“It’s about you and that young man who just recently moved up here,” Mrs. Mayberry said. “Nathan Anteil, who rented the old Mondavi place.”
At that, I felt cold all over. “What do you mean, about me and Mr. Anteil?” I said.
“Well, they haven’t showed it to anyone outside the group. That’s all Mrs. Baron knew.”
I said, “Have you heard anything about me and Mr. Anteil from other sources?”
“No,” Mrs. Mayberry said. “Like what?”
“That fucking Claudia Hambro,” I said, and then, seeing the expression on Mrs. Mayberry’s face, I said, “Excuse me.” I threw down my sewing; I was so mad and upset I could hardly see. Going to my purse I got out my cigarettes, lit one, and then threw it into the fire- place. “Excuse me,” I said. “I have to go out.”
Running into the bedroom I changed from my jeans to a skirt and blouse; I combed my hair, put on lipstick, got my purse and car keys, and started out of the house. There, at the dining room table, sat that big horse’s ass, Mrs. Mayberi-y, staring at me as if I were a freak.
“I have to go out for a while,” I told her. “Good-bye.” I ran down the path and jumped into the Buick. A minute later I was driving up the road, as fast as possible, toward Inverness Park.
I found Claudia out in her cactus garden, weeding. “Listen,” I said, “I think if you had any social responsibility you would have telephoned me as soon as you got your hands on that thing he wrote. Jack wrote.” I was out of breath from running up her flagstone path from the car. “Can I have it, please?”
Claudia stood up, holding her trowel. “You mean that story?”
“Right,” I said.
“It’s being read,” she said. “We passed it around the group. I don’t know who has it.”
“Have you read it?” I said. “What does it say about me and Nat Anteil?”
Claudia said, “It’s in the form usual with telepathical writing. You can read it. I’ll put your name down and when it gets back to me I’ll bring it over to you.” She had amazing calmness; I have to give her credit for that. She kept really poised.
“I’ll sue you,” I said. “I’ll take you to court.”
“That’s right,” Claudia said. “You have that big attorney down in San Rafael. You know, Mrs. Hume, in a month from now none of us will remember or even care about all this. It’ll be all washed away.” She smiled her dazzling, beautiful smile. Probably there wasn’t another woman as physically beautiful as Claudia in Northern California. And she certainly wasn’t intimidated. She didn’t bat an eye, and I know I’ve never been so angry and upset in my entire life. I really felt that in a couple of moments with me she had gotten the upper hand. It was that magnetic personality of hers, that assurance. She really is a powerful woman. No wonder she had control of that group. Anyhow, I have never been good at dealing with women. All I could do was keep my temper and speak as rationally as possible.
“I’d appreciate having that thing back,” I said. “Possibly you could contact the different members of your group and find out who has it and then I’ll drive over and get it back from them. I frankly don’t see what’s so difficult or impossible about that. If you’ll give me the names of your group I’ll call them now.”
Claudia said, “It’ll come back. In due time.”
I went away feeling like a child that had been reprimanded by its teacher. Good god, I thought. That woman completely takes over; there’s nothing I can do. I know she has no right to be circulating that god damn thing, and she knows it, too, but she made it sound as if I was asking for something completely outrageous. How did she do it? Now! felt more depressed than angry; I didn’t even feel scared. Ijust felt how incompetent and idiotic I was, how unable to handle my affairs.
Looking back on it I saw that I should have been able to march up to her and simply demand that thing, not threaten or yell but just hold out my hand, say nothing at all.
As soon as I had gotten back in my car I made up my mind to get Nathan and get him to get the damn thing back for me.
After all, it involved him, too.
I drove over to his place and parked and honked the horn. No one appeared on the porch, so I shut off the motor and got out and went up the stairs. Nobody answered my knock, so I opened the door, looked in and called. Still no one. The motherfucker, I thought. I returned to the car and began driving around purposelessly, with no more idea of what to do than a year-old baby.
After half an hour I drove back to my own house; the time was two-thirty and the girls would be getting home. Mrs. Mayberry had left, thank god. I took a look into Jack’s room, but he wasn’t there; he probably had been eavesdropping on me and Mrs. Mayberry and had had the good sense to get out of the house.
Going into the kitchen I poured myself a drink.
This is really the pit, I thought. It’s all over town, and not only that, it’s being circulated by the screwiest, craziest, nuttiest bunch of simps in the entire North American continent. Of all the people to get hold of the god damn thing. What do you suppose it says, anyhow? I wondered. What did the asshole say?
I called my attorney, Sam Cohen. After I had told him the situation he advised me to sit tight and wait until I had actually seen the document or whatever it’s called. I thanked him and went and made myself another drink. Then I called Doctor Andrews. The receptionist said I couldn’t hope to get through to him until four; he had a patient until then, and for me to call back. By now the girls had come home. I hung up and went outside, onto the patio, and watched the Rouen drake chasing the Muscovy around the pen. First he chased her up onto the feed can, and then she flew to the far end, onto the water trough. He ran after her and she then flew back.
At four-ten I was able to get hold of Doctor Andrews. He told me to take one of the Sparines he had given me and to wait until I actually saw the god damn story.
“By then even the farms out on the point’ll know about me and Nathan,” I said.
In his usual fat-assed way he mumbled about keeping cool and taking a long-term view.
“That’s what I’m doing, you hick analyst,” I told him. “You slob. My reputation in this town is going to be ruined. You never lived in a small town; it’s easy enough for you to say, living in San Francisco. You can screw anybody you want and nobody gives a damn. Up here they’re voting on you in the PTA before you have your pants zipped back up. My god, I have the Bluebirds, and the dance group — they’ll stop sending their kids, and I won’t be able to get my mail delivered, or the electricity — they won’t sell me food at the Mayfair; I’ll have to drive to Petaluma every time I want a loaf of bread — I won’t even be able to buy gas for my car!”
Andrews told me I was getting worked up inordinately. Finally I told him to go to hell and hung up.
Anyhow, I thought, that’s what analysts are for, to have steam blown off at them.
In a sense he’s right. I am getting too excited.
At six o’clock, while the girls and I were eating dinner –Jack was still hiding out somewhere– the front door opened and Nat Anteil walked into the house.
“Where have you been?” I said, leaping up. “I’ve been trying to get hold of you all day.” And then I saw by the look on his face that he knew. “Can’t we sue them?” I said. “For defamation of character or something?”
Nat said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Wait,” I said. I led him out of the dining room and into the study; closing the door so the girls couldn’t hear I said, “What is it?”
He said, “I was down in San Francisco, talking to your husband. Evidently Jack told him about us; anyhow he knows.”
“Jack told everybody,” I said. “He wrote it up and gave it to Claudia Hambro.”
“Charley and I had a long talk,” Nat said, but I interrupted him before he could go into one of his two-hour speeches.