Gene Wolfe - An Evil Guest

“She’d have gotten somebody to take care of it, that’s all.”

“I hope so, somebody to come in and feed the cat, clean the cat box, and water the plants. But sometimes people don’t.”

“Margaret isn’t people. I’ve seen enough of her to know she’d have done it. Aren’t you going to open that envelope?” India pointed.

“Not ’til you’re gone.”

“It’s probably from Wally.”

“I’m sure it is.” Largely to herself, Cassie nodded. “It’s probably just personal, though. If it says anything you ought to know about, I’ll tell you.”

“Got it.” India grunted and stood up, a moderately lengthy operation. After a final curious glance at the envelope, she went out.

Cassie herself rose as soon as she was gone, and bolted the door.

My Darling, do you know how much I love you? You will close in Springfield in two days. In three you will be the Queen of Paradise. I will send a friend to you. Three times he will use a word to remind you of me. Go with him. He will take you to me and I will bring you to Paradise, where you will see how much I love you

Cassie laid the note aside, wishing desperately that she had someone to talk to. Margaret was gone, only God knew where. Gid was gone as well. Much of what Gid said might be rubbish, but...

Should she burn it? She had no matches, and might set fire to the theater if she tried. She picked the note up again.

Do you know how much I love you?

Someone was rapping on her door. Cassie called out, and a familiar voice answered, “It’s me, Norma. Want to split a cab back to the hotel?”

“Just a minute.” She opened the door. “I haven’t changed yet, but... but I hope you’ll wait. I’ll be as fast as I can.”

“I’ll help.”

The help included holding Cassie’s navy-blue wool coat while she slipped into it. “Cold out there, Norma?”

“It’s bound to be, this late. The rain’s stopped, though. I looked out the window.”

“So did I, but I didn’t even notice the rain. I’ve got a problem. A big one so complicated I don’t even know if I can tell you about it. Make it clear, you know? It’s not clear to me.”

“Let’s hear it.”

“Just like that?” Cassie realized that she was miss-buttoning her coat and started over. “I thought maybe you had something.”

“I do, Cassie, but you first.” Norma smiled, warm and friendly. “You’re our star.”

“All right.” Had she worn her beret? She glanced around and decided she had not. “Let’s start with this. Wally scares me.”

Norma nodded. “Me, too. He scares everybody.”

“Can you love a man who scares you? I feel as if I shouldn’t be able to do that, but...”

“You like him.”

“You’re right.” Cassie sighed. “I do. He’s a stand-up, no buckshot guy. That’s how he seems to me. Is it all right if I say buckshot ? Everybody else says bullshit .”

The smile became a grin. “They talk it, too. Sure. Say whatever you feel like saying.”

“He wants me to go someplace with him. He’s promising a lot, but it sounds crazy.”

“Go where?”

“That’s it. Or part of it. I don’t know.”

“Some terrible place, right? Death Valley in the summer.”

“Please don’t make jokes. He says it’s paradise.”

“That means a resort. Great weather, surfing, maybe scuba diving. You know. Great food and a spa. You’re not married, are you, Cassie?”

“Not now. Divorced.”

“Me, too. I used to be married to the volcano god. Did you know?”

“Vince? I’m ready to go if you are.” Cassie gestured toward the door. “That must have been weird.”

“We were both younger then. It wasn’t too bad. After a couple of years I explained that what he really wanted wasn’t a wife, it was a servant who screwed. We split, and there were no hard feelings.”

For a moment, Cassie gnawed her lower lip. “Are you sorry now?”

“Sometimes.” Norma finished buttoning her own coat; it was black wool and a little longer than Cassie’s. “But not mostly.”

The theater was silent, the audience gone. Where it had been, the ushers would be cleaning up — collecting programs, and the plastic cups in which the cash bar served drinks between the acts.

“I’m sorry about Herbie, sometimes. Never about dumping Scott.”

“What’s that, Cassie? I didn’t quite catch it.”

A dancer trotted past without a word, hurrying home, perhaps, or hurrying off to the Pink Lemonade Stand for a drink with the boys.

“I said Wally took me to dinner at Rusterman’s one time. Did I ever tell you about that?”

Norma shook her head.

“I met him there. He said he’d been hoping to take me himself, but he couldn’t make it. He’d be there as soon as he could.”

“Sounds bad.”

“I don’t know.” Cassie stopped, held where she was by her own feelings. “He’d made a reservation, and they took me to the table and treated me like the Queen of Sheba. Then my doorman phoned. My place had been broken into and the police were on the way.”

“Are you saying it was him? Mr. Rosenquist?”

Cassie nodded. “This is confidential. Please. If you let it out you might ruin us.”

“Right. I understand.”

“I know it was him. He told me when he joined me at Rusterman’s.”

“He admitted it?”

“He did. He has enemies, and he felt he had to check up on me. He didn’t take anything. So I thought of the show, and you and me and India and everybody. And I smiled and said, fine now you know you can trust me.”

“Good for you!”

“We sparred around a little. No, we sparred around a lot, and when dinner was over we got up and I took his arm — you know how you do — and we walked out of our private room and through the restaurant. And I was holding on to this big important man, almost a foot taller than I am, in a thousand-dollar suit. Everybody looked, and everybody was impressed. I’d been drinking wine with dinner, but that was better than any wine I ever drank. This wasn’t just some handsome twit. I’ve had three or four of those. This was a — I don’t know.”

“The alpha male,” Norma supplied.

“Right. A Man with a capital M. He told me after how proud he was because every man who saw us wanted to be him. I’ve never told him I felt prouder than he did.”

The security guard touched his cap and opened the stage door.

“He’s an alpha male,” Cassie continued, “like you say, if that means what I think it does. He can be hurt, just the same. I could hurt him at least as easily as he could hurt me. As tough as he is and as smart as he is, he’s terribly vulnerable. Oh, darn it, Norma, I like him! I do, and I can’t help myself. I don’t want to hurt him. Should I go with him? Go with him to his crazy paradise? Tell me.”

Norma nodded. “I would. I heard about the bracelet.”

Cassie breathed deeply, drawing in the cold, stale air of the alley. “Somebody I trust told me once that he was — was... Well, never mind.”

“Bad, huh? That bracelet didn’t sound bad.”

Cassie nodded. “It’s devastating, really, and then there’s the kidnapping. You must have heard from Gil. Zelda and Ebony are still back home, and Margaret — Margaret...” She felt she was choking, and paused to push aside an empty beer can. “Another darned old alley!”

Norma gestured. “Come on, if we hike up to Fifth Street — ”

“I know.”

“Well, sure. Listen, Cassie, we will be getting a whole bunch of new people. It’s not just Gil for Dean Heeny.”

Wearily, she nodded. There were few pedestrians at this time of night; the street, which had been glutted with traffic an hour ago, was almost deserted as well. A black-and-white police cruiser glided past and was gone.