People in the town had facial expressions that were almost wax-fixed, showing no emotion, like the faces of the dead, for everything that happened to them was like life under a rock — with the rock never letting on about the crawling world it hid.
— FROM Population 12,360
HE FOUND HER in the lobby of the hotel.
She said, “Why, Frederick, what are you doing here?”
“Looking for you,” he said.
“How flattering!” Min Stewart beamed.
Freddy Fulton took her arm, guiding her toward the rear door, which led to the parking lot. “My car’s outside.”
“Service with a smile,” said Min. “Except that you don’t seem to be smiling very much this afternoon, Frederick.”
“Min, have you seen Virginia?”
“No.”
“I’m in quite a state.” “I can see that you are.” “May I drop you somewhere?”
“As a matter of fact,” said Min Stewart, “I’ve been thinking of calling for Louie at Jay Mannerheim’s office.” She looked at her watch. “It’s two-fifteen now. He should be free in another fifteen minutes. But I don’t mind waiting.” She chuckled. “In fact, I rather enjoy thumbing through all of Jay’s magazines.”
“My car’s over there,” Freddy Fulton said.
“I had a lovely shad for lunch. Have you eaten at the hotel recently, Frederick? The food’s quite good. It’s a change from Oswald Ripley’s management!”
“I haven’t, but Fern has. She gave me the same report.”
“Oh, it’s quite agreeable now.”
“It’s about time,” said Fulton.
“Yes. Yes,” Min Stewart nodded.
When he slammed the door shut, after getting Min in on the other side, he faced her, and she nodded again. But this time it was different. It was a gesture that said, “I understand.”
“Trouble,” was all Freddy said. He started the car. “Shall we go right to Jay’s?”
“Yes, we’d better, unless you have — ”
“Min, I don’t know what I have. I just wish Gloria Wealdon had stayed away!”
“Have you seen her since she had lunch with me?”
“Yes.”
Min said, “I see.”
“I’m worried about Virginia. I thought Virginia might have tried to get hold of Gloria. Now I don’t know what to think. I’m afraid to think.”
“I don’t understand,” said Min.
“I know you don’t, Min.”
“What has Virginia got to do with it?”
“I’m going to have to tell you something that I don’t want to tell you, but you’re the only person I can tell.”
“It sounds serious, Frederick.”
“It is, Min. I think I’ll just tell you — just tell you everything, without any explanations or embellishments. Is that all right?”
“Do you mean without anyexcuses or embellishments?”
“I suppose I do mean that,” said Freddy Fulton, “I might as well say what I mean from the beginning.”
Min Stewart sat back in the Packard’s front seat, stared straight ahead, and placed her hands in her lap. “Continue,” she said.
• • •
At the Cayuta Retreat, one of the switchboard operators guffawed at the male nurse’s joke. “ ‘At’s good,” he said, “so long as you love your mother, huh? Boy, that’s funny! So long as you love your mother! What you got to worry about, huh? So long as you love your mother! Oh boy!”
“Take your call,” said the nurse.
“As if I don’t know who it’s going to be,” the switchboard operator said. He yanked the plug out and then in. “Cayuta Retreat,” he said.
He made a face of exaggerated patience. “Yes, Dr. Mannerheim.” He said, “I am not the man in charge here. I only work the board, Dr. Mannerheim, so don’t sound off at me, see! … Yeah, yeah, I know that, and so does Dr. Waterman know it, and we’re going to take care of you just as soon as — ”
He held the arm of the phone out while the voice continued to rage. He yawned for the benefit of the male nurse, then pretended to plug his ears.
Then the switchboard operator said, “As soon as possible, Dr. Mannerheim. Yes, sir. Yes, sir. Right away, sir. Of course, sir. Anything you say, sir. Goodbye, sir,” hanging up the phone. “And go to hell, sir!” he shouted at the instrument.
He said to the male nurse, “Can you imagine that? Calls up and tells us he’s got a catalonic schizophrenic over there we should come and get! Nerve!”
“Catatonic.”
“Huh? Okay, catatonic, catalonic, cataschmonic … so long as he loves his mother, huh?” he laughed at that for quite a few seconds.
“Mannerheim, huh?”
“Yeah. He’s not even a doctor.”
“He’s a psychologist. They don’t have to be doctors.”
“They don’t have to call up and chew me out neither. What can I do? Do I own the Retreat?”
“Did Dr. Waterman do anything about it?”
“He will.”
“How many times has he called?”
“Three, four — how do I know? He thinks he’s some kinda big deal. I got a catalonic schizophrenic over here, he says. SoI gotta common cold!”
“I heard he lost some patients because of that book.”
“Yeah?” The switchboard operator made an obscene gesture. “He shouldn’t fool around then.”
“Not because of that. Because of the part about income tax.”
“Yeah? I don’t remember,” he said. “That’s a part I musta skipped.”
“Naturally,” the male nurse laughed. He said, “People around here were taking him off their income tax. You know. Medical expense.”
“So?”
“Well, it’s the way you said. He’s not a doctor. It’s against the law.” “No kidding?”
“He’s not doing anything wrong, see? It’s just that the law says an M.D. has to head-shrink you, if you want it off your tax.”
“I don’t go for that psychoalley stuff.”
“A while back I had an idea to massage people,” said the male nurse, “relax them and everything. Go right to their homes.”
“Yeah?”
“Heck, I’m a nurse, aren’t I? So why couldn’t people take it off their income tax? I’d be giving them help, wouldn’t I?”
“I don’t know,” said the switchboard operator. “I wouldn’t let you nearmy wife.”
“This would be for men, too, don’t you get it? I mean, I’d massage men, too!”
“Come to think of it,” said the switchboard operator, “I wouldn’t let you near me either.”
“Oh,you’d have a lot to worry about,you would.”
“Th-ure, why not? Th-ome people think I’m adorable!”
The pair laughed at the switchboard operator’s swishy inflection.
“Anyway,” said the nurse after,
“it wouldn’t have been deductible. I asked around and Bill Farley down at City Hall told me no dice.”
From around the corner, a man in a dark blue suit appeared.
“What about that ambulance for Mannerheim?” he asked the switchboard operator.
“None’s gone yet, Dr. Waterman.”
“Do you want to go along on this one?” the doctor asked the nurse.
“Sure.”
“Call Number Three and tell them to go there,” the doctor said, “and check that address. I think it might be his home address. It’s Saturday.”
“It’s his office address,” said the switchboard operator. “Check on it anyway.”
The doctor left through the revolving door. “Just your luck,” the switchboard operator said. “You get to wrestle with some nut on a hot afternoon in May.” “Catatonics are usually quiet.” “Yeah?”
“Real vegetables. The ones that sit around on the wards in the same position.”
“Ready to pick up: one vegetable,” said the switchboard operator as he dialed.
“Besides, I’d rather be out on a call then sitting around here.”
“Was’ the matter, lover, don’t you thee I think you’re thwell?” the switchboard operator laughed. Then he said, “Hello, Dr. Mannerheim? This is the Cayuta Re — What?”
He listened a moment, and then he put down the phone in its cradle. “Well!” he said.
“What’s the matter?”
“He flew the coop,” said the switchboard operator. “The catalonic took off on the doctor.”
“Great! I’ll bet Mannerheim’s steamed.”
“Real steamed, buddy-boy,” said the switchboard operator. “Very very steamed! Well, so,” he fished under the counter forLife Magazine, “should it work my blood pressure up because there’s another nut loose? So long as I love my mother, isn’t that right, nurse?”