“What if Mr. Harrington decides he has work to do?
“The only thing Mr. Harrington would do, left to his own devices, is brood. ”
“Brood?”
“Yes. Brood. ”
Well, in this world of 5 billion plus, I suppose it is better to brood than to have a brood. ”
“A clever but meaningless statement. We have an out-of-town guest with us. It’s not fair to subject him to your moods. Vacating the premises is the only courteous thing to do. ”
“You mean I don’t get to go to Santa Barbara?” Petey piped again.
Roee shot Petey a look. “I’ll take you to the Santa Monica pier. You can ride the merry-go-round. ”
“I have to confer with the Captain. We have to book Michael,” I protested.
“I will take care of everything. You will relax. ”
“Why? Why do I have to relax?”
“April, 1987,” Roee said by way of answer.
It was the right answer.
*
I picked Anne up precisely at ten the next morning in the Bentley. Bentleys, like Rolls-Royces, are not uncommon in Los Angeles, despite being absurd cars to have for day to day driving in the city. Costing about the same as a mid-size condo in Covina, they are really nothing more than a swagger on wheels between stoplights. But on the open road these “touring cars” are the apotheosis of the internal combustion engine. You can drive one and still fully understand about the depletion of the ozone layer, but you just simply won’t give a damn.
“Nice car,” Anne said as I walked her to it, carrying her single piece of luggage. “Yours?”
“Mr. Harrington’s. ”
“Who?”
“I am today, for the purpose of the hotel, Mr. C. Lawrence Harrington of Chadds Ford, Pennsylvania. ”
“Oh. ”
“Third generation wealth. ”
“Must be nice. ”
“I’ve learned to live with it. ”
“What does the ‘C’ stand for?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never thought to ask myself. ”
*
We took Sunset Boulevard to the beach, turning right onto Pacific Coast Highway, more popularly known as PCH, as I explained to Anne.
“Sounds like a substance that should be controlled. ”
“Yes,” I smiled. “Yes it does. ”
Anne was like many transplants from across America who come to L. A. pursuing one “Show Biz” dream or another, and who spend their first several years here sticking close to their new neighborhoods, whether that be West L. A. or Silverlake; Santa Monica or Hollywood (they almost always land in the basin). They immediately adopt the thought that the few square blocks around their not-so-well-built apartment is L. A. , and never get around to discovering the various other parts of it, not to mention the expanse radiating out from L. A. that is Southern California. Anne was beyond that now, of course, had a little bit of her dream realized, had a nice house in the hills, but she had been working so hard, she was still not locally well traveled. It was obvious when we started the run up PCH, heading north towards Santa Barbara, that when she had previously thought of Southern California she had thought of beaches with bikinis and muscles, both bulging; bright pink sunglasses; oiled down, slowly frying skin, and all the little comedies of humans tiptoeing their way back into the font of life. She did not think of a coastline where the continent actually ends, often sliced off, forming cliffs that meet the pounding waves, and every year surrender just a little more in the ultimate battle of attrition. Drama. True drama. She watched the coastline pass, as the Bentley glided the edge of the continent, and was impressed—and delighted. She turned to me and smiled. As if I had arranged it. As if I had thought to create such clear-cut evidence of the planet we dwelled on.
We chatted about inconsequential matters: The horsepower of the Bentley and the details of its luxury. Why do people live in Malibu if they are just going to be washed out in floods? Did I surf? No, I said, it wasn’t intellectually stimulating enough. Did I really like the outfit she bought, which turned out to be a Galliano, and if I really hated it, she would take it back. I told her I liked it. She said, after every thing was over, she would buy it from me. I told her if everything were successful, it would be a gift. No, she insisted, she would buy it. The necklace can be a gift. That would disappoint Roee, I told her. She laughed. For the wrong reason, but I did not care to explain the situation. Soon, much quicker that she had imagined, we were in Santa Barbara and pulling into the hotel.
“This is so beautiful!” Anne exclaimed as we got out of the car. Santa Barbara had enchanted her from the moment she first caught sight of it nestled between the ocean—on this clean, clear day, very blue—and the Santa Ynez Mountains, themselves seemingly blue and rising relatively high and nearly mystical in the landscape. The hotel had a two story main building surrounded by one story cottages, all built in a California Spanish style, with brilliant white walls and red tile roofs. Although the sun was hot, the air was cool coming off the Pacific, and stunning with its vibrant ocean smell. The quality of sight in viewing all this was crystal. Facets. She took in a deep breath and with her eyes declared her love for all the facets she could take in.
I turned the car and our luggage over to the proper people, and we walked into the quiet lobby with the high-beamed ceiling, Spanish arch doorways and large ochre tiles on the floor. Bob Hedron, the manager, a man fascinated by my “old money,” came up to greet us.
“Mr. Harrington, so good to see you again. I had no idea you were on the
West Coast. ”
“Just a short, fast trip, Bob. By the way, I would like you to meet Anne Eisley. ”
“Miss Eisley, a pleasure. I’m sure you will enjoy Mr. Harrington’s favorite cottage-suite. ”
“So it’s available?” I said, displaying a remarkable lack of presumption.
“Once the call came in from your man, we made sure it would be. ”
“Thank you, Bob. Thank you very much. It is deeply appreciated. ”
“Always my pleasure, sir. ”
Bob loved this old world, old money lack of pretension and genteel courtesy, which was part of my performance as Mr. Harrington. Dealing, as he does, with so many new moneyed Hollywood types, who can be so aggressive in their joy of suddenly being in the top of the top percentile of American wealth, he found it cooling, like an early evening ocean breeze, after of period of blistering heat.
We went to our cottage-suite and found lunch waiting for us, laid out beautifully on the attached patio. A chilled seafood salad, a light white wine, and a selection of multi-grain breads. Anne, amazed by how flavorful each selection of seafood was, responded to the food sensually. “It’s all fresh,” I said. “Caught this morning, I’m sure. The dressing, by the way, is made with seven herbs. It’s actually a creation of Roee’s, which I have passed off to Bob as an old family recipe. ”
“Roee doesn’t mind?”
“I paid him for it. ”
“Oh. Well, it’s delicious. ”
“Yes, isn’t it. Roee and I once thought of opening a restaurant. ”
“Why didn’t you?”
“The hours are too long. The idea actually came to us while we were under torture, which is never a good time to make plans. ”
She looked up, into my eyes. “No,” she smiled a smile that wasn’t sure it should be, “I would think not. ”
Coffee came at exactly the right time. And over its stimulation Anne began to tell me certain particulars about growing up.
“I think I gave you some feel for my background when we first met. ” I nodded assent. “It was a brilliant childhood. Old fashioned, but not out of touch with the times at all. My parents had been anti-war protesters. You know, the Vietnam War?”
“Yes, I guessed. ”
“They had both come from sprawling upper middle-class suburbs. Their parents freaked over their views. They met at a anti-war rally, of course, at Columbia University. ”
“What were they studying?”
“Journalism for my dad. Social Science, of course, for my mom. ”
“Of course. ”
“The anger, the rancor they felt the previous generation had for them, simply because they didn’t want to see America cheapened by this immoral war, really shocked them, made them very nostalgic for a simpler time. ”
“The back-to-nature movement?”
“No, not that simple. They didn’t join a commune, or anything like that. But certainly back to a more manageable America, where democracy was more local. ”
“So they moved to a small town in South Dakota. ”
“Yes. Dad became a reporter on the local paper… ”
“Eventually becoming its editor. ”
“Yes, exactly. Very good,” she said, impressed.
“And your mom?”
“A mom. And a community activist, of course. ”
“Of course. Any siblings? I mean besides me. ”
“No. I’m an only child. My parents wanted to replicate, but they didn’t want to get carried away. They have never trusted the future. ”
“A wise point of view. ”
“Maybe. ”
“Were you spoiled?”
“No. But I had a lot of attention paid to me, and a lot of expectations expressed, but not without encouragement. I was given a lot of self-esteem. I have no problems in that regard. ”
“Would you have liked siblings?”
“I guess. But Mom, Dad and I have this particular kind of bond. I would not want to have given that up. ”
“If you had had a brother—an older brother, say, could you have seen him becoming a scientist, say a theoretical physicist?”
She thought about that. Then said, “Yes. Definitely. Although Mom and
Dad had a suspicion of technology—at least until PC’s came along—they’ve always had a healthy interest in science. Dad has the paper report on it a lot. And we had a great science teacher at the high school. He died just last year. Sad. Anyway, I could see a son of theirs getting turned on to science. ”
“Good. Next week for a short time I will be that son. An older brother to you, fairly shy, reclusive, but fascinated, like most current Americans, by this world of Show Biz you have found yourself in. Despite the difference in your ages, you are very close and have a loving relationship. ”
“So it will not be out of character for sister to hang on to her brother’s arm at the ball. ”
“Not at all. You are proud of your brother and don’t mind showing him off. ”
“Good. That will be easy to play. ”
We filled the rest of the afternoon with details I solicited from Anne: Names, dates, places of recreation, memorable vacations, childhood diseases, many facts, most of which I would never need. But I needed to know them, I needed for them to be there in the back of my mind as if experience had actually placed them there.
Then Anne noticed the light changing. “My god! Most of the day is gone and we haven’t been to the beach. ”
“Too cold to go swimming. ”
“Oh, forget that, grab a sweater and let’s go sit on the beach. I want to see the sun set into the ocean. ”
We got to the beach and kicked off our shoes. The sand was still warm and nice between our toes. We decided to walk for a ways, Anne being brave enough to dance with the waves, eventually not moving quick enough and getting soaked to just above her ankles.
“Oh, jeez, that’s cold! My toes are numb!”
“Come up here, bury them in the sand. ”
She came up to me and I directed her to a place to sit. She dug her feet into the sand. The sun was just beginning to touch the horizon.
“God, it’s beautiful,” she said.
“Not a normal South Dakota vista, huh?”
“Nope. This is almost frightening, edge of the world stuff. ”
“Frightening?”
“Yeah, like a roller coaster. ”
“So you might buy a house in Malibu after all. ”
“Only if it floats. ”
We stopped talking in order not to distract from the sun’s last moments in our view. Then it was fully set. Anne turned to me and without hesitation asked, “And you? What do I get to learn about you?”
“Nothing much. ”
“Why?”
“That’s my choice. ”
“I grilled Roee, you know, without mercy. He didn’t give up a thing. ”
“Roee is a man who has been under tortures far greater than nagging questions from a very beautiful woman. ”
“You see, you say things like that. ”
“Like what?”
“Being under torture. ”
“A metaphor maybe?”
“No. Self-dramatizing. ”
“I was always accused by my mother of being melodramatic. ”
“So, you had a mother?”
“Yes, I had no choice. I might have preferred sprouting full grown in a field of wheat, but if the option existed, it was never offered to me. ”
“You know what I mean. ”
“What?”
“You have a past. ”
“Of course. Fifty-two, in fact. ”
“Yes, that’s the problem. ”
“I have never found it to be a problem. ”
“No, you like it, don’t you?”
“Like what?”
“Being a mystery. ”
“Aren’t we all a mystery?”
“Oh, come on!” She punched me in the ribs.
“Ow!”
“I assume you once worked for the CIA, or something. ”
“You can assume that. ”
“Fought the good fight against the Communists. ”
“Oh, yes. I excelled at holding up dominoes. ”
“You never assassinated anyone did you? You know like a South American leader or… ” I suppose something suddenly surfaced in my eyes. “Oh. Oh, listen, you’re right. I shouldn’t ask. None of my business. ”
If she only knew how much I would have loved to tell her.
“Maybe we should go back,” she said.
But I was not ready. “You ask if I love being a mystery. That is a meaningless question. If you ask if being a mystery is an effective tool of my profession, then the answer would be, yes, very effective. ”
“But what is your profession?
“It doesn’t really have a name. ”
“Except being a fixer. ”
“Yes, except that. ”
“Why?”
“I’m good at it. I’m well trained. It pays at a level I demand in order live life as I see fit. ”
“So you do it just to buy the Good Life. ”
“The only good life is a life of freedom. Money often enslaves more than it frees. If my life is good it is because I demand to be free. Money just adds a great deal of comfort to that freedom. ”
“Well, yeah, of course, freedom. We’re Americans, it’s our inalienable right. Why are you laughing?”
“You assume I’m an American. ”
“Aren’t you? Surely you’re that at least. ”
“And there are no such things as inalienable rights, despite whatever your high school history teacher may have told you. ”
“Well, I think he heard it from Jefferson. ”
“A great man. Good writer. Terrific salesman. Freedom is not a right, inalienable, or otherwise. If it is, then something is very, very wrong with the universe, for the vast majority of people during the vast majority of time have never even come close to it. But freedom is every person’s most fervent desire. And desires are rarely met through gifts. They are usually only fulfilled through personal acquisition. ”
“So grab your freedom, and fuck the other guy?”
“I did not say that. But I am not responsible for the other guy. I can only concern myself with myself. ”
“You lie. ”
“I do?”
“Why are y
ou determined to bring Rand down? What business is it of yours? Is someone paying you to do this?”
“I assume Roee has already told you that no one is. ”
“Roee admires you. I could tell that. Why would he admire someone who is only concerned with himself?”
“You’re determined to find something noble in me, aren’t you? Women are like that. ”
“I am only determined to know you. If I cannot know the mundane facts about you, then what’s left but the more slippery issue of your character?”
“Character?”
“Sorry. It’s probably a Middle America concept. Very big on the plains. ”
“I like the concept. I just cannot speak to it. ”
“Do you believe in morality, Fixxer?”
“Not as such. ”
“As such?”
“As something imposed on us from above. ”
“But… ?”
“If I told you what my moral code is, you would find it so simple that it would seem corny to you and you would laugh. ”
She looked at me. In what little light of the day that was left, she looked at me with an intensity I normally would not have been comfortable with. “It’s going to be hell falling in love with you, Fixxer. It’s going to be painful and tragic and full of woe. ”
“And if I was the kind of man who always lived up to my simple moral code, I would warn you away, I would shun you, I would simply not allow it to happen. ”
“But… ?”
“But—I sin. ”
She leaned over and kissed me. It was a long, slow kiss. The kind of kiss where it seemed that more than just breath was exchanged.
Chapter 14
The Idea of Manhood
When I woke up the next morning, Anne was still asleep with a not unhappy aspect to her face. Of course, she could have been dreaming of Mencken, her father’s Labrador that she had loved with all the wild abandon a child has for a pet but I am human enough to have ascribed the cause to something more personally flattering.
Did she snore? As much as I would like to paint perfection here, she did snore. But it was a very charming, delicate snore.
I quietly moved to the bathroom and did the normal requirements. Then I got on the phone and ordered continental breakfast for two with two full pots of coffee. While waiting, I decided to shave, running the water until it was near scalding, cupping it in my hands and bringing it to my face, holding it there, feeling its wonderful sting. Just as I was preparing to lather my face, I felt her presence and heard her say, “Oh, don’t do that. ”
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