Chapter 55 – The Meeting
Tommy climbed the front steps of the house on Church Street, rang the chimes, and waited with anticipation. Gale opened the door, gave him the evil eye, said, “You ain’t out of the woods yet, you Yankee scum,” and slammed the door in his face. After sitting with Ms. Granite, Tommy thought Gale exuded gentility, and waited.
The door opened again, this time Gale screaming obscenities at Jinny, who held her, struggling, under one arm like a mother does a beloved infant having a temper tantrum. “How ya doin’,” he said to Tommy. “C’mon in. We’re waitin’ for ya.” He led the way into the living room, Gale telling him his mother kept whole troops of Russian soldiers warm at night during the Second World War, him telling her that’s the fighting spirit that drove the hordes of German storm-troopers back out of Mother Russia; her saying his mother was a Slavic peasant, him saying yeah, but she didn’t need a knife to cut the heads off the fish she caught, tore ‘em off with her bare hands.
Tommy listened to this and started having second thoughts about his new friends. He was giving up his job for this?
That train of thought evaporated when he entered the living room, saw me and Richard sitting on the sofa, and the dog lying on the carpet under the painting. Yes, there it was, the stolen, er pinched, work of art. And there she was, Gwendolyn Bedgewood, now dressed in a new outfit, a shimmering emerald green affair with gold lace at the collar, cuffs, and placket. When I asked her how she did that she answered, “It’s in the cloud,” which still didn’t mean much to me, but again I told myself not to get distracted by things like that right now.
He stood in front of the painting, looking it over, smiling because of the $350K he was going to get and the Jag he was going to buy with it, when Gwendy said to the others, “Isn’t someone going to introduce us. This boy’s giving me the once-over, and he’s got me at a disadvantage.”
Gale’s feet still weren’t touching the floor, she still was wriggling under Jinny’s arm, and she said, “Put me down, you big Russian ape. If I introduce the scumbag to her maybe he’ll stop sniffing around after Gwen.” Jinny set her down and she said, “This is Gwendolyn Bedgewood, 1805 to 1859. Gwendy, this is the Yankee from New York, Tommy ‘The Homewrecker’ Crown.”
Gwendy looked at Tommy for a minute, then said to Gale, “Did you have to mention my death date, dearie?”
“Oh, sorry.”
“That’s ok, I’m still kicking, after a manner. Pleased to meet you, Sir. I’ve heard a lot about you.” Now it was her that gave him the once-over. She looked at me and said, “I had no idea they made ‘em like this up north. You sure he isn’t from Savannah?”
I said, “You heard him talk. That sound like Savannah?”
She said, “To think, all those years I dismissed them out of hand. What was I thinking?”
Now Gale launched again, “You were thinking of honor, integrity, politeness, and the capability to hold your liquor. The code of the south. In other words, everything this shitheel from New Yawk ain’t.”
The dog said, “Gale, can it, you’re getting on my nerves, and we got stuff to work out around here. Roger gets home in a week, and we need to avoid bloodshed.”
Everyone looked at him, he sat stone faced for a moment, then said, “Just kidding. But we do have important work to do, right?”
I nodded and said, “We do. But before we tackle that, we need to get to know each other a little, first. Sit down,” motioning to Tommy, Gale, and Jinny. Jinny sat on the piano bench, his usual perch, while Tommy and Gale sat on the French Fauteuils armchairs. I went on, looking from Tommy to Gwendy, “I’m glad you’ve met, because I know you’ve wanted to meet each other for a few weeks now. Gwendy, you know what Tommy’s been after, and Tommy you know what she’s been after.”
Gale said, “Yeah, she’s been after his ass, just like you.”
The dog said, “C’mon, hon, like you’re not interested. If it’s got three legs, you’re interested.”
“I’m interested if he’s got two out of four. Gotta have at least two out of four.”
“Two out of four, what?” asked Jinny.
“Southern qualities: honor, integrity, politeness, and can hold his booze.”
Gwendy said, “Only two, dear? In my day we thought in terms of three. Three out of the four.”
“Entropy,” said the dog.
“What’s entropy?” Richard asked, him being a novelist and not well educated about science.
“It’s the tendency of the natural world to devolve from a state of order to disorder. So in the case of humans, mating standards have slipped from three of the criteria to two. And in the bigger scheme of things, species superiority has devolved from canine to human.”
Jinny looked at the dog and said, “Are you saying dogs were over people, back in time?”
“Oh, yeah. You think a prehensile thumb and bi-pedalism are advances, but they don’t do much for you when you’re chasing a rabbit. And then there's the really important point.”
“What’s that?”
The dog looked around the room, deliberating, then said, “I’m not sure we should discuss that in mixed company.”
Gale and I looked at Gwendy, then at the dog, and I motioned him to continue, this sounding interesting.
Now he looked at Jinny and Tommy and Richard, smirking, and motioned them over to the far corner of the living room near the floor to ceiling bookcases. The three guys bent down to his level, we heard a whisper, and they broke out into a combination of chuckling and laughter. They came back, sat down, looked at the floor, hiding smiles.
I said, “Well?” This kicked them into a fit of laughter, acting like school boys talking about seeing some underwear on a girl on a swing at recess. The meaning of their collusion in the corner was not lost on the three of us. I said, “So you four morons think inventing that is the mark of canine superiority?”
More laughter. I motioned Gale over to the painting, and now they heard us whispering. After a minute Gale and I returned to our seats, and Gwendy said, “That was a tactical error, guys. You know the reality of the world. You know we control everything about sex; well, at least these two do. You know we rule. And now you’ve made a mistake in that department for which you will pay, later.”
Richard said, “Huh? How? You’re not our partners. You have no control over us.”
Gale said, “Specials aren’t the only ones who are connected to each other through a cloud. We’ll be in touch with your partners, and you will pay.”
The four guys looked at each other, and the dog said, “Shit.”
The other three looked at the dog and said, “Way to go. Thanks a lot.”
In a calm and settling voice Gwendy said to Tommy, “I’ve been wanting to meet you because Gwenny likes you, finds something special about you, and she’s me, today. She’s how I can feel, if you’ll pardon the expression, more alive. But at the same time I’m a little scared of you because you want to put me back into the museum.”
Tommy squirmed a little in his hundred and fifty year old chair, and said, “It was nothing personal. That was my job. And that was before I met him,” nodding at the dog, “and found out about specials. And before I met her,” nodding at me. “And now I’ve met you, and you’re special, and so, so, I’m confused. But I don’t think you have to be afraid of me anymore.”
Gale, still alert for any chink in Tommy’s armor into which she could stick a stick, said, “What do you mean, ‘Was your job’?’”
Tommy looked at me and asked, “Is it too early for stingers?” I nodded, Yes, and he went on, “My boss is here. She came down from New York to check on what I’ve been doing, and she’s not happy, gave me a lot of shit. So....”
“So, what?” said Gale. “Oh, god, don’t tell me you quit?” He nodded, Yes, and she jumped up from her chair, started screaming, “No you don’t, you rat, you’re not staying around here. Roger’s going
to tear you limb from limb. One week, that’s the time you have left before you go and join her world,” nodding at Gwendy, “only I doubt they’ll let you in, you not having enough of the southern qualities for acceptance, only the good drinker one, and your smarmy good looks are not going to get you very far in that world where touch is hard to come by, and with people slamming doors in your face when they hear that hideous accent of yours, and....”
At this point Jinny got up, crossed to where she was looming over Tommy in his chair, grabbed her and took her back to the piano bench where he sat her on his lap and clapped a paw over her mouth. She sat there wriggling, which most guys would pay a lot of money to experience, her being Gale, but Jinny was immune, this not being a combination of his morning testosterone dump coupled with alcohol.
A look of relief washed over Gwendy’s face, and she said, “Oh lovely, now we all can be friends.”
I didn’t need to ask what Tommy meant when he said, ‘That was my job.’ I knew.
He went on, talking to Gwendy, “So lots has changed since I’ve been here, and I’m not going to do anything you don’t want.” He looked over at Gale and said, “And I’m not trying to do anything with her,” nodding at me, “that she doesn’t want, and I know she loves Roger.”
This caused Gale to stop wriggling on Jinny’s lap and biting his hand, which didn’t result in him removing his hand from her mouth, said hand being made of material tougher than cowhide, though not tough enough to tear the heads off fish, like his mother. She elbowed him in his stomach, which was like hitting a pine tree, but which nonetheless caused him to let her climb off his lap like a kid who'd been playing with her father. She slowly walked across the room, bent down, and planted a salacious kiss on Tommy’s mouth that rocked his world.
The dog looked at Jinny and Richard and said, “The move developed by my ancestors thousands of years ago when we were ascendant ain’t far off for those two, if I’m not mistaken. And he lay down under the painting, thinking of his own somewhat spartan love life.
I looked from one friend to another, and rested my head on the back of the sofa, thinking, ‘Ain’t life wonderful, and Roger gets home soon.’ I looked at my watch which showed three pm, and said, “So we’re all friends again. We still have some serious work to do, but I think we can have cocktails and still get it done. Ok?”
Everyone said, “Thank god. Ok.”
Gwenny June's Tommy Crown Affair Page 55
