Self-Defence

25

She slipped into inert silence as I flipped the calendar pages back to the present.

Before I brought her completely out, I gave her posthypnotic suggestions to feel refreshed and successful and to be able to remember anything she'd seen that night while remaining relaxed.

She came out smiling and yawning. "I'm not sure what happened, but I feel pretty good."

I had her stretch and walk around. Then I told her.

"Three men," she said.

"You described one as having a hairy lip."

She rubbed the rim of her water glass. "A mustache? I can't really remember that- can't remember anything- but that feels right. Hints of memories, distant but right. Am I making sense?"

"Perfect sense."

"Can I go back under and try some more?"

"I think we've done enough."

"What about tomorrow?"

"All right," I said. "But promise me not to try anything by yourself before then."

"I promise. Now can I see that picture of Karen?"

I went and got the clipping from the Shoreline Shopper.

The moment she looked at the photo her hands began to shake.

She took the paper from me, stared at it for a long time. As she began to read, her hands stilled. But the color had left her face and her freckles stood out like Braille dots.

Handing the clipping back to me, she nodded. Then she cried.

At four, I drove to the Sand Dollar. The film crew was there again and a blond beach goddess in a black thong bikini was posing on the sand with a sweating can of beer.

As I entered the restaurant, I spotted Doris Reingold at the bar. She got off her stool. "Hi, there." After seating me near the window, she said, "Back in a jiff."

I was the only customer in the place. The beach was unpopulated. A busboy brought me coffee and I watched the blonde smile on command, flipping her hair, turning herself slowly like a chicken on a spit.

"Good view?" said Doris, pad in hand.

"Hooray for Hollywood."

She laughed. "Good to see you back. Early dinner? We just got in some fresh local halibut."

"No, just a snack. What kind of pie do you have?"

"Lemme see." She ticked her pad with her pen. "Today we've got apple and chocolate cream and, I think, pecan."

"Apple with vanilla ice cream."

She brought me a double wedge under two dollops of ice cream.

"Feel free to sit down," I said.

She touched her gray hair. "Sure. Marvin's not in for a while, why not?"

After pouring coffee for herself, she slid into the booth, the way she had the first time. Looking out at the blonde, she said, "Girl like that, gonna get herself one of two things: rich or in trouble."

"Or both." I cut into the pie.

"True," she said. "One doesn't eliminate the other. You have kids?"

"No, I'm not married."

"That doesn't mean anything. You know the definition of a bachelor? No kids- to speak of."

We both chuckled.

I said, "You said you had two, right?"

"Two boys, both grown, both army master sergeants, both married with kids of their own. Their dad was an army man, too. I divorced him when they were little, but somehow it rubbed off."

"Must have been tough raising them by yourself."

"Wasn't a picnic." She freed her pack of cigarettes and lit up, then took in a mouthful of coffee. "Tell you what I do enjoy, being a grandmother. You buy them stuff, play with 'em, and then you go home."

"So I've heard."

"Yeah, it's great." She smoked and stirred some sugar into her coffee.

"I'd like to have kids of my own," I said.

"Why not, you're young."

"It's a little scary. All those things that can go wrong. I used to work in a hospital, saw plenty of misery."

"Yeah, there's plenty of that."

"I was over by your friends' surf shop the other day and saw their son. Really sad."

She appraised me, through the smoke. "What made you go there?"

"Needed some swim trunks. When I passed by I remembered your telling me about it. Nice place, but how'd they get a house on the beach with that?"

She shrugged and gave a sour look.

"Still," I said. "That kid. No money in the world can make up for that. What is it, cerebral palsy?"

"Birth accident," she said, but wariness had crept into her voice. "I think he twisted his neck coming out or something."

"How old is he?"

"Sixteen or so. Yeah, it's tough, but we've all got our crosses to bear, so why dwell on it?"

She kept smoking and pretending not to study me. I ate some more pie.

After dragging half her cigarette down, she put it in the ashtray and watched it smolder. "I do feel sorry for them. It's a good example of what you just said- money and trouble."

Looking at the film crew again, she said, "Why all the interest in Gwen and Tom, handsome?"

All friendliness gone from her voice.

"No particular interest. They just came up."

"That so?"

"Sure. Is something the matter?"

She stared at me. "You tell me."

I ate pie and smiled. "Everything's fine with me."

"You some kind of bill collector? Or a cop?"

"Neither."

"What are you then?"

"What's the matter, Doris?"

"That's not an answer."

"I'm a psychologist, just like I said. Are Gwen and Tom in some kind of trouble?"

She pocketed her smokes and her lighter and got up. Standing over me, one thigh pressing into the rim of the table, she smiled. To a casual observer she would have looked like a helpful waitress.

"You come on real friendly, and then you ease the conversation around to Tom and Gwen. That just seems a strange thing for a guy to talk to a gal about."

Turning her back on me, she walked back to the bar. The restaurant was still empty.

I ate a few more bites of pie and then I saw her leave the restaurant. Throwing bills down on the table, I went after her.

She was heading for a shopworn red Camaro parked near the movie crew trucks. Cables were strewn across the parking lot, and one caught her heel and she went down. One of the grips picked her up, and other film people gathered around her. The blond model stopped posing.

I was within twenty feet of her when she saw me. She pointed and said something that made the people look at me as if I was slime on bone china.

A human knot closed around her, protectively.

I turned around, walking, not running, but when I made it to the Seville I was breathless.

I got in the car. No one had followed me but everyone was still looking at me. They kept on looking as I peeled out.