Cruel Zinc Melodies

75

Singe opened the front door as I was about to let myself in. I told her, ‘‘Look what followed me home. You think I should keep her?’’

Tinnie shoved the back of her left hand under Singe’s nose like she expected the ratgirl to kiss it.

An air of abiding amusement suffused the house.

So did voices.

‘‘Do we have company?’’ Feeling stupid the instant I asked.

‘‘Yes. Mostly to do with business.’’ Getting in a dig, ‘‘You just missed Penny Dreadful.’’

No doubt because Old Bones told her I was coming. What had he had her doing now?

Tinnie observed, ‘‘You’ve really put the fear of Garrett into that little girl, Malsquando.’’

‘‘I can’t help entertaining a mild suspicion that Tate women are somewhere behind that.’’

Speaking of: A semihysterical peel of laughter came from the Dead Man’s room. That couldn’t be anybody but Kyra, Tinnie’s apprentice in the arts and sciences of heart-breaking. What was she doing here?

I asked, ‘‘What?’’

Singe told me, ‘‘Go on in. I’ll let Dean know you’re home.’’

The big, wicked grin Tinnie had worn while showing Singe the landscape of the back of her hand vanished. Dread replaced it. She was worried about her niece.

My Miss Tate was scared walleyed that the other Miss Tate might be just like her favorite auntie.

‘‘Ha-ha-ha,’’ I said, softly. ‘‘What goes around.’’ I stepped into the Dead Man’s room.

My arrival sparked a marked lack of hosannas.

I stopped so suddenly that my sweetie plowed into me from behind.

I was right. The airhead noises, still bubbling, came from Kyra Tate. Who had such a hold on Kip Prose that it looked like he’d never get away. Also on hand were Winger and the Remora. They seemed to be having a good time, too. There was a taint of beer in the air and an empty pitcher near every couple.

And Winger was letting her little man be himself.

Usually it’s like she has her hand up his behind, using him for a sock puppet. I mumbled, ‘‘Must be the wonderful compliance device at work.’’

Not so. These people are just happy. Good things have been happening while you were away.

‘‘Good to know not everything will head for hell in a handbasket if I’m not there to manage it.’’

Old Bones sent,You have not had a good past few days.

‘‘There’s the understatement of the decade, Chuckles. Take a peek in here and see how they went.’’

He helped himself to a big dollop of Brother Garrett’s days of misery, sorting bits for processing in various minds. The man is becoming melodramatic as he approaches his elder years. Garrett, these past few days have been interesting but do not qualify for a place in your worst one hundred.

Melodramatic? Me?

Meantime, Tinnie worked the crowd, making sure everybody got a good look at the backside of her left hand. I snapped, ‘‘What the hell are you doing, Red?’’

Dean forestalled her by bustling in with a huge tray way overloaded with finger food. Singe was right behind with a teapot and a pitcher of beer. My mouth watered. I forgot Tinnie’s strange behavior.

My right hand was headed for my mouth, loaded with something made of meat and cheese tangled up around a sliver of sour pickle. Miss Tate managed a left-handed interception. I growled, ‘‘Hey! I’m trying to eat here. I’m starving.’’

‘‘What is it that you don’t see?’’

‘‘Huh?’’

That aura of psychic—or psychotic—amusement spread through the house again. Sour old Dean managed a full-bodied chuckle.

‘‘My hand, Malsquando. Right there in your face. What is it that you don’t see?’’

I felt the abyss opening under my feet but I couldn’t help myself. I said, ‘‘I don’t see why you keep waving it in everybody’s face.’’

The girl has a little more tolerance for my density than I usually admit. She took a couple of deep breaths and counted to ten thousand before she told me, ‘‘That’s because there’s something missing, dear heart.’’

I grunted. That seemed safe enough.

‘‘There’s this man who’s going around telling people I’m his fiancйe. But here I am, totally naked of any of the paraphernalia. Not to mention, he never bothered to ask my opinion on the subject.’’

The abyss has no bottom. It goes right on down, all the way, right out of this world into others where men blissfully shove their feet down their throats. Would I run into some blind fool falling the other way?

I would’ve expected a little more moral support from my dependents. Theydo depend on me to keep a roof over their heads.

I began to shake.

The full flavor had begun to take hold.

‘‘Look out, there!’’ Jon Salvation said. ‘‘He’s going to have a seizure. Or maybe he’s going into cardiac arrest.’’

Winger said, ‘‘He’s gonna try to skate out on a bad health excuse.’’

I met Tinnie’s eyes. I opened my mouth. Nothing came out. I tried. Hard. Though I don’t know what I wanted to say.

Anything coherent would have been useful.

She was merciful. She pushed my hand on toward my mouth. Food entered the gaping maw. ‘‘Chew, Malsquando. Chew. We’ll talk when we don’t have an idiot’s gallery kibitzing.’’

It took only a little of Tinnie having her own neck stuck out for her to back off. Some. For a while.

A reckoning was coming.