figure you’ve done enough to fuck up the consciousness of millions of people with this mishmash of astrophysics and divinity that has made you so famous. Your trouble is that you’d like to sneak up on real seriousness. Well, you’ve already made your contribution. Your statement is on record.”
“You yourself have written about ‘divine sickness,’ Victor. I would suppose that any creature, regardless of his worldly status, had one ticket good for a single admission if he has suffered—if he paid his price.”
But Victor wouldn’t hear him out. He made a face so satirical, violent, so killing that Katrina would have turned away from it if it hadn’t been so extraordinary—an aspect of Victor never manifested before. He drew his lips over his teeth to imitate bare gums. He gabbled in pantomime, not a sound coming out. He let out his tongue like a dog panting. He squeezed his eyes so tight that you couldn’t see anything except the millipede brows and lashes. He put his thumbs to the sides of his head and waggled his fingers. Then he slid himself out of the booth, took up the duffel, and started for the door. Katrina, too, stood up. She held Vanessa’s fiddle in her arms, saying, “I’d apologize for him if you didn’t also know him. He’s in very bad shape, Mr. Wrangel, you can see that for yourself. Last year we nearly lost him. And he’s in pain every day. Try to remember that. I’m sorry about this. Don’t let him get to you.”
“Well, this is a lesson. Of course, it makes me very sad. Yes, I see he’s in bad shape. Yes, it’s a pity.”
It had cut him up, and Katrina’s heart went out to Wrangel. “Thank you,” she said, drawing away, turning. She hoped she didn’t look too clumsy from the rear.
Victor was waiting for her in the concourse and she spoke to him angrily. “That was bad behavior. I didn’t like being a party to it.”
“When he started on me with Daumier and Picasso, I couldn’t stand it, not a minute more of it.”
“You feel rotten and you took it out on him.”
He conceded this in silence.
“You didn’t behave well with me, either. You never said a word about your conversation with Kinglake, and whether we’re getting out of here or not.”
“He’s sending a corporate plane for us. He says it can get through.”
“Now, you know I’m in trouble if I’m stuck in Detroit overnight.”
“You’re not going to be stuck. A plane is coming for us.”
Once more, thousands of people. Nothing she could think of accounted for the sorrow she was feeling in the crowd-crazed concourse. Victor stopped beside the blazing window of a costume jewelry boutique and stared down into her face. He was speaking to her. She could not hear. Her ears seemed plugged.
“You should have told me sooner. You know my anxiety about being stuck.
“Why
Their commonplaces sting these guys without mercy, and drive them to try to be original. See how hard Wrangel was trying. He wanted me to adopt him and be his spiritual uncle or something—too old for a father. A while back I got a letter from a guy, an artist, who works in fire extinguishers. He said he was guarding the human soul from the arsonists of evil. He would never paint anything except fire extinguishers. He demanded my blessing, /have no Secret Service to protect me. I have to fend ‘em off myself.”
“All right…. Now, what are we supposed to do until the plane arrives?”
“There’s a hotel on these premises, upstairs, out of this madhouse. Kinglake has reserved a room for us.”
“Thank God! I can’t face any more shoving and pushing up and down the corridors,” said Katrina. “What kind of plane are they sending?”
“A plane. How should I know? You’re overreacting. This is not such an awful crisis. The Negro woman wouldn’t desert the kids, and there’s your sister.”
“I’ve been trying to tell you. My sister is half bonkers.”
“I had words with Kinglake about Felsher, the man who is supposed to introduce me. I said he was an old Stalinist bum, and he’d give a low tone to the occasion. It’s too late to change the program, but I put my objection on record.”
“Can we go up to the room, Victor? You have a rest. I have to use the phone.”
They made their way to the hotel desk. They were expected. Victor signed the card and he refused a bellhop. “We don’t want help. Nothing to carry. We’re just waiting for our plane.” Why should it cost a buck to put the key in the lock?
When he came into the room, Victor pitched himself heavily on the bed and Katrina removed his shoes. They must have been size sixteen. Nevertheless, his feet were delicate in shape. A human warmth was released from these shoes when she pulled them off. She stacked pillows behind his head. As he made himself comfortable, he was aware again of the bristling of nerve ends in the belly. Surgical damage. The frayed ends of copper wires. Hair-darts ingrown.
“I’m calling my sister. Don’t worry, I’ll tell the operator to cut in.”
She went down the list of numbers Dotey had given her. People answered who were rude and hung up— behavior was getting worse and worse. At last she reached her sister, who said she was on the far South Side, fifteen miles from home, twenty-five from Evanston. Hazardous driving. “Too bad about all this snow,” she said. It was, however, satisfaction and not sympathy that her voice expressed.
“Did you call Evanston? Is Ysole there?”
“Ysole wanted me to tell her where you were. She didn’t believe you were in Schaumburg. She said that Krieggstein phoned in several times. He does stand by you, doesn’t he? He’s in love with you, Trina.”
“He’s a friend to me.”
“Where are you, by the way?”
“We had to land in Detroit.”
“Detroit! Jesus! I heard that O’Hare was closing. Can you get back?”
“A little late. Not too much. Did Ysole say that Alfred had called? By now the psychiatrist has told the lawyer about the canceled appointment, and if his lawyer has heard, so has mine.”
“You encourage Krieggstein too much,” said Dotey.
“I’m one of many. He courts ten ladies at a time.”
“So he says. It’s you he’s fascinated by. After Victor goes, he’ll close in. You may be too beat to resist him.”
“You’re being very ugly to me, Dorothea.”
Victor had pulled a pillow over the top of his head like a cowl. His eyes were closed, and he said, “Don’t tangle with her. Bottle up your feelings.”
“Let’s conclude. I’m tying up a customer’s line,” said Dotey.
“I count on you to stand by….”
“To go to Evanston tonight is out of the question. I’ve accepted a dinner invitation.”
“You didn’t mention that last night.”
“I’m sitting with business associates,” Dotey was saying. “You can reach me at home between six and eight.”
“All right,” said Katrina. Very quietly, obedient to Victor, she put down the phone.
“Be a sweetheart and turn off the air-conditioning, Katrina. I hate this fucking false airflow in hotels. The motor gets me down. These places more and more resemble funeral parlors.”
Katrina’s face as she turned the switch was blotched with the stings her sister had inflicted on her. “Dotey has like an instinct against me. When I’m in trouble she’s always ready to give me more lumps.”
“You’ll manage without her. We’ll fly back in an executive jet. You’ll go to Evanston in a limousine.” To these words of comfort Victor added, “The kids love a snowfall. They’re out playing, and they’re happy. I’d give you odds.” Even he was somewhat surprised by the gentleness of his tone. He was in a melting mood. It seemed to him that
