Private Pleasures

by Lawrence Sanders

  "I guess you're right," I said.

  "I know I'm right," Tania said. "Sometimes my father is nice to me when he remembers to be, but then he's up to his old tricks again. I hope you're not thinking of backing out, are you, Chet?"

  "Of course not."

  "Because if you change your mind, I don't care. I'll just run away by myself."

  "I'm not going to change my mind," I said. "How many times do I have to tell you?"

  We were sitting in our garage where we went so no one could see us. We were talking about what would be the best way to get to Disney World after we left her uncle's place, like, should we hitch a ride or take the bus? And suddenly, right out of the blue, Tania said, "You don't care for me." Boy, she really knew how to mix up a guy. I said, "I do so care for you. I kissed you, didn't I?"

  "oh, that," she said. "That didn't mean anything to you."

  "it did so, too."

  "I bet you've kissed lots of girls."

  "Well, I haven't."

  "Never?

  "Well, maybe one or two," I said.

  "Who were they? Do I know them?"

  "Nah," I said, "you don't know them-" That was a lie. "They were just girls."

  "Why did you kiss them?"

  "Holy moley!" I said. I was getting sore. "I don't remember why I kissed them. Okay?"

  "You don't care for me," she said again, and we were right back where we started.

  I began to think that if she was going to talk like that all the time, maybe it wasn't such a great idea to let her come along when I left home. I mean I couldn't figure out what she wanted.

  "Look," I said to her, "I don't ask you how many boys you've kissed."

  "Well, I haven't," she said. "You're the only one. So that proves how much I care for you. Because you're the only boy I've let kiss me."

  "Tell me what you want," I begged her. "Just tell me what you want me to say, and I'll say it."

  "That's no good," she said. "You've got to say it on your own." , Well, that was one talk we had in the garage, and I didn't know what she was getting at. I was all mixed up, and even though I thought about it a lot, I couldn't understand why she was, like, mad at me. I didn't do anything to her. I wished there was someone I could ask about it, but there wasn't.

  I was hoping she'd forget about it, but she didn't. Almost every time we talked she'd ask if I cared for her. I mean she really picked on me.

  "Now look here," I told her, "if we're going to be traveling, I'll take care of you. Don't worry about it.

  "That's not what I mean, Chet," she said.

  "Well, what do you mean?" I asked her.

  "When I ask if you care for me, I mean do you like me?"

  "Sure, I like you."

  She was quiet a while, then she said, "Do you love me?"

  Geez, she was something. First it was did I care for her, then it was did I like her, and now it was did I love her.

  "Wait a minute," I said. "Kids are supposed to love their parents, and maybe their relatives and a sister or brother, if they've got one. But kids aren't supposed to love other kids."

  "Who says so?" she said.

  "Everyone knows that. When you get grown up, it's okay to love someone and then you get married. But kids can't get married, so what's the point of loving someone? It wouldn't do you any good."

  "You can love someone and not get married," she argued.

  "Freddy Washburn told Velma Burkhardt he loved her, and they're just kids and can't get married. ,who told you that?"

  "Told me what?"

  "That Freddy Washburn told Velma Burkhardt he loved her."

  "Velma told me."

  "Well, Freddy Washburn is a real nerd, everyone knows that, and he was probably lying."

  "No, he wasn't," Tania said. "He gave Velma a friendship ring. it's got like this little blue stone in it. So that proves he loves her, Chet."

  "He probably found it in a box of Cracker Jack."

  "But he gave it to her. That's the point."

  "Well, what do you want me to do-give you a friendship ring?"

  "That would be nice," she said. "it would show you love me."

  "I didn't say I did."

  "Does that mean you don't?"

  "I didn't say I did, I didn't say I don't. What's important about it anyway?" so She sighed. "You just don't understand."

  "I sure don't," I said. "Explain it to me."

  "Well, if a boy says he loves a girl, then she is his girl and he can't love anyone else. And if a girl loves a boy, then she can't love anyone else either. It's just the two of them, forever and ever."

  "That's stupid," I said. "What if one of them moves away?" , "Then they write each other or talk on the telephone.

  "But what if one of them moves to like Russia and they never see each other again. What happens then? "

  "It doesn't make any difference, Chet," she said. "They've got to keep on loving each other, because they said so."

  "That's stupid," I said again. "It just don't make sense." "Doesn't," she said. "And it's not stupid. It means the boy and girl belong to each other. And if one of them gets hurt or gets sick, the other one takes care of them."

  I didn't say anything.

  "If I get hurt or sick, Chet," she said. "I mean after we run away.

  Will you take care of me?"

  "Sure," I said. "Of course I would. I wouldn't just leave you."

  "Well, that proves you love me. And if you gave me a friendship ring, it would be like a sign."

  "A sign of what?"

  "That we belong to each other."

  "Hey," I said, "it's awfully hot. Let's put our suits on and go to the pool."

  "All right," she said.

  I was glad she agreed. Talking about love and all that mush was making me nervous.

  I sat in that stinking wheelchair every day, and every day I wondered if I had been a goddamned fool not to accept Uncle Samuel's offer of prostheses and elbow canes. I don't know why I opted for a chair. I think maybe I didn't want to display my infirmity in public. Or maybe I wanted to play the martyr. who the hell knows. Do you always know why you do the things you do?

  That's especially true of moral choices. They're a bitch, because no one gives you a guid when you're born. You're supposed to learn by education, training, and experience. But sometimes you're faced with conflicts that nothing has prepared you for. There are no precedents, and common sense can only take you so far.

  What brought on that fit of introspection was the business of my niece, Tania, planning to run away from home. I figured that if I snitched on her, she'd never forgive me. But if I kept her plans secret, as I had promised, I could be endangering her safety. I didn't like to think of what kids like her and Chester Barrow might face on the road by themselves.

  So I batted it back and forth, and I finally decided to inform their parents. I told Cherry Noble what I was going to do.

  "I'm glad, Chas," she said. "Children are not just young adults, they're children and haven't yet learned to act in their own best interests."

  "I guess," I said. "I keep wishing Tania may eventually forgive and forget I betrayed her. And maybe it'll make the parents pay a little more attention to their kids. It's a gamble."

  "All our choices are gambles," Cherry said. "Aren't they?

  We try to calculate the odds and go with the decision that offers the best chance of success. But sometimes we go against the odds.

  That's called hope."

  "Thank you, doctor," I said.

  "How are you going to tell the parents?" she asked, ignoring my sarcasm. "Telephone them?"

  "No, that's too cold. Herman comes here for lunch every Thursday.

  I'll tell him then," "I think that's wise," she said. "Be sure to say or imply that you think it's the shortcomings of the parents that made Tania want to leave home. I wish you could talk to the mother, too."

  "I will," I vowed. "I'll tell Herman to ask her to come out here so I can talk to her one-on-one. I'm going
to be tough on them."

  "Good," Cherry said. "Even if Tania is imagining her grievances, they should be aware of them."

  So that was that, another crisis dealt with, a decision made.

  But I couldn't forget what Cherry had said about all our choices being gambles. The most important bet I had to make involved her.

  What convinced me were things I had said and things she had said about my book-in-progress, The Romance of Tommy Termite. It didn't take a giant brain to realize I was writing about myself.

  All of Tommy's indecisions were mine, and all his hopes were mine.

  That included love, marriage, home, family-the whole megillah.

  It wasn't that I was unhappy with the way things presently were between Cherry and me, ut our relationship irked me because it seemed b incomplete. There was something missing-and it wasn't just sex.

  It took me a while to figure out what was bugging me, but I finally identified it, There was no commitment.

  I had reached the point in my narrative where Tommy the Termite decides to give up his bachlorhood and ask Lucy to marry him. (I could hardly wait to write the termite wedding scene, that was going to be fun.) Anyway, Tommy goes through a lot of mental and emotional anguish before he decides to pop the question. He's afraid of giving up his independence. He's afraid of losing his freedom.

  He's afraid of taking on responsibilities he isn't sure he can handle.

  I was afraid of those things, too, and in addition I had the fear of impotence to overcome. It was no use saying the decision was a gamble, take a chance, and what did I have to lose. I had a lot to loseand so did Cherry Noble. Maybe it was because we had spent those years as analyst and analysand that I had little hesitation in talking to her about it. , "First of all," I said, "I want you to know that I realize this isn't wholly my decision to make. I have no idea what your reaction might be, but I know it's just as important or more important than mine. So you'll have your mind to make up after you help me make up mine. What I'm trying to say is that I'm not taking you for granted. I hope you understand that."

  "I understand," she said quietly.

  It might have been the first day of September but South Florida was still sweltering. I had finally sprung for a new air conditioner, a beast of a machine that could bring the inside temperature down to the point where you could hang fresh hams on the walls.

  It wasn't quite that cold, but I kept it chilly enough so that Cherry always brought a light sweater along when she came to visit. We were sitting close to each other, working on a bottle of Frascati, when I started my confession.

  I remember very well that the bathroom door was open and the light was on in there. It didn't provide much illumination for the big room, but it was a bright night, a full moon or close to it, and a pearly glow was coming through the windows. It was like being under water, looking up and seeing a wavery translucence, almost hypnotic.

  Cherry was paled by that light. It made her eyes seem dark and enormous. I suppose I looked as masked to her, and I thought it odd, because that night I wanted no part of disguises.

  "You must know I care for you," I started.

  "Care?" she said with a small smile. "That's rather insipid, wouldn't you say, Chas?"

  "How about I'm fond of you, " I said. "Is that better?

  "Not much."

  "You're a tough lady. All right, I like you. Will you buy that?"

  "You can do even better," she said. Try."

  "First let me tell you what's bothering Tommy the Termite."

  I told her about all his fears and the struggle he was going through trying to decide whether or not to propose to Lucy.

  "Those are my fears, too," I told Cherry.

  The bottle was in a bucket of ice at her feet. She leaned to refill our glasses. The wine looked as colorless as water in the moon t.

  "And what does Tommy decide?" she asked.

  "That's fiction," I said. "This is us."

  "And I thought you had made up your mind," she said mockingly. "After all, you did say you liked me."

  "Oh, God!" I burst out. "Care for, fond of, like, have affection for-is there anything I've left out?"

  She looked at me. Was she amused or hurt?

  "Whatever happened to love?" she said.

  "Ah," I said, "the four-letter word. What is it?

  Tell me that."

  I think she laughed. "Someone once asked Louis Armstrong what jazz was.

  He said, Man, if you gotta ask, you'll never know."

  "

  "At least tell me the symptoms."

  "An ache, uncertainty, a hope, longing."

  "That's it?

  "That's it."

  "I may have it," I said.

  All right, I was bewildered. You've got to picture me, a grizzled old fart planted in a wheelchair. And there was that slim, elegant woman, brainy, with the greatest legs God ever created. And she wanted me to say I loved her. I knew she did. And I couldn't. You'd say I had been popping stupid pills, wouldn't you?

  We stared at each other, and there were so many things unsaid, by me at least.

  "This is worse than going into a firefight," I said.

  "Is it so painful? I'm not pressuring you, you know. I wouldn't want you to think that."

  "I don't think it. All the pressure is coming from meand it's driving me nuts. Give me a clue, doc."

  "Chas, you're thinking about it too much, trying to solve your problem by linear reasoning."

  "Isn't that what I'm supposed to do?"

  "Not in matters of faith. That is determined by emotions.

  "Are you telling me love is a faith?"

  "That's exactly what I'm telling you. You can analyze the beiesus out of any faith, tear it to tatters with logic and reason. But if it's strong enough, it will survive."

  "That's heavy stuff," I said. "You want me to act on what I feel and not on what I think? " She nodded. "Follow your heart and not your head. Is that banal enough for you?"

  "Plenty," I told her. "It's what Tommy the Termite does.

  He decides to marry the girl, and they live happily ever after."

  "Well?" she said. don't scare easy, but I admit I was getting antsy.

  What happened was this, Willie and I had a meet with Jessica at her place, and she told us how she had spotted a black Camry driving past her house. But the guy behind the wheel, who Willie claimed was Teddy O an enforcer from Miami, Jess made as John R.

  Thompson, who had conned his. way into her home by posing as a property tax appraiser. , and they got no one by that name working for them. So the bastard diddled me. I should have my brain examined."

  I was spooked by the story, but Willie didn't lose his cool.

  "Let's not panic," he said. "I'm just guessing that Teddy O. is working for Big Bobby Gurk. But it's possible that he's cooking some caper of his own that's got nothing to do with the ZAP pill."

  "That's crap," I said, and I told them about Gurk's last visit when he told me he suspected the three of us were planning to dork him.

  "Oh, he knows all right," I said bitterly. "And I'm betting he and his bloody playmate are plotting something nasty."

  "Shit," Willie said, which surprised me, because usually he talked like a perfect gentleman.

  "Hey," Jessica said, "I think right now we could all use a belt.

  Chivas for you, Laura, vodka for me, and club soda for you, Willie.

  Okay?"

  She brought the drinks, and we sat there awhile without speaking. Jess and I were waiting to hear how Brevoort was going to handle these new developments. After all, the whole fucking deal was his idea, and he was supposed to be the ballsy honcho.

  "I still think our original scenario is a good one," he said finally.

  "But now we'll have to make a few minor adjustments.

  First of all, let's move up the schedule and make our move before Bobby Gurk and Teddy O. can hit on us. Suppose we do it on Wednesday, September second, at noon. All right with you ladies?" />
  Jessica and I nodded.

  "And since they may be tailing jess's car and mine, let's switch to your Taurus, Laura. Okay?"

  "Sure," I said. "Jess and I can trade cars for the day."

  "We'll still use this for our safe house," Willie went on, "because I'm convinced it won't be for more than one day.

  Gregory Barrow will hand over the pill after the first phone call, I'm sure of it, he'll be at work in the lab. But now the problem is how do we get Mabel Barrow out of the house on September second? If she's around, it might queer the whole operation."

  "That's easy," I said. phone Mabel on Wednesday morning and tell her Hashbeam's Boteek got in some new lingerie that's just right for her. She'll come running, I can practically guarantee it."

  "Good," Willie said. "Then I think that takes re of everything. Any questions?" ca "You'll be with me in the Taurus?" Jessica asked him.

  "Of course," he said. "That part of it will go just like we planned.

  We come back here, call the chemist at the lab, and that's it."

  "Willie," I said, "are you sure this cockamamy thing is going to work?"

  "I'm sure," he said. "It'll go like silk, you'll see." He still had half his club soda left, but Jess treated me and herself to refills.

  "Then what?" Jessica asked him. "Assuming we get the pill, what happens next? Go over it one more time."

  "All right," he said patiently. "I take off as planned. I go to another city, probably another state. I get the ZAP pill copied and the business organized. it might take a month or so, but trust me.

  I'm not going to shaft you. It's not my style.

  And I figure that after a month or so Gurk will lose interest. After all, what can he do? He hasn't got the name of the chemist so he can't glom on to another pill."

  "The asshole can come looking for us," I reminded, him. "Jess and I will still be here."

  "That's right," he agreed, "but you both knew that when you signed on for this. If he shows up, just tell him that I suddenly disappeared, you don't know where I went, and to the best of your knowledge I never did get the ZAP pill. I honestly don't think he's going to lean on you."

  We didn't say anything. Willie finished his drink and stood up.

  "I don't think we should meet again," he said, until this goes down.

  Let's stay in touch by phone. And by Wednesday or the day after this whole thing will be wrapped up, and we'll be on our way to easy street.