There were conversations of which he understood hardly a word:
‘Well I’m doing Rolfing now, but I was heavy into oneness training.’
‘Connections, I know. I had this gestalt thing to work through with my family, you know? And—’
‘Yeah how is Jaynice, anyway?’
‘She’s more in touch with herself now only — I don’t know, maybe familying just isn’t her mind-set.’
‘Too many tight synapses, I felt just like that after Transactioning, I kept noticing my own tight synapses. I’m gonna try Science of Mind training next, or haptics maybe, you gotta try something…’
‘Nodally it’s probably all oned together anyway.’
‘…yeah…’
‘…yeah, synergy is. Isn’t it?’
‘Yeah. Oh waiter? We’re ready to order here.’
He would take this order and move on to an alcove where two women, having spread paper napkins on the table between them, opened their jewelled pillboxes and set out arrays of coloured pills as though arranging beads for a barter, which, in a sense they were.
‘Oh is that pink one Thanidorm or Toxidol?’
‘That’s Yegrin. Oh you mean this bitty pink one, that’s Zombutal, beautiful, you want one?’
‘Thanks, kid, now let’s see what I got here to trade, these green ones are Valsed, the light green are Quasipoise, and the green two-tone are I forget, either Jitavert or Robutyl. The red must be Normadorms.’
‘Is that like Penserons?’
‘Only stronger, you want a couple? Or hey I got these terrific mood flatteners called what is it? Parasol? Here this yellow one. Or is that Invidon? Sometimes I get so mixed up…’
‘…me too… I need something…’ Well-manicured nails the colour of Bing cherries selected a capsule of the same colour and carried it to lips of the same colour. ‘A Eulepton.’
‘Was that a Eulepton? I thought it was a Barbidol… I get so mixed up…’
‘Me too…’
Then to the kitchen where Mr Danton would twist his arm and threaten him, then back with a heavy tray to meet another territorial Sealyham, another angry pit-bull.
‘Is it Sue Jane that’s married to Ronnie now? I get so mixed up talking about Sue and her pals, all those divorces and all…’
‘Well, it really boils down to three men and three women, and they been married in every possible legal way to each other, eight weddings in all. And none of them married anybody else…’
‘You take Clarence now, he was his first wife’s first husband, his second wife’s second, and his third wife’s third!’
‘That’s nothing. Vern’s third wife’s third husband’s third wife is the same person as his second wife’s second husband’s second wife, how do you like that?’
‘…divorced the sister of… and right away married Mary Sue, who was single. But his ex bounced back just as fast, she married the guy who’d just split up with…’
‘Sure sure but what I want to know is, who was Sue Ellen’s third husband?’
Roderick, leaning over to polish the table, murmured what he thought was the answer.[2]
The people at the table looked at him. ‘You know them or something?’
‘No, I just wanted to help. I—’
‘Nobody invited you to butt in, asshole,’ said the owner of a Yorkie now devouring a bowl of goose liver.
‘But I just thought — if everything you all said was true—’
‘You calling us liars?’
‘No I — sorry, I’m sorry.’ He backed away, stepping on a coil of dogshit, tripping over a leash as he fled the dining room. He wished everyone sliced thin and fed to to their own pets who would in turn crumple slowly with looks of surprise as he shot them dead, very dead… no one would miss the human species or the canine either, least of all Roderick the victorious.
An hour later, a woman smiled at him and told him he was a sweet boy. That changed everything: he cancelled the extermination of two species and decided to go dancing instead. But first another try at University Hospital.
‘Daniel Sonnenschein,’ he said to the receptionist. ‘I’m his stepson, and I demand to see him.’
‘Certainly, sir. Just take a seat.’
Two hours later, Roderick was told that visiting hours were over for the day. A pair of security cops did the telling, and showed him how to get out of the building.
IV
The figure performed its purpose admirably. Keeping perfect time and step, and holding its little partner tight clasped in an unyielding embrace, it revolved steadily, pouring forth at the same time a constant flow of squeaky conversation, broken by brief intervals of grinding silence.
The Escorial Ballroom was a large gloomy place where a few tired-looking couples leaned together, shuffling slowly around the floor to The Tennessee Waltz. The three white-haired musicians chatted and drank as they played, and the drummer was eating his lunch with one hand. The dancers seemed not much younger or more interested in anything: the men wore old suits and sideburns, the women wore flared dresses, heavy makeup and large earrings.
While Roderick was standing at the edge of the dark dance floor trying to figure out what to do next, he felt a little bump at the rear of his crotch. He turned to see a plump woman with heavy makeup and large earrings. She was examining her thumbnail and frowning.
‘Jesus, try to give somebody a friendly goose and you run into — what you got there, iron underpants?’
‘I’m sorry, are you hurt?’
‘Busted nail. Oh well, I could’ve done it opening a can of sardines, and I don’t even like sardines. You dancing?’
‘Well I, I’m not sure, I—’
She seized him. ‘You’re dancing.’
She had a deep, pleasant laugh, blonde hair going dark at the roots, and her name was Ida. She didn’t seem to mind that Roderick couldn’t dance at all.
‘Don’t worry, kid, you’ll pick it up. None of you young kids know anything about slow dancing.’
‘Well no I don’t — oops. Sorry.’
‘It’s okay. I guess you came here for the Auks, they come on later.’
‘The Auks?’
She looked him over. ‘If you never heard of the Auks, you must be older than you look. Or else, Roderick, you haven’t been around much.’
‘No I guess I — oops. Sorry.’
‘You been in the slammer, kid?’
‘Jail? Not lately I mean no, I—’
She squeezed at his shoulder. ‘Never mind, lover, it don’t matter to me. Tell me your hard-luck story if you want, or tell me nothing, all the same to me. But you got slammer written all over you, that pale, pasty look, that weird short haircut, the kinda lost look you got, like you’re afraid you’re gonna make some wrong move and end up back inside.’ She looked serious for a moment. ‘Hey you fixed all right for bread? Because if you’re broke, I can let you have a coupla bucks till you get a job.’
Roderick was so astonished that he tripped and nearly fell. ‘Sorry! Do you mean you would lend money to a perfect stranger?’
She grinned. ‘Nobody’s perfect. A good stranger’ll do.’
‘I’ll be damned. Well well.’ After a few moments he said, ‘Well I don’t, but thanks. Thanks a lot, Ida.’
The dance ended. Ida started fiddling with her earring. ‘On the other hand if you’re flush, you might buy a girl a beer. You might even buy me a beer.’
2
p. 366 Sue Ellen’s third husband was Vern. Roderick deduced this by assuming that two of the six people in question are brother and sister (hence the six can only be married in eight different ways). The marriages took place in this order: 1. Clarence m. Sue Ellen; Vern m. Sue Jane. 2. Clarence m. Sue Jane; Vern m. Mary Sue. 3. Ronnie m. Mary Sue. 4. Clarence m. Mary Sue; Ronnie m. Sue Ellen. 5. Vern m. Sue Ellen.
The siblings, Ronnie and Sue Jane, did not marry.