a double dry martini. Allerton had rum and Coke. Lee began talking about telepathy.
'I know telepathy to be a fact, since I have experienced it myself. I have no interest to prove it, or, in fact, to prove anything to anybody. What interests me is, how can I use it? In South America at the headwaters of the Amazon grows a plant called Yage that is supposed to increase telepathic sensitivity. Medicine men use it in their work. A Colombian scientist, whose name escapes me, isolated from Yage a drug he called Telepathine. I read all this in a magazine article.
'Later I see another article—the Russians are using Yage in experiments on slave labor. It seems they want to induce states of automatic obedience and ultimately, of course, thought control. The basic con. No build-up, no spiel, no routine, just move in on someone's psyche and give orders. I have a theory the Mayan priests developed a form of one-way telepathy to con the peasants into doing all the work. The deal is certain to backfire eventually, because telepathy is not of its nature a one-way setup, nor a setup of sender and receiver at all.
'By now the U.S. is experimenting with Yage, unless they are dumber even than I think. Yage may be a means to usable knowledge of telepathy. Anything that can be accomplished chemically can be accomplished in other ways.' Lee saw that Allerton was not especially interested, and dropped the subject.
'Did you read about the old Jew who tried to smuggle out ten pounds of gold sewed in his overcoat?'
'No. What about it?'
'Well, this old Jew was nailed at the airport on his way to Cuba. I hear they got like a mine finder out at the airport rings a bell if anybody passes the gate with an outlandish quantity of metal on his person. So it says in the papers, after they give this Jew a shake and find the gold, a large number of Jewish-looking foreigners were seen looking into the airport window in a state of excitement. 'Oy, gefilte fish! They are putting the snatch on Abe!' Back in Roman times the Jews rose up—in Jerusalem I think it was—and killed fifty thousand Romans. The she-Jews—that is, the young Jewish ladies, I must be careful not to lay myself open to a charge of anti-Semitism—
done strip teases with Roman intestines.
'Speaking of intestines, did I ever tell you about my friend Reggie? One of the unsung heroes of British Intelligence. Lost his ass and ten feet of lower intestine in the service. Lived for years disguised as an Arab boy known only as 'Number 69' at headquarters. That was wishful thinking, though, because the Arabs are strictly one way. Well, a rare Oriental disease set in, and poor Reggie lost the bulk of his tripes. For God and country, what? He didn't want any speeches, any medals, just to know that he had served, that was enough. Think of those patient years, waiting for another piece of the jigsaw puzzle to fall into place.
'You never hear of operators like Reggie, but it is their information, gathered in pain and danger, that gives some front-line general the plan for a brilliant counter-offensive and covers his chest with medals. For example, Reggie was the first to guess the enemy was running short of petrol when the K. Y. jelly gave out, and that was only one of his brilliant coups. How about the T-bone steak for two?'
'That's fine.'
'Rare?'
'Medium rare.'
Lee was looking at the menu. 'They list baked Alaska,' he said. 'Ever eat it?'
'No.'
'Real good. Hot on the outside and cold inside.'
'That's why they call it baked Alaska I imagine.'
'Got an idea for a new dish. Take a live pig and throw it into a very hot oven so the pig is roasted outside and when you cut into it, it's still alive and twitching inside. Or, if we run a dramatic joint, a screaming pig covered with burning brandy rushes out of the kitchen and dies right by your chair.
You can reach down and pull off the crispy, crackly ears and eat them with your cocktails.'
Outside, the City lay under a violet haze. A warm spring wind blew through the trees in the park.
They walked through the park back to Lee's place, occasionally stopping to lean against each other, weak from laughing. A Mexican said, 'Cabrones,' as he walked by. Lee called after him,
'Chinga tu madre,' then added in English, 'Here I come to your little jerkwater country and spend my good American dollars and what happens? Insulted inna public street.' The Mexican turned, hesitating, Lee unbuttoned his coat and hooked his thumb under the pistol at his waistband. The Mexican walked on.
'Someday they won't walk away,' said Lee.
At Lee's apartment they had some brandy. Lee put his arm around Allerton's shoulder.
'Well, if you insist,' said Allerton.
Sunday night Allerton had dinner at Lee's apartment. Lee cooked chicken livers, because Allerton always wanted to order chicken liver in restaurants, and usually restaurant chicken liver isn't fresh. After dinner Lee began making love to Allerton, but he rejected Lee's advances and said he wanted to go to the Ship Ahoy and drink a rum Coke. Lee turned out the light and embraced Allerton before they started out the door. Allerton's body was rigid with annoyance.
When they arrived at the Ship Ahoy, Lee went to the bar and ordered two rum Cokes. 'Make those extra strong,' he said to the bartender.
Allerton was sitting at a table with Mary. Lee brought the rum Coke over and set it down by Allerton. Then he sat down at a table with Joe Guidry. Joe Guidry had a young man with him. The young man was telling how he was treated by an Army psychiatrist. 'So what did you find out from your psychiatrist?' said Guidry. His voice had a nagging, derogatory edge.
'I found out I was an Oedipus, I found out I love my mother.'
'Why, everybody loves their mother, son,' said Guidry.
'I mean I love my mother physically.'
