Read Further Tales of the City Online

Authors: Armistead Maupin

Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Gay Studies, #Social Science, #Gay

Further Tales of the City (16 page)

BOOK: Further Tales of the City
11.71Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads
Gangie

L
ITTLE EDGAR AND HIS SISTER ANNA RAN ACROSS THE
brown lawn at Halcyon Hill and accosted their grandmother on the terrace, each tugging joyfully at a leg.

“Gangie, Gangie … look!”

Frannie set her teacup down on the glass-topped table and smiled at the four-year-olds. “What is it, darlings? What do you want to show Gangie?”

Little Anna thrust out her tiny fist and uncurled it. A small gray toad, pulsing like a heart, was offered for examination. Frannie’s nose wrinkled, but she did her best to sound appreciative. “Well, now … just look at him, would you? Do you know what that is, Edgar?”

Edgar shook his head.

“It’s a fwog,” said Anna, somewhat smugly.

Edgar cast a disdainful look at his twin. “I found it,” he declared defiantly, as if to compensate for his vocabulary failure.

“Well, it’s just wonderful,” said Frannie sweetly, “but I think you should take it back where you found it.”

“Why?” they asked together.

“Well … because it’s one of God’s little creatures, and it looks like a baby to me. It probably misses its mommy. You wouldn’t like it if someone took you away from
your
mommy, now would you?”

Four almond eyes grew larger; two little heads shook simultaneously.

“Well, then … you run along and put him right back where you found him, and Gangie will have a big surprise for you when you get back.”

Frannie watched as they scurried back to the edge of the rose garden, delighting in the classic simplicity of the scenario. She was sure she had spoken the same words—in the same place, moreover—when DeDe had been that age.

“Could I have a word with you, Mother?”

The matriarch turned around to confront the grown-up DeDe, looking lean and beautiful and unusually … purposeful. “Hello, darling. Will Mary Ann join us for tea?”

“She just left,” said DeDe.

Frannie pecked her daughter on the cheek, then glanced lovingly in the direction of the twins. “They’re such a joy. I can’t tell you.”

DeDe’s smile was weary. “They seem to have taken to you, all right. Mother … could we talk for a moment?”

“Of course, darling. Is something the matter?”

DeDe shook her head. “I think you’ll like it. I
hope
you’ll like it.”

Emma kept the children amused with ice cream in the kitchen, while DeDe sat with her mother on the sunporch and explained what was on her mind.

“Mary Ann is going to release the story,” she said. “Not yet, though … maybe a week or so from now. We haven’t quite worked that part out yet. The point is … I think you and the twins should be out of town when it happens.”

“What?”

“Think about it, Mother. The publicity will be excruciating no matter what we do. I just don’t want you or the children subjected to that kind of pressure.”

“That’s very sweet, darling, but sooner or later that’s bound to happen, isn’t it?”

DeDe nodded. “To some extent … but things will have cooled down somewhat, and I think you’ll be better equipped to handle it.” DeDe handed her mother a page from the travel section of the
Chronicle.
“I think this looks marvelous myself. They say it’s the most spacious ship afloat, and it sails for …”

“DeDe, what on earth …?”

“Hear me out, Mother. It sails for Alaska next week for a two-week cruise. You see the glaciers and lovely old Russian buildings in Sitka …”

“DeDe, I’m touched by your thoughtfulness, but … well, I like it here, darling. And I really don’t think the publicity will be too much for me to …”

“Mother, I want the children out of town!”

Frannie was taken aback by the ferocity of DeDe’s declaration. “Darling, I’ll do anything you want. I just don’t understand why it’s so … well, so
important
to you.”

DeDe composed herself. “Just help me on this, Mother. Please. It’s a marvelous trip. The twins will adore it, and you’ll get to know them so much better. It’s perfect, really.” She looked at Frannie almost plaintively. “Don’t you think?”

The matriarch hesitated, then gave her daughter a hug. “I think it sounds lovely,” she said.

A Starr Is Born

T
HE CLOTHES FROM WILKES BASHFORD ARRIVED AT
Prue’s house about half-an-hour before Father Paddy did.

“What do you think?” the cleric asked breathlessly. “Daniel Detorie helped me pick them out. I
know
I went overboard on the Polo shirts, but the colors were so yummy I couldn’t resist.”

“They’re fine,” Prue replied, almost blandly. She was in shock, she realized, for now she
knew
it was going to happen.
It was really going to happen.
She conjured up a smile for the priest. “I can’t believe how sweet you’re being.”

“Pish,” said Father Paddy. “The pleasure was all mine, darling. I’ve never been turned loose in Wilkes before.” He lifted a blue blazer from its box. “This is Brioni,” he said. “I debated getting the Polo blazer, which was four hundred, but not nearly so
shaped
as the Brioni. And since we’re going for effect here, eight hundred seemed reasonable enough. Has he gotten a haircut yet?”

“I don’t think so,” said Prue.

Father Paddy rolled his eyes. “He can’t get on the ship looking like the Wild Man of Borneo, darling!”

“I know,” said Prue, “but if we slick his hair back …”

“Forget that. I’ll send over a hairdresser with the manicurist on Sunday.” He sighed exuberantly. “God, this is fun, isn’t it?”

“I’m still so nervous,” said Prue.

“Well, don’t be. It’s a piece of cake.” The priest removed a packet from his breast pocket. “Now, here are the tickets, my child. You’ll board between three o’clock and four-thirty on Sunday. Luke’s stateroom is two doors down from yours on the same deck. You can board half-an-hour apart, if you like, so nobody’ll be the wiser. Now … is he spending the night here on Saturday, I hope?”

Prue nodded. “I’ve given my secretary the weekend off.”

“Good. Smart girl.”

Prue perused the tickets, her brow wrinkling. “Wait a minute … this ticket says Sean P. Starr.”

“Right,” grinned Father Paddy. “Yours truly.”

“But … Luke can’t impersonate you, Father.”

“Why not?”

“Well, it’s just too risky. What if he needs to show an ID or something?”

The priest shrugged. “He’ll show mine. That’s included in the tour package, my child.”

“That’s very sweet, but … well, Luke just wouldn’t do that, I know it.”

“Do what?”

“Pretend to be a priest.”

Father Paddy held out the ID card for her examination. “Show me where it says priest. He’ll just be Sean Starr,
bon vivant
and world traveler, a charming middle-aged bachelor who just happens to meet a certain charming middle-aged society columnist on a cruise to Alaska. What could be more natural? Or more
romantic,
for that matter? Your readers will eat it up with a spoon!”

Prue laughed for the first time all day. “You’re absolutely insidious, Father.”

The cleric accepted the compliment with a demure little bow. “The rest is up to you, my child. The church can only go so far in secular matters. If I were you, though, I’d lean
very heavily on his investment broker background. Didn’t you say he used to do that?”

Prue nodded. “A long time ago. Before he was a preacher.”

“Marvelous. Then it’s the truth. That’s always handy.” He leaned over and pecked Prue impetuously on the cheek. “Oh, Prue … you’ve got such an adventure ahead of you,
such
an adventure.”

The columnist heard herself giggle. “I do, don’t I?”

“And you’re giving that poor man a new start in life. That’s something to be proud of …
and,
incidentally, something to write home about. I want
vivid
details, darling. That’s my fee for this service. By the way, do you love him?”

“Oh, yes!”

“Then, he’ll see that for two solid weeks, darling. He’ll see it, and he’ll never go back to what he was before. Some people
are
made for each other, my child, and when that happens, almost anything is possible.
Now …
what sort of hairdresser would you like?”

In Hillsborough, it was DeDe who gave the last-minute briefing.

“Just relax, Mother, that’s the main thing. Relax and enjoy your grandchildren … but for God’s sake don’t tell people that’s who they are or you’ll defeat our whole purpose.”

“Then, what exactly am I supposed to tell them?”

“Simple. They’re your
foster
grandchildren. Vietnamese orphans in your charge for the summer.”

The matriarch was indignant. “No one will believe that!”

“Why not? It makes more sense than the truth, doesn’t it?”

Silence.

“I know it’ll be tempting to brag, Mother. But you mustn’t. Not to anyone. There’ll be time enough to celebrate with your friends after we break the story.”

“What if I see someone I know?”

“You won’t, probably. Cruise ships have been middle class for years. But if you do, the story’s still the same. Say ‘foster’ every time You say ‘grandchild’ and you’ve got it licked. O.K.?”

Frannie nodded begrudgingly. “It seems awfully silly, somehow.”

“Mother.” DeDe’s voice was all business now. “It may seem silly to you, but it’s of vital importance. Do you understand me? The most well-meaning person could leak the story to the press before we know what hit us. Remember what Daddy used to say: ‘Loose lips sink ships.’ ”

Frannie wrinkled her nose at her daughter. “I can do without the leaking and the sinking, thank you.”

DeDe laughed nervously. “Bad choice. Sorry. Oh Mother, I hope you have the time of your life!”

“I will,” smiled Frannie. “We will.”

Now, Voyagers

T
HE GANGPLANK TO THE
SAGAFJORD
WAS ASWARM WITH
passengers, but Prue could see only one. “Look at him,” she purred. “Have you ever beheld anything more beautiful?”

Father Paddy crossed himself, an altogether suitable reply considering the object of their scrutiny. For the creature in the Brioni blazer
was
beautiful, a sleek, chiseled racehorse of a man who might easily be mistaken for a diplomat or an international financier.

“I want to run up there and hug him,” said Prue.

“Easy,” muttered the cleric. “Clothes might make the man, but
you
can’t do it until the ship’s under way.”

Prue giggled nervously. “You’re terrible, Father.”

“Does Luke have his ticket?”

Prue nodded. “I gave him the Olaf Trygvasson Suite. I wanted the Henrik Ibsen for myself. It seemed more literary.”

“Entirely appropriate,” said Father Paddy. “Do you want me to come on board, by the way?”

“That’s sweet. I’ll be able to manage, I think.”

The priest arched an eyebrow. “I should certainly hope so.”


Stop
it, Father.”

Father Paddy chuckled and hugged his friend. “Have a wonderful time, darling. I hope you meet someone
marvelous
on board.”

“Something tells me I will,” smiled Prue.

“But
don’t
meet him until the proper occasion arises.”

Prue nodded. “I understand.”

“And remember to call him Sean when other people are around.”

“I will.”

“And, for God’s sake, don’t fret over the fact that Frannie Halcyon is on board.”

“What?”

“I just spotted her on the pier. She may be seeing someone off, of course. At any rate, you have a perfect right to any romance that may happen to … come up, once you’re on board. Luke is certainly
more
than presentable at this point, and I doubt if Frannie …”

“Where is she?” asked Prue. “God, that makes me nervous!”

“Oh, Prue … lighten up. This is a vacation, remember?”

Prue smiled gamely. “I’ll try to.”

“God bless,” said Father Paddy.

“Ta-ta,” said Prue.

Down on the pier, three women clustered around two small children and made uneasy chatter.

“Now promise me,” said DeDe, squatting to confront the twins, “you’ll do everything that Gangie says.”

Little Anna attached herself to DeDe’s neck like a koala bear. “Why don’t you come, Mommy?”

“I can’t, sweetheart. Mommy’s got some things to do. But I’ll be right here to meet you when you get back. I promise.”

“Will D’orothea be here then?”

“She might, sweetheart. Mommy doesn’t know yet.”

Mary Ann knelt next to DeDe and addressed the children: “It’s going to be so much fun. They have movies on the ship, you know. And you’ll see wonderful animals up in Alaska.”

“What kind?” asked little Edgar.

Mary Ann’s face went blank. “What kind?” she murmured to DeDe.

“Uh … moose, I guess. Mooses?”

“Big
animals,” explained Mary Ann. “With big horns.” Then she saw the look on the little girl’s face, and added hastily: “But they’re very sweet … like a big ol’ dog or something.”

DeDe rose to her feet and embraced her mother. “Thank you for doing this. I love you dearly. I hope that much is clear, at least.”

“It is,” said Frannie, beginning to weep. “It always was, darling.”

DeDe found a Kleenex in her purse and blotted the matriarch’s eyes. “It’s better this way,” she said. “I know they’ll be safe with their Gangie.”

“But what could be safer than home?”

“Now, now … you know the publicity would …”

“It isn’t just the publicity, is it?” Frannie fixed her daughter with a gaze that demanded the truth.

DeDe turned away, discarding the Kleenex.

“Is it?” Frannie persisted.

A bone-rattling blast from the
Sagafjord
announced its impending departure.

“There we go,” said DeDe, a trifle too cheerily.

“DeDe, I want you to …”

DeDe silenced her with another hug. “Everything will be fine, Mother … just fine.”

Keeping Up with the Joneses

L
ARRY KENAN DIDN’T LAUGH—HE
BRAYED
—WHEN MARY
Ann made her request. “That’s rich, lady! That is really rich!”

“Well, I’m sorry if it …”

“Reserve
air time?”

“You don’t have to repeat it, Larry. I get the message.”

“Air time is not something you reserve, like a room at the Hilton or something …”

“Right. Gotcha.”

“Air time is something you
create …
and we have to know what we’re creating, right?”

“Right.” Mary Ann rose and headed for the door.

The news director kept his face tilted heavenward towards Bo Derek. “Hold it,” he said.

Mary Ann stopped at the door. “Yeah?”

“If you’ve got a story, you should let us know about it. You have a
responsibility
to let us know about it. As a journalist.”

“I’m not a journalist,” said Mary Ann crisply. “You just said so yourself.”

“I said you were not a journalist
yet
. And, even if you were, I couldn’t sign you up for free air time without knowing what
the fuck you’re gonna talk about!”

“I already told you,” said Mary Ann calmly. “I can talk about it a week from today.”

“Then why don’t you do that, huh?”

“Fine.”

“Only don’t expect to talk about it on the air.”

“Larry …”

“Do you read me, lady? We have professionals we pay for that. That’s not what we pay you for. I think we could work out a credit line on the crawl.
Maybe.
I don’t know what rabbit you’ve got treed, but don’t expect it to turn you into Bambi Kanetaka overnight.”

She squelched a “God forbid” and walked out the door. So much for Plan A.

Plan B, she expected, would be a lot more fun.

DeDe seemed amenable to the idea. “I don’t care how we do it,” she said. “I’m more concerned about when.”

“Would Tuesday be O.K.?” asked Mary Ann.

“A week from today?”

Mary Ann nodded. “That’ll give us a week to mop things up before your mother and the children get back. The trip was a good idea, really … if only for logistical purposes.”

DeDe’s face clouded over. “But you think I’m a little paranoid, just the same.”

“I think you’re being conscientious.”

“Don’t mince words, Mary Ann.”

“DeDe, I …”

“Jim Jones is dead, right? He must be. You saw it on the goddamn news!”

The outburst miffed Mary Ann. “All I care about,” she said firmly, “is that you get a fair chance to tell your story … in as safe a fashion as possible. This is a mind-boggling scoop, DeDe. Period. My opinion doesn’t make a good goddamn at this point. The point is … to raise the questions. The answers will sort themselves out later.”

“You’re right,” said DeDe resignedly.

“It won’t be easy. I know that. If you like, you can confine
your remarks to a written statement, and I’ll handle the questions from the press. Then you and the twins can disappear, take another vacation, start life afresh.”

DeDe’s smile was rueful. “It’ll be anything but that.”

“I know it’ll be tough for a while, but …”

“It’ll be tough until I know for sure. I saw that guy, Mary Ann. I’ve never been so sure about something.”

Mary Ann appraised her for a moment. “All right, then … let’s say that you did.”

DeDe waited.

“Let’s say that he made it to Moscow, and his double died in his place. The whole world thinks he’s dead, but he’s really alive and well and living in Moscow. Why on earth, then, would he come back to San Francisco and be seen wandering around Steinhart Aquarium?”

Silence.

Mary Ann was gentle. “These are the things they’re going to ask you, DeDe. I want you to be ready.”

“I’ll never be ready,” she said grimly.

Mary Ann rose and moved to DeDe’s side, hugging her clumsily. “I’m so sorry. God, I … look, we can leave out the stuff about the double, if you want. We can just announce that you’re back and leave out the rest …”

“No!” DeDe’s head shook adamantly. “I want to nail that asshole. I want this over once and for all. I don’t want to creep around the rest of my life, wondering if he’s waiting for me … wondering if … if the children …”

“What if it was the double you saw?”

Another decisive shake of DeDe’s head. “It wasn’t.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“I just am, that’s all.”

“He hasn’t changed at all? Surely people would recognize him.”

“Would you?” asked DeDe. “Who the hell expects to bump into
him
on the street?”

“Yeah. I see your point.”

“Besides … there
was
something different about him. His nose, maybe … I don’t know. They could’ve given him plastic surgery in Moscow. God, I wish you believed me! I remember the past, Mary Ann. I
won’t
be condemned to repeat it!” DeDe
flinched as if she’d been slapped.
“Jesus!”

“What’s the matter?” asked Mary Ann.

“Nothing,” said DeDe. “I’m still spouting his jargon, that’s all.”

“What jargon?”

DeDe shrugged it off. “Just a stupid quotation he hung over his throne.”

BOOK: Further Tales of the City
11.71Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

An Unexpected Affair by Lorelei Moone
Quatermass by Nigel Kneale
Danger on Parade by Carolyn Keene
Primal Heat 4 by A. C. Arthur
The Keep by Jennifer Egan
Pedigree Mum by Fiona Gibson
In My Head by Schiefer, S.L.
The Heir and the Spare by Maya Rodale