“That’s what the Browning people are always telling people, in essence, ‘Your scores will rise as does the price you paid for one of our better shotguns.’ It is just not true.”
“Try telling that to Little K.J.,” Gladys said.
“I would be happy to, if you’d like.”
“Why would he believe you?”
“At the risk of sounding immodest, once he sees me shooting doubles off your pier with my back facing the flight path with my head and my own Diamond Grade Full Factory Engraved Over and Under shotgun with gold trigger between my knees, he’ll believe anything I tell him.”
“I think that would do it,” Gladys said. “Tell me about your wife, Philip. She obviously didn’t marry you for your money, as you’re keeping your affluence under wraps so as to conceal it from her. How would you describe her in one or two or perhaps as many as five words?”
Phil moved his lips as he counted to five on his fingers, and then said, “Decent, honorable, but often difficult.”
“I understand, Phil, as that could be said about my friend Madame Violet Tenser-Schultz McNamara, who as I mentioned is—or was fifty years ago—also a Viennese ballet dancer. Phil, do you think it would be possible for you to point my jackass son away from airheaded blondes with tight rear ends and large bosoms and toward some females who are decent and honorable, if sometimes difficult? I would truly be grateful.”
“Well, Gladys, I’m sure you know what they say about being able to lead jackasses to water, which in this case would be decent, honorable but often difficult females, but I’ll have a shot at it, if you’d like.”
“I’ll think of some way to get you together.”
“I’m at your service, Gladys. Is there anything else I can do for you?”
“Yes, there is. But I truly hesitate to ask.”
“Feel free to ask away.”
“I realize that it’s asking a great deal, but do you think you could find it in your heart to autograph my personal first edition copy of Comfort Me With Love? The one that sold for a quarter and is now worth on the used-book market between three and five hundred dollars?”
“I would be happy to do so.”
“Good. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. Just as soon as I get off the phone, I’ll get it out of the safe and Rollo, the bell captain at the Grand, will get in the hotel’s VIP Guest Rolls-Royce and bring it to you. Together with of course all the paraphernalia that comes to new members of the Foggy Point Country Club.”
An hour later, Gladys called Phil.
“I am touched to tears by your inscription in Comfort Me With Love,” she said, her voice breaking with emotion.
“I thought you might be pleased,” Phil said.
What he had written was:
To Gladys,
With fond wishes from her fond confidant, who trusts her with his secrets as she trusts him with hers.
Wally
(Wallingford Philips)
[ FOUR ]
Goodhope, Mississippi
Monday, March 7, 1955
Phil thought it almost inevitable that Brunhilde would eventually get to meet Madame Violet Tenser-Schultz McNamara, as they shared a common background in that both had been dancers in the Corps de Ballet of the Vienna State Opera in Austria.
But he really could not have had any idea how soon that would happen, nor, in his wildest imagination, could not have guessed how it would change his and her social status in and around Muddiebay, Goodhope, and Foggy Point.
What happened was that three weeks after Phil and Gladys had become chums, Brunhilde saw an announcement in The Muddiebay Register-Press newspaper announcing a special, all–Johann Strauss program of Viennese music by the Muddiebay Symphonic Orchestra. It was going to be presented the following evening at the Muddiebay Symphony and Livestock Auction Hall in downtown Muddiebay.
Brunhilde thereupon announced that Phil was going to take her to this performance or could expect to sleep in the backseat of his Jaguar until death did them part.
Actually, Phil didn’t mind all that much going. He liked Strauss and felt a little sorry for Brunhilde because, although her advertisement had been running every day in The Muddiebay Register-Press newspaper, there had been zero applications for matriculation in the Brunhilde Wienerwald School of Classical Viennese Opera Ballet Dancing, which would be taught by a former dancer of the Corps de Ballet of the Vienna State Opera in Austria.
Brunhilde of course had the proper clothing to go to a symphony concert. Phil of course did not. But by then he had learned that the Goodhope Slightly Used Children’s Clothing Discount Outlet had a sister—or perhaps brother—outlet, the Goodhope Slightly Used Gentlemen’s Clothing Discount Outlet.
He went there and lucked out, and for $39.95 managed to deck himself out in white tie and tails. The collar was a little tight, and the tails a little long, but he thought he looked pretty spiffy when he loaded Brunhilde into the Jaguar for the thirty-odd-mile drive across the Muddiebay Causeway to the Muddiebay Symphony and Livestock Auction Hall in downtown Muddiebay.
When they entered the hall, a large and imposing septuagenarian woman—who was wearing about three pounds of pearls, a diamond tiara matching her dangling eight-inch diamond earrings, and an ankle-length mink coat—was standing in the middle of the entrance foyer.
“Mein Gott!” Brunhilde said. “Will you look at that? She looks like a Hungarian madam who somehow got herself stuffed by a taxidermist.”
Brunhilde spoke in German, because she knew her husband did, and she did not think it would be polite to share her little bon mot with the maybe three hundred other people in the entrance foyer who did not.
“Did I hear you speaking German in a gutter Viennese accent?” the septuagenarian asked, also in German.
“What’s it to you, fat old Hungarian madam?” Brunhilde responded. “Who speaks lousy German in the patois of a Hungarian brothel madam.”
“Well, if your name is Brunhilde Wienerwald, who is trying to pass herself off as a former member of the Corps de Ballet of the Vienna State Opera, I am here to expose you as a fraud before all these people.”
“What makes you think Brunhilde Wienerwald isn’t a former member of the Corps de Ballet of the Vienna State Opera, you overstuffed former brothel-keeper in your Shetland pony fur coat, glass fake diamonds, and pounds of phony pearls?”
“What would a former member of the Corps de Ballet of the Vienna State Opera be doing here in Muddiebay, Mississippi?”
“Well, off the top of my head, fat lady ex-madam, maybe she got carried away by lust and as a result had to marry a gottverdammt American who just moved here.”
“Oddly enough, I’ve heard of that happening. As a matter of fact, fifty odd years ago, it happened to me, when I myself was a member of the Corps de Ballet of the Vienna State Opera.”
“And why should you expect me to believe that you are a former member of the Corps de Ballet of the Vienna State Opera?”
“Because I know all the backstage secrets of my beloved Corps and I’ll bet you don’t.”
“For example?”
“For example, how do members of the Corps de Ballet refer to the third stall in the ladies’ restroom into which only lady members of the Corps de Ballet in the rank of dancer and above are permitted?”
“Ach, mein lieber Gott!” Brunhilde said. “If you know about that, then you must be bona fide and not a Hungarian whorehouse keeper.”
“Answer the question.”
“The Gusher,” Brunhilde said. “Or Mount Vesuvius.”
“And why do they call it that?”
“Because when you sit down on that thing, and do your business, and then yank on the chain, instead of the water going down, it erupts, or gushes, upward like Mount Vesuvius.”
Madame Violet Tenser-Schultz McNamara reached for Brunhilde and
gathered her to her breast.
“My dear sweet girl, I have misjudged you. Welcome, welcome, to Muddiebay, Mississippi!”
Then she turned and pointed to a septuagenarian gentleman in white tie and tails.
“That’s my gottverdammt American,” she said. “His name is Archie. Did you bring yours?”
Brunhilde pointed. “His name is Phil.”
“Archie,” Madame Violet ordered, “take this charming young woman and her gottverdammt American husband here to our box and give them a little champagne while I have a word with Whatsisname, the guy who owns the grocery stores, about a little announcement I want him to make before Maestro Whatsisname strikes up the band.”
“Yes, dear,” Archie said.
—
Five minutes later, a diminutive gentleman in white tie and tails and holding a baton allowing Phil to intuit he was Maestro Whatsisname, walked onto the stage to somewhat less than enthusiastic applause.
Then another gentleman walked onto the stage to somewhat greater applause, waited for it to die down, which didn’t take long, and announced:
“I have an announcement, ladies and gentlemen, to make before the program begins. The Patroness of the Muddiebay Symphonic Orchestra, Madame Violet Tenser-Schultz McNamara, has told me that we have a distinguished guest in the audience tonight. She, like Madame Violet Tenser-Schultz McNamara, is a former dancer in the Corps de Ballet of the Vienna State Opera. Her name is Brunhilde Wienerwald and she’s sitting up there beside Madame Violet in the Patroness’s box. Why don’t we give Madame Brunhilde a great big hand before the performance begins?”
They did, and the performance of the Muddiebay Symphonic Orchestra Viennese music began with “The Blue Danube,” which is the name of the river, which is actually pretty muddy, rather than blue, that runs through the city of Vienna.
Phil was soon to learn the maestro’s name was Stefan Woznitski and that he hated Viennese music.
The reason Phil learned this was because he had a visitor the very next day as he was writing creatively in his garage office on Creek Drive. Phil had never met him before, but his face was familiar because he had been the gentleman who made the announcement the previous evening about Madame Brunhilde—and also because the large sign over Champ’s Food Store #109 right there in Goodhope had his smiling face on it.
“Mr. Williams, I am Del Champs, president of Champ’s Food Stores and of the Muddiebay Symphonic Orchestra. I am here to ask you to—to beg you to, if it comes to that—to accept a position on the Muddiebay Symphonic Orchestra’s board of directors.”
“That’s very kind of you, but I think I’ll have to pass. Thank you just the same.”
“May I ask why?”
“May I speak freely?”
“Of course.”
“While I certainly don’t pretend to be an expert in classical musical, I couldn’t help but think last night—as Maestro Woznitski led the Muddiebay Symphonic Orchestra in its version of ‘The Blue Danube,’ also known as ‘An der schönen blauen Donau’—that its composer, Johann Strauss the Second, sometimes known as Johann Strauss the Younger, never intended it to be played on two empty fifty-five-gallon oil drums, one xylophone, one steam whistle, and one jawbone of an ass. With that in mind, I don’t think I’d be a happy camper on your board of directors.”
“Well, let me first agree with that assessment of what Maestro Stefan Woznitski gave us last night. He tends to hate melodious Viennese music, preferring instead the compositions of modern—that is to say, painfully discordant—composers. Between you and me, Mr. Williams, I can’t stand the Polack EXPLETIVE DELETED!! or his EXPLETIVE DELETED!! incredibly awful choice of musical selections. Two weeks ago, he had the orchestra play ‘Ode to a Parisian Pissoir’ by the Herzegovinian composer Humberto Jones. That really EXPLETIVE DELETED!! up my eardrums.”
“Then why is he the conductor?”
“Because Madame Violet Tenser-Schultz McNamara likes him, and Archie McNamara is one of the major contributors to the Muddiebay Symphonic Orchestra, which usually runs at a loss.”
“Well, that would explain that, I guess. What about the other supporters?”
“There’s three other major contributors. One wishes to keep his support secret, because he’s afraid of Madame Violet, the second is K. J. O’Hara, Senior, and I’m the other one.”
“And what does Mr. McNamara think of Maestro Stefan Woznitski?”
“When Madame Violet’s not around, Archie calls Maestro Woznitski ‘that EXPLETIVE DELETED!! Polish Pissant.’”
“Then why does he give the money?”
“Archie said, when he sent me here today to ask you to join the board of directors, that, inasmuch as you’re married to one of them, you may know how difficult former members of the Corps de Ballet of the Vienna State Opera can be on occasion.”
“Ah. As indeed I do. Why do you think he told you to tell me that?”
“Archie also said that if your former member of the Corps de Ballet is as fond of Slivovitz, which I understand is a brandy distilled from Hungarian plums, as his, that is to say, Madame Violet is, he may have a solution for the dilemma.”
“Which is?”
“That, to celebrate your swearing in as a member of the board, Madame Violet will have a small dinner at the McNamara mansion, which is called ‘Pine Tree House’ even though it’s made of the finest California redwood, because Archie owns more pine tree forests in the South than anybody but Randolph C. Bruce, who with a little luck will never enter your life . . . Where was I?”
“Small dinner at Pine Tree House,” Phil furnished.
“Right. At which dinner will be Archie and Madame Violet, and me as president of the symphony, and my wife, and you as the guest of honor, and of course your former ballet dancer. You and Archie will ply your respective wives with Slivovitz.”
“That won’t be hard. And what happens when the two ladies are bombed out of their minds?”
“You will drop into the conversation that you deeply admire Maestro Woznitski’s version of ‘The Blue Danube’ because it is so much better than the overrated version of the original composition by that overrated Viennese composer Johann Strauss the Second. If you can get your wife to disagree with you—”
“No problem there.”
“—this would cause Madame Violet to ally herself with your wife.”
“That seems to be a very reasonable assumption to make.”
“Then—this is where you really come in—you say that since you admire Maestro Woznitski so much that you couldn’t possibly agree to fire him, despite all the unkind things he has been saying about both old and younger former members of the Corps de Ballet, even though firing him would please you, because you think that all former members of the Vienna Opera, young and old, are treasures.
“To which Archie will add, ‘And I won’t, either.’”
“And then,” Phil responded, having had an epiphany, “Madame Violet will say, ‘Archie, that miserable Polack has to go,’ or words to that effect.”
“Right!”
“And then Madame Brunhilde, as she now likes to be called, will say, ‘You heard what Madame Violet said, Phil, that EXPLETIVE DELETED!! Polack has to go. And you will vote to get rid of the EXPLETIVE DELETED!!.’”
But then Phil had a second thought: “But what if Madame Violet and/or Madame Brunhilde asks, ‘What unkind things has Maestro Woznitski been saying about our beloved Corps?’”
“Then, Phil, you would have to lie,” Del Champs said. “And come up with something that would really enrage them. Could you handle that?”
“Del, old boy, entre nous, I have had professional training in lying through my teeth or otherwise. Trust me when I tell you that you are looking at one of the best liars you’ll ever meet in this backwater of the world.”
“I’m happy to hear that. So I can tell
Archie you’re onboard about being on the board?”
“Absolutely.”
[ FIVE ]
A month after Phil joined the board of directors of the Muddiebay Symphonic Orchestra, and a week after that body announced with deep regret the resignation of Maestro Stefan Woznitski because he planned to follow his musical muse elsewhere, Rollo the Grand Hotel bell captain rolled up at the door of 105 Creek Drive in the hotel Rolls to deliver an invitation:
Mr. and Mrs. K. J. O’Hara, Sr.
Request the Honor of the Presence of
Mr. and Mrs. P. W. Williams III
At Cocktails and Dinner
To Celebrate the Institution of the
McNamara-O’Hara Chair of Classical Ballet Dancing
At Hilly Springs College, Muddiebay, Mississippi
Tuesday next at 4:30 p.m.
1001 Scenic Highway 98
Foggy Point
White Black Tie
Répondez s’il vous plaît, et veuillez apporter votre chéquier
On reading it, Madame Brunhilde inquired, “What the hell does ‘white black tie’ mean? And what’s that Frog all about?”
“It means a white dinner jacket with a black bow tie,” Phil said. “This is going to be a classy social event.”
“And what does it say in Frog?”
“Essentially: ‘If it pleases you to do so, let us know if you’re coming—and bring your checkbook.’”
“You mean we have to pay to get in this classy social event?”
“It means that your new bosom buddy, Madame Violet, and Mrs. O’Hara, who is throwing the shindig, are graciously permitting the affluent members of the Muddiebay community, both those above and those below the salt, to make contributions to the McNamara-O’Hara Chair of Classical Ballet Dancing at Hilly Springs College, at which you will be an adjunct professor.”
The Hunting Trip Page 29