The Childish Churl (A Nick Williams Mystery Book 15)

by Frank W. Butterfield

  He looked up at me. His electric blue eyes were red and his face was contorted. Taking the bottle, he took a little more than a swig and then put it down on the coffee table with a bang.

  Carter cleared his throat and said, "This is where I would tell you to apologize to everyone, Nick. But, at the risk of sounding like your father, or your husband, I'm not gonna do that."

  I nodded and didn't say anything for a long moment. Finally, I said, "I'm sorry, everyone."

  No one replied and we sat in silence with just the sound of the traffic below. We were the only ones in the office. Sam, Kenneth, and Benjamin had left for the day. No one else had come in. After Higginbotham had left, Marnie had turned the key to our floor so no one could come up. No one was coming. No one would hear us.

  There we were, just the four of us. It was as if we were all the way back to the beginning, before I got Mike and Carter fired... But I didn't want to rehash all that again. I didn't want to apologize for being me. Nick being Nick. That phrase still rankled me.

  Suddenly, I felt like I was hovering outside the window and looking in from high above Market Street. I could see the pain and the sadness, all of which I had caused or, at least, had revealed. I could see the love, too. It was there. It was real. For a brief moment, I knew that the love was more important, more substantial, than the pain. The only thing was, the pain was more obvious. I had a brief flash how that was the key to something. Something very important.

  I realized I'd been looking out the window. I turned and looked at Mike who was looking at me. His monster face was in full gear, but I knew he wasn't angry. He was sad, profoundly sad. I sighed and said, "Really, Mike. I have no idea why I said those things."

  He stood and then sat down next to me, on my right. Putting his left hand around my shoulder, he said, "Everything you said was right, Nick. I've talked and talked about all of this with Greg. He says that we have some sort of transference something or other. That I took on the role of your father. But, hell, Nick, you needed a father. Your old man never once did anything to raise you. That chauffeur of his, the one you had such a crush on. He raised you. And that Zelda." He paused. Zelda had been our housekeeper when I was growing up. We'd recently discovered she had been slowly poisoning my mother. It was the reason my mother left. She thought she was dying. "The crazy lady that Zelda was, she raised you." He ran his left hand over my head and through my hair. Pulling me in close, he said, "I love you, Nick. Nothing is ever gonna change that. But we're business partners now and we have to change the way we do things around here. That's where I was going when I said I wanted to try out something new."

  I was only hearing about half of what he was saying. His physical presence was making it hard for me to pay attention. I was remembering the first few days after I went to live with him. The filthy apartment he'd lived in. How I'd cleaned everything, top to bottom, not having any idea how to do any of it and nearly killing us by mixing bleach and ammonia. How he'd held me every night, not making any moves on me, just holding me in his arms. How I'd fallen asleep with my head on his chest, just like I did with Carter. How I would wake up in exactly that same position when his alarm would go off at 6 in the morning.

  I could remember the first time I'd tried to cook dinner for him. How he'd very calmly and very politely scraped everything on his plate into the garbage pail and had taken me by the hand and showed me how to make scrambled eggs with a little cream in them and parsley on top. Eventually, he'd bought me a cookbook. And we'd tried out all sorts of dishes.

  How he'd taught me to dance, both how to lead and how to follow. How he'd had two lesbian friends and the four of us would go out on the town until we'd found a bar that was just for us where we could dance with each other.

  He had been my lover, my friend, and my father. And I loved him for that. I loved him for who we'd become as friends and business partners. And, of course, I loved him for keeping Carter and me alive even when we didn't know we needed his help with that.

  I suddenly came back to the room and realized we were all quiet again. I looked over at Marnie. She had her handkerchief out and was dabbing her eyes.

  I asked, "What is it, doll?"

  She sniffed and pointed at the three of us. "That."

  "What?"

  "That thing the three of you have. It's so weird but I want to be part of it, too." She gently blew her nose and then sniffed again. "You have no idea how it feels to be on the outside of your friendships, of your, I dunno, your love and to watch it. Like goin' to a bakery and smelling what's inside but never bein' allowed to walk in and buy anythin', much less have a bite."

  I nodded.

  "I talk to Mother about it, sometimes. She just tells me to realize how lucky I am to be part of what you're doin' here." She sniffed again. "And she's right." Sighing, she said, "But I go home to Alex..." She looked at me. "You know I love him, Nick. I really do. But it's not the same. He has his friends from your school. St. Ignatius. And I don't have any of that. Mother's all married and happy, finally. I'm married and I'm happy. But..."

  Carter said, "But there's something missing?"

  She nodded. "Yeah."

  Carter scooted to his left and patted the spot he'd just made.

  Marnie pulled back. "Oh, no. I couldn't."

  I smiled. "Yes, you can." I added, "If you want."

  She stood and slowly walked around the coffee table as Carter moved his long legs to the side so she could pass by. She sat in between us. But she wasn't relaxed.

  I took her right hand in my left and held it very gently. "Marnie, you're the best gal I've ever known."

  She giggled. I had the feeling she didn't want to, but she did. "Oh, Nick."

  "No, I mean it. I'm so happy you married Alex and that the honeymoon just keeps going on and on. And that you're my sister." I laughed. "And practically Carter's as well, from both sides."

  We all laughed at that.

  "What I'm trying to say is that we love you. And we want you to have whatever you want."

  She relaxed a little and leaned against me, resting her head on shoulder. "Oh, Nick." She sat there for a moment. "You know, I could have easily thrown just the same kind of fit you were throwing."

  "Really?" I asked.

  She nodded. "Yeah. Only it would have been about being lonely. And about how it seems like none of you ever remember I'm here."

  "I'm sorry about that, Marnie."

  She shrugged. "I couldn't possibly tell you what I wish you'd do instead of what you are doing. Maybe Mother is right. It's just an honor to be here and be part of what you're doing. I know I'll never really understand what it's like to be you, Nick."

  I softly laughed. "Well—"

  "You know what I mean. I've never once thought any gal was anything close to attractive, other than just being pretty or wearing her clothes in a nice way or having a pleasing hair-do." She sighed. "It's like you all have a secret and there's no way to find out what it is."

  Carter said, "The secret is that we're the Lost Boys and we live in Neverland."

  "What's that from?" asked Mike.

  "Peter Pan," replied Carter.

  "I didn't see the movie."

  "Me, neither," said Carter, "but I read the book: Peter Pan and Wendy. It was my mother's. She gave it to me when I was 8 years old. I read it over and over again. I wished and hoped and prayed, night after night, to meet Peter Pan and fly away to Neverland. Anything to get out of Albany and away from my father."

  He looked over Marnie's head at me with a wan smile. "And look where it brought me."

  We sat there in silence for a long while. I could hear Carter sniffing slightly. I let go of Marnie's hand, reached around her, and put my hand on Carter's shoulder. He put his left hand on top of mine. It was warm and it felt good.

  I closed my eyes and tried to imagine what we looked like from the outside. Two huge men bookending a skinny one and a cute gal in the middle.

  Right then, Mike said, "Here's what I wanna do." />
  "What?" I asked.

  "I wanna hit the head and then I wanna finish the conversation we've been having."

  "Sounds good," said Carter. "I'll go with you."

  The two of them stood and made their way across the room and through the front door.

  I said, "Remember the first day you came to work and I didn't have anything to do?"

  Marnie laughed. "Sure. That's when I learned to knit."

  "I never see you do that anymore."

  "Who has time to knit these days? I'm finally busy all day when I come to work. And I like it."

  I leaned in and kissed her on the cheek. "I'm sorry, Marnie."

  She sighed and didn't move. "I love you, Nick."

  "I love you, too, doll."

  Carter walked in right then and stopped, in front of my desk, looking at us. He didn't say anything. He stood where he was and just watched.

  "What?" I asked.

  "You two." He smiled wanly.

  I said to Marnie, "Will you excuse me for a moment, doll?" She made a move to stand and I said, "No, wait here. We'll be back in a minute."

  She nodded as I stood. I looked down at her and grinned. "You really are the best."

  She giggled. "Oh, Nick."

  . . .

  I pushed Carter down the hall to his office. Once we were inside, I closed the door and stood against it.

  "What?" he asked.

  "I really am sorry, Carter."

  He nodded with a sigh. "I know you are. But, I gotta tell you, it's gonna take me a while to shake this."

  I looked at him but didn't say anything.

  "You hurt me, Nick." He shrugged. "I don't know any other way to put it." He looked down at his desk and moved the box of pencils from one side to the other. "I feel all hollow, just like I did when you left me in Sacramento. Back in 1948."

  "You had a conference—"

  He put out his hand. "I know the story, Nick. You're just gonna have to give me some time on this one."

  I swallowed, trying not to let the tears escape. "Is there anything I can do?"

  He shook his head. "Nope. Just let me be me, if you can."

  I nodded. "Sure, Chief."

  He smiled at me wanly.

  . . .

  "Here's what I'm proposing. It's basically what seems to happen naturally and we've all been fighting against it." That was Mike. "This morning, when I got wind that you'd been out investigating without bringing me in on the details, I sat in my office and thought about it. Once I got over being angry, I realized that maybe..." He looked at me hesitatingly. "Well, maybe when I say that you should be you, well, maybe I really should. When it comes down to it, you know what you're doing. You're a good private dick. So, when we meet during the week for reports, how about you start bringing your own in. Marnie can take your dictation and type them up. How's that sound?"

  Carter asked, "What about me?"

  I looked over at him. We were both on the sofa and he was sitting next to me, not too close, but close. Mike was back in his chair and Marnie was in hers. I nodded. "Yeah. What about Carter?"

  Mike shrugged. "Fine. We can all bring reports. That means you're gonna have to finally hire yourself a secretary, Carter."

  He looked at Marnie and asked, "Can you take care of that?"

  She nodded. "Of course. I can have one here by Monday."

  Mike said, "Good. That was really all I was thinking of."

  I knew he didn't mean to, but it hit me in the gut. I took in a deep breath and said, "Sounds like we're done here."

  We all looked at each other. I reached over and picked up the bottle. It had been sitting on the coffee table, uncorked, the whole time. I took a swig and passed it to Carter. He did the same and it went around until we'd all had some. I stood, carried the bottle back to the credenza and put the cork in.

  . . .

  "I think I'm gonna walk home." That was Carter. Mike and Marnie had already left. I was pulling the door to my office closed and turning out the lights when he spoke.

  "OK." I couldn't think of anything else to say.

  "To clear my head."

  I followed him over to the elevator lobby. He pushed the down button and looked up at the electronic lights over the elevator door.

  I finally said, "Sure." I looked up and watched the illuminated floor numbers change from 4 to 5 to 6 and up.

  When the door opened, Carter extended his arm, indicating I should go in first. I did just that and felt the slight jump in the car as he walked in. Pressing the button for the lobby and the garage, I said, "I'll take the Roadmaster home." I suddenly had a thought as the door closed. "I'm going for a drive. Since it's a holiday, there won't be much traffic."

  Carter didn't immediately reply. Finally, he said, "Sure. That's fine."

  I blinked, trying to remember when, if ever, we'd done something like that. We'd spent as much time together as we could when he'd been a fireman. And then, once we were working together, we were inseparable, only doing things apart if we had to. Maybe it wasn't a bad idea to have some alone time.

  The elevator stopped at the lobby. As the door opened, Carter put on his hat and walked out without saying a word.

  The door closed and the elevator went down a level. I had a curious feeling of elation, all of a sudden. I felt as if a huge weight had been lifted off my shoulders, as if I'd been liberated from something.

  The door opened and I walked into the garage. Carter's Mercury was parked next to my Roadmaster. Ours were the only two cars there. Obviously, no one was in the building. All the offices had been closed for the holiday. As I opened the door to the Roadmaster, I tried to understand why I felt so free.

  Sliding behind the wheel, I started the ignition and backed up. Since there were no other cars besides Carter's, I thought I'd have some fun and drive around in circle before going up the ramp leading to Post Street.

  I made a big circle around the garage and, after I'd done it once, I did it again. It was an odd sensation. There was no one around to look out for. There was no one to be worried about. There was almost nothing I could hit. The Mercury was parked in the corner. I would have had to have driven right at it to hit the rear bumper. The concrete support columns were easy to avoid. I made a third circle.

  The top was down on the car and I decided to make a noise to see if it echoed.

  "Whoop!"

  There was a slight echo, mostly masked by the sound of the car's engine.

  After the fourth circle, I decided that was enough. I took the ramp up and followed the driveway to the street. As I sat there, with my arm up to indicate a right turn, I wondered about where to go.

  Chapter 9

  Golden Gate Bridge

  Marin County side

  Wednesday, October 12, 1955

  Half past 2 in the afternoon

  I was sitting in the car, looking across the bay at the City in the distance. I'd driven into Sausalito and picked up a ham sandwich on rye with brown mustard at a little store across the street from the Rexall on Bridgeway. I'd also picked up a pack of Camels and a bottle of Pepsi, for a change.

  As the seagulls got wind of me and my sandwich, they began to swoop over my head. A couple of them stood on the ground, a few feet from the car door, looking up and waiting for me to do what the tourists usually did. But I was a native. I didn't feed the birds.

  Once I was done with my sandwich, I crumpled the wax paper into a ball and threw it onto the floorboard on the passenger side. I took a long drink of my Pepsi and burped. I suddenly realized I didn't really like it. It was too sweet.

  I got out of the car and took the bottle over to a grassy area, poured it out, and dropped it in a nearby trash can. As I did, a seagull swooped by, investigating to see if I was ready to give in and feed the group. I wasn't. I had eaten what they wanted and that was that.

  Walking back over to the car, I watched as a Ford station wagon with Texas plates pulled into the parking area. The mom and dad both looked harassed. Once they
were parked, the dad stayed where he was and lit up a cigarette.

  The mom got out and opened the door to the backseat. Two sets of twins popped out. One set looked to be about 8. They were boys and were wearing matching blue windbreakers. The other set were a boy and a girl and looked to be aged 5 or so. He had a light blue windbreaker and she had a pink one. The mom was wearing a green version of the same style. I wondered if she'd ordered them out of the Sears catalog just for their cross-country trip.

  "Hey, bud," asked the dad, looking at me through the open window of the car door.

  "Yeah?" I said, walking towards him as the mom tried to get the kids to line up for a picture with the bridge behind them.

  "You live around here?" He had a slight twang in his voice, but it wasn't that strong. I wondered if he might be in the military because he had that kind of haircut. He was blond, with blue eyes, and was wearing a short-sleeved rayon shirt, yellow with a black diamond pattern.

  I nodded. "Over the bridge in the City."

  "You know a good place to eat around here? Where it's easy to park?"

  I smiled. "Sure." I pointed at the road in the just beyond the parking area. "Just follow that road around the hill. You'll come into Sausalito. There's a Rexall on the right. They have a counter and they serve a decent hamburger sandwich."

  He took a drag on his cigarette and exhaled. "Thanks. I was scared to try and park on them hills. You know what I mean?"

  I nodded. "Takes some getting used to. Is that a Camel?"

  He looked at the cigarette and shook his head. "Pall Mall."

  "Like Camels?"

  He shrugged. "All taste the same to me."

  I pulled the pack I'd bought out of my pocket and tossed it at him. He caught it and said, "You don't want these?"

  I shook my head. "I quit. Was about to give in to temptation but just decided I'd better not."

  He put the pack on the seat next to him and asked, "You grow up here?"

  "Yeah. Born and raised. Where are you from?"

  "My wife and me were born in Kansas, just outside of Kansas City, Kansas. The kids were all born in San Antonio. That's where I'm stationed."

  "How long are you in town for?"