“Mark is such . . .” She looked around as if for her daughters, then remembered they were at the Kleins, playing with Lori and Kari. “Mark is such a damned asshole!”
“You have my whole-hearted agreement on that. Why don’t we call Lor Lu now?”
“It’s 5:30.”
Ben laughed. “He’s a bachelor; he lives in his office. And he’ll want to know.” Ben stepped to the living room phone. “I’ll call him, if that’s all right.”
She nodded, and his fingers pecked out a number. “Lor Lu, this is Ben Shoreff. Lee just got a very disturbing registered fax from”—he looked again at the first page—”from the Monroe County District Court, Rochester, New York. Her ex-husband has initiated a suit to get custody of Becca and Raquel. On the basis that Lee is an unfit mother, a member of a cult, and the children are growing up in the cult. He probably watched the CNN special, saw the family interview, and got visions of revenge.”
He stood listening for a moment, then spoke again. “Lee divorced him on the basis of his cocaine addiction, and got custody of the girls. Mark didn’t even contest it, and Lee had gone to work with a high-powered consulting firm, so supporting them wasn’t a problem. Meanwhile, Mark’s dad had cut him off, no doubt for the same reason Lee had. But apparently Mark got clean. And I suppose that dad, the source of money and all good things, took him back into the family and the family law firm.”
Again Ben listened. “Sure. Just a moment.” He switched off the transmitter. “How about eating with staff this evening?” Lee nodded, and he touched the transmitter switch again. “We’ll eat at staff this evening, and give you the papers after supper.”
Lee’s gaze had taken on increasing life as he’d talked. Now he disconnected, and dialed another number. “Hi, Betty,” he said. “Lee and I have decided to eat at staff this evening. Would you send the girls home, please? . . . Thanks.”
Again he disconnected, then grinned at his wife. “There you go, sweetheart. It’s as good as handled.”
He really had no doubt it would be handled, but he also didn’t doubt that the unpleasantness had only begun.
* * *
The next morning there was a knock on Lee’s office door. When she called, “Come in,” it was Ngunda Aran who entered.
He smiled. “Lor Lu has told me of the unpleasantness with your ex-husband. It may take some time to settle, but I want you to know it will be handled, and as smoothly as possible.”
He left, Lee staring after him. She’d felt a lot better after talking with Lor Lu the previous evening, and this visit, brief as it had been, had added to her assurance level.
She would though, she told herself, prefer quickly to smoothly. She also told herself that if she was still with Mertens, Loftus, and Hurst, she’d be on her own in this, dangling in the wind.
26
From the second appearance
of Ngunda Elija Aran, on
Conversations with Warren Breuer
Breuer: I suppose you have thoughts on Congressman Weigner’s proposed Public Works Employment Bill.
Aran: The bill would provide economic first aid. It would undertake to slow the bleeding, ease the pain, and keep the patient alive. And it reflects an institutional compassion, which is a lower grade phenomenon than personal compassion, but has the virtue of reach.
Breuer: Both the Centrists and Republicans insist the Depression will blow over; that it’s just a matter of time till things straighten out. What’s your take on that?
Aran: I am optimistic. [Pauses thoughtfully.] Usually I bypass questions on economics or politics. They are not where my attention lies, or my insights. But for you I’ll make an exception. [Grins.] You may wish I hadn’t.
The American economic and social body has various systems that tend to produce recovery. Among others, these include politics, education, science and technology. Therefore there is a chance that the disease will run its course, and that American democracy has a healthy vigorous future.
Notice I said disease. The disease is materialism, a distortion of basic human physical needs.