The Nude Wore Blaсk

Chapter Six

The madhouse?

A microcosm of the road of absolute logic starting from unexamined premises and arriving at complete lunacy. Haunted by the ghosts of Dienbienphu ogling Madame Nu. Creaky with the sounds of misdirected mortar fire and the crackle of defoliated human skin. Strictly run as a directive from Premier Ky sans apologia by Rusk, Mac-Namara, et al. Doctrinaire as a Freudian nightmare in Technicolor by Zanuck and edited by LBJ. Echoing with the cries of the Fugs in khaki enthusiastically huzzahing "Kill! Kill! Kill for Peace!"

Such was the looneybin to the overdrugged but still obsessively functioning mind of Archibald Ogilvie. To Llona, however, it appeared somewhat different. She saw no Reds under beds, no Viet Cong springing from the shadows, no treacherous, white-coated houseboys lobbing grenades, no peasants poisoning the wells, no snipers leaning out of the trees to threaten Democracy, Motherhood, and the American way. What she did see was Happy Acres, five thousand miles behind the front lines, peaceful, tranquil, green in the starlight, gracious brick beyond the green, security behind high hedges unobtrusively backed by a barbed-wire fence.

Sammy Spayed had picked out the hole in the fence by the light of the stars and led Llona through it. Keeping to the shadows of the trees, he steered her toward the main building. There was a light on behind one of the windows on the lower floor. Sammy guided Llona toward it. When they were directly under it, Sammy tapped on the glass.

The moon rose over the sill. The moon was putty-white with craters for eyes and mouth and a crag for a nose. It was round and full and beaming. Now it beamed a greeting at Sammy Spayed.

"Give us a hand up, Hannah," Sammy requested.

The moon sprouted hamhock arms and reached over the windowsill to grasp Llona beneath the arms as Sammy gave her a lift up from behind. Llona scrambled into the room. Sammy pulled himself up behind her. Panting a little, he introduced Llona to Hannah Urbach.

Not only Hannah's moon-face, but her entire physique was round as a zero. At first glance she was like a living op-art happening, a happening devoted to representations of the circle in all one hundred and forty three dimensions. Even the neck attaching the globe of her head to the sphere of her body appeared circular. Circles of fat ringed the bodice of her low-cut dress and overlapped larger circles borne down by their own weight. Her waist was an overstuffed circle with two orb-like hips bulging out from it. Between the hips, the largest circle of all fought a rear-guard action against a besieging girdle. Beneath the hem of the dress, round knees with surrealist dimples hung over small, dainty feet shaped like perfectly curved discs of flesh. Her eyes were also round as she stared devouringly at Sammy and addressed him with a mouth shaped like an O.

"It's so good to see you, lover," she ohhed.

"Good to see you too, Hannah." Sammy blushed under her intimate gaze.

"How's the wife and kiddies?" Hannah asked brazenly.

"Don't ask." Sammy shuddered.

"That's what you get for marrying a skinny wench," Hannah told him. "Those underfed bitches are always sour. No offense, honey." She turned to Llona. "Present company beyond the pale, natch."

"I'm not offended," Llona assured her.

"You shouldn't be. You're not really skinny, anyway. The way I see it, another fifty pounds and you'd be a real beauty."

"Thanks."

"Men like that little extra softness," Hannah told her. "Isn't that true, Sammy-boy?" She nudged Sammy in his basketball belly, and the air escaped from him with an audible whoosh. "I feel that way about men, too." She turned back to Llona. "Show me a man with a solid tummy, and I'll show you a real man. Like Sammy here. I'll tell you the truth, honey, I never figured I'd be making it with a real live private eye. And he's the greatest! Oh! Look how red he's turning! Isn't that the cutest? He's embarrassed. Now how about that?"

"I'm not embarrassed for myself," Sammy tried to explain. "I'm only afraid you'll shock Mrs. Rutherford."

"I'm not shocked," Llona told him. "Only a little bit anxious to get on with our reason for being here."

"You'll have to be patient, honey." Hannah looked at her watch. "Doctor's making his rounds now. After that he'll leave for the night and we'll be able to look in on your-uhh-whatever he is to you. But he always stops back in the office before he leaves. We can't move until he comes and goes."

"Shouldn't we wait outside?" Llona asked worriedly.

"Too risky. There's bully-boys patrolling the grounds. Didn't you see them when you came?"

"No, she didn't," Sammy said proudly. "I've been timing those guards' movements the past two nights. I had it down to a split second. They didn't see us and we didn't see them."

"You're a real pro," Hannah said admiringly, the little pouches of fat under her eyes growing moist as she gazed lovingly at Sammy. "Anyway," she continued, getting back to business, "the best place for you to wait is in Doctor's supply closet over there." She pointed to a door in the opposite wall. "He never goes in there. If he wants anything, I get it for him."

"Then hadn't we better get in there?" Llona asked.

Hannah glanced at her watch again. "I guess so," she said. She led the way over to the door and held it open for them.

"It's awfully dark," Llona observed as she peered inside.

"There's a light, but the bulb's out. I've been meaning to replace it. But for now it's better this way. Just in case I have to go in for something, Doctor won't see you."

Llona stepped gingerly into the large closet, and Sammy Spayed followed her. When she turned around, automatically, to face the still open doorway, he followed suit. Hannah reached in to bestow an intimate caress.

"Whoo!-Whoo!-Whoo!-" Sammy reacted.

"What's the matter?" Llona had missed seeing Hannah's hand; it was beneath her range of vision.

"Sammy's over-sensitive." Hannah giggled.

"It's a little crowded in here with three," Sammy pointed out.

"Oh, all right." Hannah bestowed a farewell squeeze. "See you later." She stepped out of the closet and closed the door behind her.

Sammy and Llona were silent for a long time. Then, in the darkness, unexpectedly, Llona felt a hand pawing tentatively at her right breast. "Just what do you think you're doing?" she hissed indignantly.

"Oh! Sorry! Sorry!" Sammy's voice was embarrassed. "It's an itch. Uncontrollable, know what I mean?"

"Well, you'd just better control it! Just because you get a sudden desire doesn't mean you can take advantage of the situation!"

"Not that kind of an itch. I mean a back itch." Sammy-wriggled against her. "It's driving me crazy. It's right between my shoulder blades where I can't reach it."

"Oh. I see." Llona excused him. "But can't you stop wiggling?" she asked after a moment. "You're liable to knock something over."

"It's agony!" Sammy's back and shoulder blades continued to writhe.

"Maybe I can help." Llona put her hands on his back tentatively. "Where is it?"

"A little to the left. Now down. No-no. Too far. Up a little. That's it. That's the spot. Right there."

Llona scratched gently.

"Harder! Harder! Now down a little. That's it! Oh, yes! Ahh! Ah-ah-ah! Ye-e-e-e-e-sss! Ahhhhh!"

Suddenly the closet door opened. "What's going on in there?" Hannah demanded suspiciously.

"Nothing. Nothing at all," Llona explained. "Mr. Spayed has an itch, and I'm scratching it for him."

"You keep your hands off him!" Hannah snarled jealously. "Any itches he has can just wait for me to take care of them. Now just be quiet, you two. I think I hear Doctor coming." She closed the door.

Once again Llona and Sammy were shut up in pitch blackness. This time they waited without talking, without moving. A long time went by before the door opened again.

Hannah held a finger up to her lips as her bulk filled the doorway. She squeezed between Sammy and the side wall to get some materials from the shelves there. Llona had a partial view, over Hannah's shoulder, of a man in a doctor's white hospital jacket.

Balancing on one foot, Hannah leaned farther and farther over to one side in an effort to reach the items she sought. Sammy Spayed tried to turn to give her more room. As it worked out, the movement was unfortunate.

They became wedged together, rotund belly to rotund bfelly, and for the moment neither was able to move.

"Can't you find it, Hannah?" the doctor called.

"In a minute," she called back. "Move back!" she hissed to Sammy.

"I can't. Mrs. Rutherford's in the way."

"Tell her to move!"

"I can't get any farther back," Llona whispered. "I'm practically stuck between the back shelves now."

"We've got to do something," Hannah moaned. "He's liable to come to see what's taking me so long."

"What's taking you so long?" the doctor called.

"Nothing. Nothing. I'll be right there. See," she whispered urgently. "You've got to move!" She wriggled against Sammy and only succeeded in trapping herself more firmly. "Damn it!"

"What are you muttering to yourself about, Hannah?" the doctor wanted to know.

"It's nothing. Just trying to find the stuff in the dark. It's a pain in the neck."

"We should replace that light bulb," the doctor remembered. "Maybe I should do it for you right now."

"No. No," Hannah responded hastily. "Don't bother. I don't have the right size bulb anyway. I'll take care of it myself first thing tomorrow. Try raising one leg." She added the suggestion in a whisper to Sammy.

He tried it.

"Ouch!" Llona exclaimed.

"What happened, Hannah?" the doctor called.

"Nothing. Barked my shin. That's all." She cautioned Llona through clenched teeth. "Will you be quiet?" she snarled. "Do you want him to find you?"

"But Mr. Spayed's standing on my foot with all his weight!" Llona whispered back urgently.

"I can't help it," Sammy whined. "Now I can't put my other foot down to shift my weight." "Try leaning over me and bracing yourself on the shelf with one hand," Hannah suggested.

"All right."

"Agghhh!" Llona's foot was crushed by Sammy's shifting position.

"That's not the shelf, you lummox!" Hannah objected. "You're leaning on my collarbone."

"Sorry." He shifted his weight agaih.

"Oh! What a relief!" Llona's foot was out from under him at last.

"This is no time to get sexy," Hannah told him.

"Sorry. That's as far as I can reach."

"Any farther and my girdle will snap. Now cut it out, lover. I like it, but this isn't the time or the place."

"I can't get my hand out."

"Oh! Stop! You're tickling me! I can't stand it! Ha-ha-ha-HA-HA-HA-HO-HO-HO-HEE-HEE-HEE!" Hannah was seized by a spasm of laughter.

"What's so funny, Hannah?" the doctor called.

"HEH-HEH-HEH!" Hannah thought desperately and quickly. "I just thought of a joke someone told me today. Do you know how porcupines make love? Ha-ha-ha-ha!"

"No. How?"

"Very carefully. Hee-hee-hee-HO-HO!"

"That's very funny." The doctor laughed politely.

"Ha-ha-ha-hee-hee-ho-ho-HAW-HAW-HAW!"

"That funny it isn't," the doctor opined.

"Ha-ha-ha. Sorry. When I get on a laughing jag, I just can't stop. Heh-heh-heh." Hannah clawed frantically at Sammy's wrist. "Will you please stop it!" she pleaded.

"I'm trying. If I can just get my hand loose."

"Ow! Now you're on my other foot! Llona blurted out.

"Hannah? Are you quite well?" The doctor sounded concerned.

"I'm fine, Doctor. Just fine."

"Then why do you keep talking to yourself? And in different voices, too? I think tomorrow I'm going to have the staff give you a check-up. Stay in a place like this too long, and pretty soon you're unconsciously picking up the patients' behavior," he mused.

"I'm all right," Hannah assured him.

"I'd better help you," the doctor said. There was the sound of his footsteps approaching the closet.

Desperate, Hannah gave a mighty shove. Sammy and Llona went crashing loudly to the floor of the closet in a tangle of arms and legs. Hannah grabbed the vials she'd been seeking and dived out of the closet, slamming the door on the scene behind her. Her momentum practically knocked the approaching doctor over.

"Whoa!" He grabbed onto a couple of fat flesh bulges for support. "What happened, Hannah?"

"I knocked over one of the shelves," she told him breathlessly. "Don't worry about it. I'll straighten it out after you've gone."

"Oh." The doctor shrugged off her explanation and took the vials from her. "I wish I could just take off right now," he griped, looking at his watch. "It's that damned Ogilvie again. I've got to go all the way back up to 'Isolation' to give him a sedative. But if he doesn't get a shot, he'll be raising Cain all night."

"Couldn't Dr. Slocum give it to him? He's got the duty up there tonight."

"I suppose he could. But I'd have to bring him this stuff, anyway. So I might as well jab Ogilvie myself."

Hannah had a sudden inspiration. "I could bring it up to him for you," she suggested.

"That's an idea. Would you do that, Hannah? I'd really appreciate it. I'm holding up a bridge game at home right now."

"I'll be glad to do it. You just go on along, Doctor."

Hannah waited until she was sure he was gone before she chanced opening the door to the medical supply closet again. When she did, it took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the darkness within. Even when they had, she couldn't see Llona and Sammy. Another few seconds passed before she thought to peer downward into the blackness.

The first thing she saw was Sammy's bulging rear end. Then she managed to make out the vague outline of the rest of his body. She couldn't see Llona anywhere. Finally she surmised correctly that the girl must be underneath Sammy.

"What do you think you're doing?" she exploded indignantly. "The minute my back is turned and already another woman. You shamuses are all alike!" She booted Sammy none too gently.

"Oof! I couldn't help it!" he protested. "We didn't dare move. We didn't want to be heard."

"That's no excuse!" Hannah kicked him again. "If you aren't doing anything, why don't you get off that hussy now?"

"How can I when you keep kicking me?"

Hannah backed off and Sammy managed to pull himself to his feet. Llona didn't budge. She just lay there.

"Mrs. Rutherford?" Sammy got his breath and peered down at her anxiously. "Mrs. Rutherford, get up."

"You've worn her out." Hannah's voice was heavy with innuendo.

"Mrs. Rutherford?"

Finally Llona stirred. "Phew," she groaned. "I feel as if every bone in my body had been crushed."

"And don't pretend you didn't like it," Hannah wheezed accusingly. "You don't have to tell me how great Sammy is. The louse!"

"I was a perfect gentleman." Sammy defended himself.

"Ha!"

"He was." Llona struggled to get up. "A perfect gentleman. But very fat. Very fat indeed."

"I'm not that fat," Sammy objected.

"You don't look that fat," Llona granted. "But then I've never known anybody who felt as heavy as you felt."

"You don't appreciate obesity." Hannah reversed herself and sprang to Sammy's defense. "You've been brainwashed like everybody else. What's beautiful about bones sticking through thin skin, I ask you? Round, healthy flesh-that's what Sammy's got. And I think it's just great."

"Unless it happens to be on top of you pushing you through the floor," Llona retorted. "But let's forget it," she quickly added. "We're here for a reason."

"That's right," Sammy agreed. "What happens now, Hannah? How are you going to be able to get us in to see Ogilvie?"

"It should be even a little easier than I expected," Hannah told them. "Doctor wants me to bring a sedative up for Dr. Slocum, the physician who's on duty there tonight, to give to Ogilvie. So I can get up there legitimately. All you have to do is follow behind while I make sure the coast is clear."

"Then let's go," Sammy said.

He and Llona waited as Hannah stuck her head into the hall to make sure they wouldn't be spotted. Then, at her signal, they darted through a stairway entrance. Hannah went up the stairs ahead of them and then motioned to them to join her. It was on the second floor landing that they ran into their first snag. Just as the three of them paused there, the sound of footsteps coming rapidly down the stairs from above reached their ears.

"Quick!" Hannah pushed them through the door to the second floor hallway. They waited there, out of sight, listening to the encounter which ensued. "Hi, George."

Hannah greeted someone. "Where you going in such a hurry?"

"Oh, hi, Hannah. Just bringing the manic regressive his security blanket. You know the old codger won't go to sleep without it. He whines, and it bothers the other nuts." There was a long pause. "Something I can do for you, Hannah?" The voice was puzzled.

"No, George. Why do you ask?"

"You're blocking the doorway."

"Oh? Am I?" Hannah stalled. She didn't move.

"Yes, you are."

"Tell me, George," she made conversation desperately, "whatever decided you to become a male nurse in a nuthouse in the first place?"

"I was a dropout from this school run by the Sanitation Department. What I really wanted to be was a garbage man," George confided. "I guess this was the next best thing." Another pause. "Uhh, you're still blocking my way," he said mildly.

"I'm interested. Tell me more about how you happened to come to work here."

"She can't stall him forever," Sammy whispered urgently to Llona. "We'd better get out of here. If he comes through that door and sees us, the jig is up."

"But where can we go?"

"I don't know. But let's move fast." Sammy led the way down the corridor. Halfway to the end he paused and looked anxiously over his shoulder. "The door from the stairs is opening!" he exclaimed. "Quick! In here!" They'd just come abreast of a door, and now he pushed Llona through it, followed, and shut it silently behind them.

The room they found themselves in was pitch-black- but not for long. The lamp on the night table between the two beds was switched on and a very old man sat bolt upright in one of the beds and stared for a moment at the in-traders. When his eyes had adjusted to the lights his parchment-skinned face crumpled with disappointment and, without a word, he slid down in the bed and turned over on his side so that he was facing the wall. Llona looked at Sammy questioningly, but he could only spread his hands in a gesture that said he didn't understand the old man's reaction, either. Then a voice from the second bed made them turn their heads in that direction.

"Don't mind him. He's a pagan. He thought you were a witch doctor bringing his sacred vestment." The speaker was as old as the first man, but a very different type. Where the other appeared weary and disgruntled and had an air of impatiently waiting for life to be over, this one was leather-faced, outdoorsy looking, distinguished and well-groomed even in his hospital bed-gown. Despite his age, he had an aura of great vitality and his voice was the strong voice of one used to giving commands and being obeyed.

"Sorry to intrude on you-" Sammy searched his mind for some excuse that would make sense.

None was necessary. "I am always available to those who desire to make obeisance," the more communicative of the two old men announced in a way that was positive without being pompous. "The Lord never sleeps."

"He thinks he's God," the first oldster mumbled without turning around.

"I am God!" It was said without conceit.

"God is dead," the other replied in a bored tone that seemed to say this was an old argument and that the ground had been gone over many times. "Don't you read the papers? God is dead!"

"You are sadly misinformed, sirrah. God is not dead. I am God, and I should know. God is very much alive!"

"Actors!" The first old man spat the word at the wall. "Just no limit to an actor's conceit," he grumbled.

"I thought you looked familiar!" Llona snapped her fingers. "You're Jonathan Wisdom! I used to see all your pictures when I was a little girl."

"That is correct. During my time on Earth, I was known as the actor Jonathan Wisdom. That was before I re-ascended, of course."

"I was a real fan of yours," Llona confessed. "I never missed a movie you were in."

"Really?" Wisdom's chest and shoulders seemed to expand. "Did you see the last one?"

"In the, Beginning," Llona remembered. "Oh, yes. I saw it. It was wonderful."

"Grossed over ten million," Wisdom said modestly. "But more important, it marked my transcendence of earthly existence."

"He thinks because he played the Almighty in that biblical farce that he really became God," the other old man explained in a nasty tone of voice. "Actually, he decided to be God when the Republican party snubbed him."

"Philistines!" Wisdom snorted disdainfully.

"He started out wanting to be a Senator," his roommate cackled. "He had all the qualifications except one."

"Which one was that?" Llona wondered.

"He couldn't tap-dance."

"Insidious hoofers!" Wisdom frowned majestically. "They knew how to handle them back in vaudeville. Then they used them to open the show while the audience was finding their seats and getting settled. All they're good for. The United States Senate, indeed! Why, that toe-tapper doesn't even provide comic relief!"

"Sour grapes!" The other old man singsonged it like a child poking fun at another child. "Anyway,"- he continued to Llona and Sammy Spayed, "when they wouldn't let him be a Senator, he started chasing after the nomination for Governor. Only he wasn't enough of a Good Guy to nail it down."