling. IXOUS! This is stupendous. Jesus Christ God’s Son. The Savior!”
“I hate it when you show off that tiresome St. George’s education.”
“But this means that things fall into place after all. Why, this is good news indeed!”
“I don’t know what you’re so thrilled about,” Ginger said. “This individual is from Louisiana. He only fished for sport. He was a real estate broker, one of those indefatigable, extroverted risk takers who fished to relax.”
“That really got my heart to pounding,” Carter admitted.
“He told me a little story. Sensitive men don’t have to be violets, Carter. He had invented this little clamplike grill, but without any of those grill thingies on it, and when he caught a fish, he’d take it off the hook and put it in this device and he’d fillet it right there. Slice, flip over, slice. Two swift, economical movements and then back into the water with what was left of the fish. He never thought a thing about it, and neither did anyone else.”
Whoa, Carter thought to his heart, which seemed determined to escape from his chest’s ribbed stall.
“Except this one time, the fish just stayed there right by the boat, breathing through its gills and moving its tail even though it was just bones.” Ginger paused. “And it looked at him.”
“Looked?” Carter said.
“Yes, just stayed there and looked.”
“What kind of fish was it?”
“A redfish, I think he said.”
“Did it say anything?”
“Of course not. It just looked at him for the longest time. And then it sank from sight.”
Carter could not hide his disappointment. Ginger was never going to get anywhere, wherever she was, if she just sat around shooting the breeze with some guy from Louisiana of all places. Sportsman’s Paradise.
“Did he continue to fish after this incident?” Carter asked sourly.
“Not so much after that,” Ginger said dreamily. But then she glared at Carter. “I don’t know why I try to share anything with you, since you always miss the point. It wasn’t an
incident
. It was a
moment
, a
meaningful
moment that changed his life.”
“I don’t mean to be crude, Ginger, but he’s dead now, isn’t he? His existence has been superannuated, right along with his meaningful moments.”
“Don’t think you’re beyond being dead, Carter. You’re not beyond being dead, not by a long shot.”
“You know where I think you are, darling? I think you’re in Purgatory!”
“Oh, for Chrissakes,” she said crossly.
“Is there a mountain there? And a kindly curriculum?” Dante flooded thrillingly
6
I ’ve been thinking a lot about that last meal I had, Carter.”
“I never went back there,” he said firmly.
“That was surimi I ate, wasn’t it. Why on earth did you let me eat surimi?”
“You didn’t want to order what I ordered, darling. You never would.”
“That’s because you always ordered badly and wanted me to experience your miserable mistake. I caught on to that trick early in our marriage, Carter.”
“I don’t know what surimi is, Ginger.”
“It’s a fish paste, a disgusting fish paste that’s then colored and fluffed up to make simulated seafood like simulated crab.”
“Did you learn about it there?”
“Don’t patronize me.”
“Darling, I’m
not
—”
“You just pick information up here, in the course of things. I’ve been speaking to a fisherman.”
“Not IXOUS himself!”
“Don’t show off.”
“IXOUS, darling. IXOUS! This is stupendous. Jesus Christ God’s Son. The Savior!”
“I hate it when you show off that tiresome St. George’s education.”
“But this means that things fall into place after all. Why, this is good news indeed!”
“I don’t know what you’re so thrilled about,” Ginger said. “This individual is from Louisiana. He only fished for sport. He was a real estate broker, one of those indefatigable, extroverted risk takers who fished to relax.”
“That really got my heart to pounding,” Carter admitted.
“He told me a little story. Sensitive men don’t have to be violets, Carter. He had invented this little clamplike grill, but without any of those grill thingies on it, and when he caught a fish, he’d take it off the hook and put it in this device and he’d fillet it right there. Slice, flip over, slice. Two swift, economical movements and then back into the water with what was left of the fish. He never thought a thing about it, and neither did anyone else.”
Whoa, Carter thought to his heart, which seemed determined to escape from his chest’s ribbed stall.
“Except this one time, the fish just stayed there right by the boat, breathing through its gills and moving its tail even though it was just bones.” Ginger paused. “And it looked at him.”
“Looked?” Carter said.
“Yes, just stayed there and looked.”
“What kind of fish was it?”
“A redfish, I think he said.”
“Did it say anything?”
“Of course not. It just looked at him for the longest time. And then it sank from sight.”
Carter could not hide his disappointment. Ginger was never going to get anywhere, wherever she was, if she just sat around shooting the breeze with some guy from Louisiana of all places. Sportsman’s Paradise.
“Did he continue to fish after this incident?” Carter asked sourly.
“Not so much after that,” Ginger said dreamily. But then she glared at Carter. “I don’t know why I try to share anything with you, since you always miss the point. It wasn’t an
incident
. It was a
moment
, a
meaningful
moment that changed his life.”
“I don’t mean to be crude, Ginger, but he’s dead now, isn’t he? His existence has been superannuated, right along with his meaningful moments.”
“Don’t think you’re beyond being dead, Carter. You’re not beyond being dead, not by a long shot.”
“You know where I think you are, darling? I think you’re in Purgatory!”
“Oh, for Chrissakes,” she said crossly.
“Is there a mountain there? And a kindly curriculum?” Dante flooded thrillingly
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