“No,” said Roger. “And now I think I never will.”
“That’s the stuff,” Mr. Bobby said. “And don’t you ever fool with that old oblivion stuff.”
“Fuck oblivion,” said Roger.
XI
Lunch was excellent, the steak was browned outside and striped by the grill. A knife slipped through the outer part and inside the meat was tender and juicy. They all dipped up juice from their plates and put it on the mashed potatoes and the juice made a lake in their creamy whiteness. The lima beans, cooked in butter, were firm; the cabbage lettuce was crisp and cold and the grapefruit was chilly cold.
Everyone was hungry with the wind and Eddy came up and looked in while they were eating. His face looked very bad and he said, “What the hell do you think of meat like that?”
“It’s wonderful,” young Tom said.
“Chew it good,” Eddy said. “Don’t waste that eating it fast.”
“You can’t chew it much or it’s gone,” young Tom told him.
“Have we got dessert, Eddy?” David asked.
“Sure. Pie and ice cream.”
“Oh boy,” Andrew said. “Two pieces?”
“Enough to founder you. Ice cream’s as hard as a rock.”
“What kind of pie?”
“Loganberry pie.”
“What kind of ice cream?”
“Coconut.”
“Where’d we get it?”
“Run-boat brought it.”
They drank iced tea with the meal and Roger and Thomas Hudson had coffee after the dessert.
“Eddy’s a wonderful cook,” Roger said.
“Some of it’s appetite.”
“That steak wasn’t appetite. Nor that salad. Nor that pie.”
“He is a fine cook,” Thomas Hudson agreed. “Is the coffee all right?”
“Excellent.”
“Papa,” young Tom asked, “if the people on the yacht go to Mr. Bobby’s can we go down and practice Andy being a rummy on them?”
“Mr. Bobby might not like it. He might get in bad with Constable.”
“I’ll go down and tell Mr. Bobby and I’ll speak to Constable. He’s a friend of ours.”
“All right. You tell Mr. Bobby and keep a look out for when the yacht people show up. What will we do about Dave?”
“Can’t we carry him? He’d look good that way.”
“I’ll put on Tom’s sneakers and walk,” David said. “Have you got it worked out, Tommy?”
“We can make it up as we go along,” young Tom said. “Can you still turn your eyelids inside out?”
“Oh sure,” said David.
“Don’t do it now, please,” Andrew said. “I don’t want to be sick right after lunch.”
“For a dime I’d make you throw up now, horseman.”
“No please don’t. Later on I won’t mind.”
“Do you want me to go with you?” Roger asked young Tom.
“I’d love it,” young Tom said. “We can work it out together.”
“Let’s go then,” Roger said. “Why don’t you take a nap, Davy?”
“I might,” said David. “I’ll read till I go to sleep. What are you going to do, papa?”
“I’m going to work in the lee out on the porch.”
“I’ll lie out there on the cot and watch you work. Will you mind?”
“No. Make me work better.”
“We’ll be back,” Roger said. “What about you, Andy?”
“I’d like to come and study it. But I think I better not because the people might be there.”
“That’s smart,” young Tom said. “You’re smart, horseman.”
They went off and Thomas Hudson worked all afternoon. Andy watched for a while and then went out somewhere and David watched and read and did not talk.
Thomas Hudson wanted to paint the leap of the fish first because painting him in the water was going to be much more difficult and he made two sketches, neither of which he liked, and finally a third one that he did like.
“Do you think that gets it, Davy?”
“Gee, papa, it looks wonderful. But water comes up with him when he comes out, doesn’t it? I mean not just when he splashed back.”
“It must,” his father agreed. “Because he has to burst the surface.”
“He came up so long. A lot must have come up. I suppose it really drips off him or pours off him if you could see it fast enough. Is he on his way up or on his way down?”