The Rip-Off (11 page)

"You really would, Britt? Honestly? You wouldn't think I was too awful to marry?"

"Let me put it this way, my dearest dear," I said. "I would not only marry you, and consider myself the luckiest and most honored of men, but after God's blessing had been called down upon our union and the minister had given me permission to raise your bridal veil, I would raise your bridal gown instead, and I would shower kisses of gratitude all over your cute little butt."

She heaved a great shuddery sigh. Then, her head resting cozily against my chest, she asked if I had really meant what I had said.

"My God," I said indignantly, "would I make such a statement if I didn't mean it?"

"I mean, honest and truly."

"Oh," I said. "So
that's
what you mean."

"Uh-huh."

"I cannot tell a lie," I said. "Thus, my answer must be, yes: honest and truly, and a pail of wild honey with brown sugar on it."

She fell asleep in my arms, the untroubled sleep of an innocent child; and flights of angels must have guided her into it, for her smile was the smile of heaven's own.

I brushed my lips against her hair, thinking that everyone should know such peace and happiness. Wondering why they didn't when it was so easily managed. The ingredients were to be found in everyone's cupboard, or the cupboard which everyone is, and you could put them together as easily as you could button your britches. All that was necessary was to combine any good brand of kindness and any standard type of goodwill, plus a generous dab of love; then, shake well and serve. There you had peace and happiness-beautifully personified by this sleeping angel in my arms.

Without disturbing her, I shifted my position ever-so-slightly, and I took another look at her.

And I thought,
I have seen Manny sleep like this, too. Manny who thus far has done everything but kill me, and doubtless plans to do just that.

Then, I thought,
Connie looked thus also, for God's sake! The homeliest, scrawniest broad in the world has at least a moment of surpassing beauty, else a majority of the world's female population would go unscrewed and unmarried. And I thought that Connie would probably like to kill me, and quite likely would do so if she knew how to safely wangle it.

And I thought,
And how about Kay, this lovely child? For all I know about her-or DON'T know about her- she too, could have my murder on her mind. Yeah, verily, even while screwing me, she could be plotting my slaughter. Perhaps she would see my death as atonement for her misuse by guys who had used her. Guys who thought she was awful and not a nice girl just because she did it.

Finally, in that prescient moment preceding sleep, I thought,
Congratulations, Rainstar. You have done it again. A very small puddle was in your path, one that you could have walked through without dampening your shoe soles. Yet you shrank-you chronic shrinker!-from even that small hazard. You must spring over the literal wet spot in your walkway, and that mess you came down in on the other side was definitely not a beehive.

She looked very beautiful. Her illness had left her even lovelier than she had been, and… but I believe we've already covered that. So let us move on.

I was naturally pretty wary, and she also was on guard. We exchanged greetings, stiffly, and moved on to a stilted exchange of conversational banalities. With that behind us, I think we were on the point of breaking the ice when Kay popped in with the coffee service. She declared brightly that she just knew that we two convalescents would feel better after a good cup of coffee, and she poured and passed a cup to each of us.

Manny barely tasted hers, and said it was very good.

I tasted mine, and also lied about it.

Kay said she would just wait until we finished it, by which time doubtless, since I was not feeling very well, Miss Aloe would want to leave. Manny promptly put her cup down, and stood up.

"I'll leave right now, Britt. It was thoughtless of me to come out so soon, so-"

"Sit down," I said. "I am quite well, and I'm sure that neither of us wants any more of this coffee. So please remove it, Miss Nolton, and leave Miss Aloe and me to conduct our business in private."

Manny said timidly that she would be glad to come back another time. But I told her again to sit down, and she sat. Kay snatched up the coffee things and clumped to the door. She turned around there, addressing me with sorrowful reproach.

"I was just doing my job, Mr. Rainstar. I'm responsible for your health, you know."

"I know," I said, "and I'm grateful."

"It would be easier for me if I
wasn't
so conscientious. My salary would be the same, and it would be a lot easier for me, if I didn't do-"

"I'd better leave," said Manny, picking up her purse.

"And I think you'd better not!" I said. "I think Miss Nolton had better leave-right this minute!"

Kay left, slamming the door behind her. I smiled apologetically at Manny.

"I'm sorry," I said. "She's a very nice young woman, and she's very good at her job. But sometimes…"

"Mmm. I'll just bet she is!" Manny said, and then, with a small diffident gesture, "I want to tell you something, and it's, well, not easy for me. Could you come a little closer please?"

"Of course," I said, and I moved over to her side on the love seat. I waited, and her lips parted, then closed again. And she looked at me helplessly, apparently unable to find the words for what she wanted to say.

I told her gently to take her time, we had all the time in the world; and then, by way of easing her tenseness, I asked her if she remembered the last time we had been in this room together.

"It was months ago, and I thought I'd lost the pamphlet-writing job before I even had it. So I was sitting here with my head in my hands, feeling sorry as hell for myself. And I wasn't aware that you'd come into the room until-"

"Of course, I remember!" She clapped her hands delightedly. "You looked like this"-she puffed her cheeks out and rolled her eyes inward in a hilarious caricature of despair. "That's just the way you looked, darling. And then I said: "Lo, the Poor Indian", we said in unison. "Lo, the Poor Indian"

We laughed, and smiled at each other. She took my month's retainer from her purse and gave it to me, and we went on smiling at one another. And she spoke to me in a voice as soft and tender as her smile.

"Poor Lo. How are you, my dearest darling?"

"Well, you know"-I shrugged. "For a guy who's been shot out of the saddle a few times, not bad, not bad at all."

"I'm sorry, Britt. Terribly, terribly sorry. That's what I was trying to tell you. I haven't been myself. At least, I hope the self I've been showing wasn't the real Manuela Aloe, but I'm going to be all right now. I-I-"

"Of course, you're going to be all right," I said. "I pulled a lousy trick on you, and you paid me off for it. So now we're all even- steven."

"Nothing more will happen to you, Britt! I swear it won't."

"Didn't I just say so?" I said. "Now, be a nice girl and say no more about it, and start reading these beautiful words I've written for you."

She said, All right, Britt, swallowing heavily, eyes shining too brightly. Then the tears brimmed over, and she began to weep silently and I hastily looked away. Because I'd never known what to do when a woman started crying, and I particularly didn't know what to do when the woman was Manny.

"Aah, Britt," she said tremulously. "How could I ever have been mean to anyone as nice as you?"

"Doggone it, everyone keeps asking me that!" I said. "And what the heck can I tell them?"

She laughed tearily. She said, "Britt, oh, Britt, my darling!" and then she broke down completely, great sobs tearing through her body.

I held her and patted her head, and that sort of thing. I took out my breast-pocket handkerchief and dabbed her eyes, and honked her nose in it. Conscious that there was something a little nutty about performing such chores for a girl who had almost killed me, even though she hadn't meant to. Conscious that I again might be playing the chump, and, at the moment, not really caring if I was.

I crossed to my desk, and began putting the pages I had written into an envelope. I took my time about it, giving her time to pull herself together. Rattling on with some backhanded kidding to brighten things up.

"Now, hear me," I said. "I don't want you looking at this bawling and honking your schnozzle, and being so disgustingly messy. Us Noble Redmen don't put up with such white-eye tricks, get me, you silly squaw?"

"G-gotcha…" A small and shaky snicker. "Silly squaw always gets Noble Redman."

"Well, I just hope you're not speaking with a forked tongue," I said. "These are very precious words, lovingly typed on top grade erasable-bond paper, and God pity you if you louse them up."

"All right, Britt…"

She did sound like she was, so I turned back around. I helped her up from the love seat, gave her a small pat on the bottom and pressed the envelope into her hands. As I walked her to the front door, I told her a little about the manuscript and said that I would look forward to hearing from her about it. She said that I would, no later than the day after the morrow.

"No, wait a minute," she said. "Today's Friday, isn't it?"

"All day, I believe."

"Let's make it Monday, then. I'll see you Monday."

"No one should ever see anyone on Monday," I said. "Let's make it Tuesday."

We settled on a Tuesday P.M. meeting. Pausing at the front door she glanced out to where her own car stood in the driveway and asked what had happened to mine. "I hope the company hasn't pulled another booboo and come out and gotten it, Britt. After all the stupid mix-ups we've had in the past, that would be a little too much."

"No, no," I said. "Everything is as it should be. I believe that exposure to the elements is good for a car, helps it to grow strong and tough, you know. But since I haven't been using it these several weeks, I locked it up in the garage."

"Yes?" She looked up at me curiously. "But you get out a little bit, don't you? You don't stay in the house all the time?"

"That's what I do," I said "Doctor's orders. I think it's pretty extreme, but…" I shrugged, leaving the sentence unfinished.

Again, she gave me a curious frown. "Very strange," she murmured, a slight chill coming into her voice. "I was certain that the doctors would want you to get a little fresh air and sunshine."

I said that, Oh, well, she knew how doctors were, knowing that it sounded pretty feeble. Actually, of course, it was not the doctors but Claggett who had absolutely forbidden me to leave the house.

Manny said, Yes, she did know how doctors were. "I'll say good-bye here, then. I wouldn't want you to go against orders by walking to my car with me."

"Oh, now, wait a minute," I said, taking a quick look over my shoulder. "Of course, I'll walk to the car with you."

I tucked her arm through mine, and we crossed the porch and started down the steps.

We descended to the driveway and sauntered the few steps to her car. I helped her into it, and closed the door quietly.

Mrs. Olmstead was out shopping per usual, so she could not reveal my sneaking out of the house. But I was fearful that Kay might spot me, and come storming out to yank me back inside again.

"Well, good-bye, darling," I said, and I stooped and hastily kissed Manny. "Take care, and I'll see you Tuesday."

"Wait, Britt. Please!"

"Yes?" I threw another quick glance over my shoulder. "I love being with you, dear, but I really shouldn't be standing out here."

"It's just me, isn't it? You're afraid of being here with me."

"Dammit, no," I said. "That isn't it at all. It's just that, I-"

"I told you nothing more would happen to you, Britt. I'm all right now, and there'll never be anything like that again, and-Don't you believe me?"

Her voice broke and she turned her head quickly, looking at the scantily populated countryside across the road. There were a few houses scattered over a wide area, and land had been graded for a number of others. But everything had come to a halt with the advent of the garbage dump on former Rainstar property.

"Manny," I said. "Listen to me. Please listen to me, Manny."

"Well?" She faced me again, but slowly, her gaze still lingering on the near-empty expanse beyond the road, seeming to search for something there. "Yes, Britt?"

"I'm not afraid of being here with you at all. You said that nothing more would happen to me, and I believe you. It's just that I'm supposed to stay in the house-not to come outside at all. And I'm afraid there'll be a hell of a brouhaha if-"

"But you've been going out." Manny smiled at me thinly. "You've been going out and staying out for hours."

"What?" I said. "Why do you say that?"

"Why?" she said. "Yes, why do I? I've certainly no right to make an issue of it."

And before I could say anything more, she nodded coldly and drove away.

I looked after her, as her car sped down the driveway and turned into the road, became lost in the dust of the ubiquitous dump trucks wending their way toward the garbage hummocks.

I turned away, vaguely troubled, and moved absently toward the porch.

I went up the steps, still discomfited and puzzled by Manny's attitude, but grateful that Kay had not discovered me in my fracture of a strict order. One of the few unhappy aspects of sex is that it places you much too close physically while you are still mentally poles apart. So that a categorical imperative is apt to be juxtaposed with a constitutional impossibility, for how can one kick someone- or part of someone- that he has laved with love.

I couldn't face up to the consequences of Kay Nolton's throwing her weight around with me again. No sadist I, I could not slug the provably and delightfully screwable.

I reached the top step, and-

There was a sudden angry sound at my ear, the
buzz
of a maddened hornet. The hornet zoomed in and stung me painfully on the forehead, the sting burning like acid.

I slapped at it, then rubbed the tortured flesh with my fingers. As a boy, growing up on the old place, I had been "hit" by hornets many times. But I could remember none having the effect of this one.

It was numbing, almost as if I had been hit by an instrument that was at once edged and blunt. I felt a little dizzy and faint, and-

I took my hand away from my head.

I stared at it stupidly.

It was red and wet, dripping with blood, and more blood was dripping down onto the age-faded wood of the porch.

My knees buckled slowly, and I sank down to them. My eyes closed, and I slowly toppled over and lay prone.

My last thought, before I lost consciousness, was of Manny. Her indirect insistence that I accompany her to her car. The hurt in her voice and her eyes when I had hesitated about leaving the safety of the house-hurt which I could only expunge by doing what I had been sternly ordered not to do.

So I had done as she wanted, because I loved her and believed in her.

And then, loving and trusting her, I had remained out in the open exposed to the danger which is always latent in loving and trusting.

I had lingered at the side of her car, pleading with her. And she had sat with her back turned to me, her gaze searching the landscape, apparently searching it for…? A signal? A rifle, say, with a telescopic sight.

I heard myself laugh, even as the very last of my consciousness glimmered away. Because, you see, it was really terribly funny. Almost as funny as it was sad.

I had always shunned guns, always maintaining that guns had been known to kill people and even defenseless animals, and that those who fooled around with guns had holes in their heads. And now, I… I… I had been… and I had a hole in my…