Unknown, p.11
Unknown, page 11
"No, you don't understand You see, Z is two taps, and then six.
Twenty-six, get it? And 0 would he'L- he studied the paper- "one, and then five. Pretty smart, huh?"
"It would still take all night, and I have thiny other patients to worry about." He looked again at his watch. 'And rounds to make before bedtime. No, I think we'll keep him on the Thorazine, and I'll prescribe twenty-five milligtams of Tofranil. We can tly that for a while He walked down the hall, scribbling in his notebook The orderly remained in the doorway of the room, staring at the man on the bed. The man on the bed stared back In the living room Herb Rosenzweig was trying to organize a game. Faces turned as George entered.
" We missed you, George. Thought you'd fallen in!"
He grinned sheepishly and moved toward the bar, both flattered and annoyed that his absence had been noted. Couldn't these people fend for themselves? It wasn't as if they were all strangers to one another.
"Herb here thought you'd been eaten by a bear!"
"That's what I told'em, George."
George shrugged." No such luck. I think it was what I ate!"
Amid their laughter Phyllis called, "Now, don't put ideas in their heads, or nobody'll finish the quiche. I spent all day making it." She pointed to the plates of hors d'oeuvres by the bar." And you people aren't eating the sausages," she chided." They'll just lie there in the refrigerator if no one eats them."
A few guests, cowed, shuffled toward the food. Cissy called to him from across the room." We're going to tell our fortunes, George.
You're just in time. Herb has a pack of cards."
"A Tarot deck," said Herb, pronouncing the final t. "I found it up in your attic, in one of the trunks." He held forth a green cardboard box decorated with line drawings and the words Grand Etteilla. Cellophane still clung to the sides." I wanted to see what they looked like," he explained." Hope you don't mind. I don't think the pack had ever been opened before."
"Do you know how to use them?"
French."
"I'm a little rusty myself," George was saying, but Milton interrupted him.
"Ellie's a whiz at French. Christ, you should've seen her over there, last summer. They thought she was a native." He snatched the booklet from Herb's hand and gave it to his wife." Go ahead, what's it say?"
"Oh, this is easy," she said." 'Manidre de Tirer le Grand Etteilla ou Tarots Effptiens, Composd de Soixante-dix-huit Cartes Illustrdes." Well, you can pick that up, can't you?"
"Something about Egyptian cards," said Frances.
" Does it say how to lay them out?" asked Herb.
Ellie flipped through the pages." Hmm, there aren't any diagrams.
Pretty cheap. There's something in the front, though. 'To use the cards, it is necessary first to strike the game by the person who..
."' She paused in her reading." Oh, I see. The person whose fortune's being told has to hit the cards with his left hand."
"Whose fortune's being told?" asked George, without much interest.
Anything, though, to amuse the guests…
Herb shrugged." We can try Tommie's, if she wants. Does it say how to spread them?"
"I wish I could remember how Joan Blondell did them in Nightmare Alley," said Ellie." All I remember is, she kept turning up the death card for Tyrone Power."
" The Hanged Man," said Cissy, with a nervous little laugh.
"Mmm, that's right. Well, let's see." Ellie squinted at the booklet.
"Oh boy, this is so complicated… I don't know if it's worth it. It'll take half an hour to set up."
"Aw, forget it then," said Herb, already casting about for new games to play.
Tammie put her arm around him." From now on we'll stick to fortune cookies."
George watched the group begin falling away around him, dissolying into small clots of conversation, but Phyllis picked up her cue.
"Why don't we do it the fast way? We'll all pick a card, and that'll be our fortune. Here, give me, I'll shuffle."
For tradition's sake she rapped once on the box, and the cards were duly passed among the guests until each held one." I feel as though we're about to play bingo!" said Fred Weingast, puzzling over his card." What is this, anyway? It's The Three of something, I can tell, but what are they? Dinner plates?"
Harold peered over his shoulder." That's it-The Three of Dinner Plates!"
"They look like coins to me," said Weingast's wife.
Ellie was leafing through the booklet." No," she said, "they're pentacies. See? A five-pointed star inside each circle."
" What's it supposed to mean?"
"Let's see. Okay, here we go." She looked up at Weingast and smiled mysteriously, then turned to the text." 'A person noble and distinguished-' "
"Hey, that's me to a T!" shouted Weingast.
Ellie waited for the laughter to subside, then continued." Sorry, people, but you've got it wrong. Listen. 'A person noble and distinguished has need of silver-uh, money-and you should lend it to him." "
Immediately, and predictably, Harold scurried over and slapped him on the back." Fred, old pal, how about it?"
There were several paragraphs of text still to read, but the gag had run its course. Ellie turned to the rest." Okay, kids, who's next?"
Ignoring the drunken cries of "Me-me-me-me," she reached for Frances' card. In smeary lithograph it depicted a small blond boy holding a gold chalice; the background was pastoral, with dark green hills and a waterfall." Oh, a picture card," she said." Maybe that means it's important." She squinted down at the text." Apparently he's The Page of Cups. Sort of like The Jack of Diamonds, I guess. 'Have confidence absolute,' it says-absolute confidence-'in the young man blond that you offers… that offers you his service." Gee, Frannie, who do you know who's blond?"
Harold answered for her." Damn it, I'll bet it's that delivery boy!"
He made a big show of being the cuckolded husband, which all but Frances found amusing.
"Do Phyllis next," suggested someone.
" Yeah, come on, do Phyllis." The others took up the chant.
Phyllis squirmed like a little girl asked to make a birthday speech.
"No," she said, smiling nervously, "really, I don't want to hear mine. I always believe in fortunes, and they're always bad." She hid the card behind her back." Do George's first."
Ellie shrugged." Okay, then, let me see it." She held out her hand.
" But I haven't got a card," said George.
"Too busy playing the proper host," said Milton. He picked up the pile of cards." Come on, there's more than half the pack left. Take one."
" Close your eyes first," added Herb.
George sighed." Okay, okay. But I'm telling you, the guests are supposed to come first." He took the cards from Milton and shuffled through them, eyes shut. He lifted one from the middle of the deck 100 and looked down at it." Good God!" He slipped it back in the deck and continued to shuffle.
"Hey," cried Ellie." I saw that. No fair. You cheated!"
"He's entitled," said Bernie." I mean, it's his house, right?"
The other guests had lost interest in all fortunes but their own; some had wandered over to the bar. Ellie, however, wasn't mollified.
"I'll bet he had The Hanged Man. Isn't that right, George? Just like in the movie?"
"Just like in the movie," said George, his eyes shut." Here, give me a reading on this one." He drew forth a card and handed it to her.
"The Eight of Wands," she said." 'Learning a trade or a profession.
Employment or commission to come. Skill in affairs-in material affairs." I'm afraid that's a pretty general one."
"Well, it's not so far off," said Milton." George is skilled in material affairs."
Herb shrugged." Yeah, but so are we all. I mean, this kind of stuff could apply to anyone here. It's really no better than that column in the News. You know, The Stargazer's Prophecy, or something like that.
My secretary lives by it."
George had moved away from them. He stood by one of the windows, staring out at the night, trying to disguise the pain in his stomach.
Because of the light inside it was impossible to see well, but he could hear the tapping of dead leaves against the glass. He heard, too, a few of the women squealing over Phyllis's card, The Lovers, and he thought of the one he had drawn forth, and had returned to the deck so hurriedly after the briefest glimpse-an amorphous mass of gray, like the back of some huge animal, illuminated as if by moonlight. It had seemed disturbingly familiar. Amid the babble of voices its memory was already beginning to fade, but not the uneasiness it had aroused, the vague, half-buried guilt… With a start he noticed his own reflection in the window, and saw the savage twist of his mouth. He smoothed back his hair, smiled, and turned back to the company.
Entropy had set in. All but a few had tired of the game and had once again broken into smaller groups, those most bored drifting toward the bar like sediment to the bottom of a pond. Sidney Gerdts was holding forth to the Goodhues and the Fitzgeralds-the fall of the dollar, or perhaps the rise of crime-and Phyllis was trying to get Paul Strauss to talk to poor Cissy Hawkins. Fred Weingast was making himself another drink. Over by the corner Herb and Milton sat on the couch comparing the achievements of their children. Others had wandered off to the kitchen and library. For the time being they all seemed occupied; he passed among them unnoticed, on his way back to the bathroom.
"I've never seen him like this," Herb was saying." He's been so evasive. Usually he'll brag about a smart deal till you're sick of listening, but this time he played modest with me. I could tell something was funny the minute I came in."
"You mean that bit about 'just lucky, I guess'? Jesus, wasn't that something!" Milton shook his head.
"Yeah, all he'd say was the guy went a little ga-ga and sold him this place for a song."
"Is that what he told you?"
"That was it. But, well, you seem to know a bit more about what really went on."
Milton stared down into his glass, watching the ice cubes shrink and change shape." Well, I don't know all that much."
"Aw, come on. I hear you've been riding him about it all night."
"Maybe I've sobered up a little since then."
"Aw, hell, you know I'll keep this to myself."
He studied Herb's face, and saw the endless cocktails of expenseaccount lunches, the daily betrayals disguised as good fellowship.
Herb would make a good story out of this.
"How about it?"
"Well Milton watche'd George sidle through the room and head upstairs."
Okay, why not?"
In the room upstairs Walter slept fitfully. A floorboard groaned outside the door-George on his way up the hall-and was echoed by the huge limb of an elm beyond the window. Walter turned heavily onto his side, buried his face in the pillow, and slept on, one hand twisting a wrinkle of quilt as if clenched upon a steering wheel.
The women on the couch had begun talking about food costs, and Tammie was bored. It took parties like this to remind her that she preferred the company of men." I'm sure they are better for you," Janet Mulholland was saying, "but the prices they charge in those health food stores are outrageous." Tammie looked around for her husband; he was in the corner by the window, talking with Milt Brackman. Pretty soon they'd be swapping dirty jokes.
A bridge table had been set up near the bar, piled high with paper plates and plastic forks. Big Mike Carlinsky was bent over it, showing something to his fianc6e-what was her name? Gail.
"You want your fortune done?" He smiled up as Tammie strolled over; Gail looked at her coldly." According to this, I'm gonna have five kids, but Gail's only gonna have two!" Laughing, he pointed to an open page in the booklet, but Tammie couldn't read a word of French.
"You still got your card?"
The green box lay next to an empty hor d'oeuvres platter, Tarot cards piled haphazardly beside it where guests had left them. The top card showed a stone tower crumbling as a bolt of lightning hit it. In the background the sea raged furiously.
"No, I put mine back in the box. There were just too many people ahead of me. But let's see, I think I can find it again." She began sorting through the deck, aware that Mike's eyes were on her; he was probably trying to decide if she was wearing a bra." Hey, look at this," she said, producing the picture of a regal woman." I like this one better than my own card! What's it mean?"
"The Queen of Swords," said Gail." You're not allowed to choose, you know. You can't just pick the prettiest card and say you want it." She looked guardedly at her fiance.
He was already flipping through the booklet." Queen of Swords, huh?
Sounds dangerous." He stopped and read to himself, lips moving."
Something about old age, I think." Tammie stiffened.
"Isn't 'vielle' the word for old?" He saw she wasn't grinning, and his own grin faded." But apparently it means one thing if you hold it one way and something else if it's upside down."
" It was right side up, wasn't it?" said Gail.
"The other way," he went on, "it means the woman tyrannizes her husband.
Hhmm! Poor old Herb! And I always thought he wore the pants."
Tammie forced a laugh." Oh, I let him think so, that's all!" She looked over at her husband, still deep in conversation with Milton.
"Now I want to find the card I really picked."
She scanned the pack. Most of the cards were bare but for groups of symbols-seven cups, four pentagrams, a series of sticklike objects-reminding her of the canasta deck at home. But some of them bore full-color illustrations, archetypes even she could respond to.
"This is nice. A chariot, I guess. Ugh! Here's Death." The skeleton leaned casually on his scythe." I thought The Hanged Man was supposed to be the death card."
"I guess not," said Gail." See? Here it is." She turned the card upside down, so that the figure stared at them." And, see, he's smiling."
"What's this one?" asked Mike." Looks like a phallic symbol, doesn't it!" He glanced at Tammie. The card showed an enormous hand emerging godlike from the clouds, clasping an upright stick.
"That's the Ace of Wands," said Gail. And, in explanation: "I've got a paperback at home. I haven't bought the cards yet, though. I've seen much prettier decks than this. Remember, Mike? Down in the Village?
But it seemed like a waste of money."
"Mmm." He turned over some cards that had been left face down.
"Maybe I'll buy you a pack. For slow parties." He laughed guiltily.
"What do you think this one's supposed to be?"
She took it from him and stared at it. It was a night scene, with a few stars low in the background. At the center was a gray liver-shaped thing; animal, apparently, though the head was turned away." Gee, I don't think I've ever seen this kind before." She handed it back to him, not looking at it." Of course, every set is different. I like the modern ones best. Like the deck we saw that time in the Village."
Tammie studied the card for a moment, then gave a tentative smile."
Reminds me of veal cutlet!" A moment later she joined Mike's laughter, laying the card face down on the table." Do you think there are any of those cute little sausages left?"
"Well, the platter's gone, but.I can look in the fridge." He put his hand on Gail's shoulder." Be back in a second, honey."
The foot tapped against the wall, paused, then tapped eight times in succession. Seated at the foot of the bed, the orderly looked down at the paper." Eighteen, that's… P- " The foot tapped twice, then once. U Once, then four times.
"I got the story from Bart Cipriano," Nfilton was saying." He works in Commissioner Brodsky's office at the capitol, and he's buddy-buddy with George. So's Brodsky. At first I was surprised they weren't here tonight, but then I realized they'd already been to this house-and often, I'll bet. Besides, George may be just a little ashamed of them."
"Why? Who is this Brodsky?"
"He's with the State Highway Commission."
"Oh yeah, I remember hearing that George had a bit of clout in that department. Not bad for a guy with an office in New York."
"But don't forget, he's lived here in Connecticut all his life. And until a few months ago he was living right down the block from Brodsky.
Big poker players, both of them." He looked for signs of interest in the other's face. Herb's gaze never wavered." Anyway, according to Cipriano, the state had been planning a big highway up here to replace 81-"
"It's about time! The roads are so dark I damned near had an accident getting here." ,,-and it was supposed to cut right through this property." He made a slicing motion." Yep, that's right-all this land, this house, even, was right in the path of the highway. So some people were going to have to get out of the way. Not that many, of course. It's pretty underpopulated around here. Tobacco country, mainly, and a few small farms. I guess that's why they picked this place to run the road through."
"Jesus, you mean they're gonna demolish this place?"
Milton shook his head." Not so fast. Just after the notices were sent out-you know, 'Dear Sir, You've got six months to find another house,' or something like that-the crooks in the governor's office cut back funds and the whole plan was canceled. No road after all. But thanks to the usual red tape-you know how these state governments are-they decided the cutback wouldn't be official till the end of the fiscal year. Which means that, all this time, Brodsky had a letter sitting on his desk junking the project, except that he wasn't supposed to tell anyone." He paused for effect." Well, guess who he told."
" George?"
"Your friend and mine. I guess he knew that George was looking for a bigger place and, who knows?, maybe he owed him a favor. Let's not be naive-this sort of thing goes on all the time. And maybe George had something on him, I don't know. Anyway, he gave George the go-ahead. He said, in effect, Pick yourself whatever house you like from Beth Head on u to Tylersville, and we'll get it for you." He took a sip of his drink ." I expect a little money may have changed hands."
