Sweet Thursday

17 Suzy Binds the Cheese[76]

Suzy was light on her feet. She was up the stairs and knocking on the door of Western Biological before the snakes rattled. Doc called, “Come in,” without looking up from his microscope.

Suzy stood in the doorway. She held a gigantic flop cake on one hand and carried a paper bag of canned beer in the other. “How do you do?” she said formally.

Doc looked up. “Oh, hello. For God’s sake, what’s that?”

“A cake. Joe Elegant made it.”

“Why?” Doc asked.

“I think Fauna told him to.”

“Well, I hope you like cake,” said Doc.

Suzy laughed. “I don’t think this is a eating cake. This is a looking cake. Fauna sent you some beer.”

“That’s more like it,” said Doc. “What’s Fauna want?”

“Nothing.”

“That’s funny.”

“Where shall I put the cake?” said Suzy.

Now Doc looked at Suzy and Suzy looked at Doc and they both had the same thought and they burst into laughter. Tears streamed from Suzy’s eyes. “Oh Lord!” said Suzy. “Oh Lord!” She laughed with her mouth wide and her eyes pinched shut. Doc slapped his leg and threw back his head and roared. And the laughter was so pleasant they tried to keep it going after its momentum was spent.

“Oh Lord,” said Suzy, “I got to wipe my eyes.” She put the cake down on top of the rattlesnake cage, and hysterical rattling filled the room. Suzy jumped back. “What’s that?”

“Rattlesnakes.”

“What you got them for?”

“I take their venom and sell it.”

“I’d hate to live with a bunch of dirty snakes.”

“They’re not dirty. They even change their skins. That’s more than people do.”

“I hate them,” said Suzy, and she shuddered.

“You wouldn’t, once you knew them.”

“Well I ain’t likely to get to know them,” said Suzy. “They’re dirty.”

Doc leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs. He said, “You know, this interests me. Snakes are cleaner than most animals. Wonder why you call them dirty?”

Suzy looked at him levelly. “You want to know why?”

“Sure I do.”

“Because you run Fauna down.”

“Wait a minute,” said Doc. “What’s that got—I did not!”

“You said Fauna’s trying to get something out of you. She just done it to be nice.”

Doc nodded his head slowly. “I see. So you got even by calling snakes dirty.”

“You got it, mister. Nobody don’t run Fauna down when I’m around.”

“It was just a joke,” said Doc.

“Didn’t sound like no joke to me.”

“Why, Fauna’s one of my best friends,” said Doc. “Let’s have a can of beer and make peace.”

“Okay,” said Suzy. “You make the first move.”

Doc said, “Tell Joe Elegant it’s an incredible cake.”

“Got marshmallow frosting,” said Suzy.

“And tell Fauna the beer saved my life.”

Suzy’s face relaxed. “Okay,” she said. “I guess that’s okay. Where’s the opener?”

“Right in the sink back there.”

Suzy brought the two punched cans to Doc’s work table. “Say, what you doing?”

“Making slides. When I started I put starfish sperm and ova in each of these glasses. Then every half-hour I kill one glass of the developing embryos, and when I have the whole series, I mount them on slides like this, and one slide shows the whole development.”

Suzy bent over the dishes. “I don’t see nothing.”

“They’re too small. I can show you in the glass.”

Suzy backed up. “What do you do it for?”

“So students can see how starfish get to be.”

“Why do they want to know?”

“Well, I guess because that’s the way people get to be.”

“Then why don’t they study people?”

Doc laughed. “It’s a little difficult to kill unborn babies every half-hour. Here, take a look.” He pushed a glass dish under the microscope.

Suzy peered in the eyepieces. “God Almighty!” she said. “Did I look like that once?”

“Something like.”

“Sometimes I feel like that now. Say, Doc, you got a funny business—bugs and all like that.”

“There are funnier businesses,” he said sharply.

She stiffened. “Meaning my business? You don’t like my business, huh?”

“It doesn’t matter whether I like it or not. There it is. But it does seem to me a kind of sad substitute for love—a kind of lonesome substitute.”

Suzy put her hands on her hips. “And what’ve you got, mister? Bugs, snakes? Look at this dump! It stinks. Floor ain’t been clean in years. You ain’t got a decent suit of clothes. You probably can’t remember your last hot meal. You sit here breeding bugs—for Chrissake! What do you think that’s a substitute for?”

In the old days Doc would have been amused, but now his guard was down and he caught her anger like a disease. “I do what I want,” he said. “I live the way I want. I’m free—do you get that? I’m free and I do what I want.”

“You ain’t got nothing,” Suzy said. “Bugs and snakes and a dirty house. I bet some dame threw you over. That’s what you’re substituting for. Got a wife? No! Got a girl? No!”

Doc found himself shouting, “I don’t want a wife. I have all the women I want!”

“Woman and women is two different things,” said Suzy. “Guy knows all about women he don’t know nothing about a woman.”

Doc said, “This guy is happy that way.”

“Now you’re happy!” said Suzy. “You’re a pushover! If no dame’s got you it’s because no dame wants you. Who the hell would want to live with bugs and snakes in a joint like this?”

“Who’d want to go to bed with anybody that’s got three bucks?” said Doc cruelly.

Suzy said icily, “A smart guy. A real smart guy. He’s got what he wants. Seems to me I heard you’re writing a great big goddam highfalutin paper.”

“Who told you that?”

“Everybody knows about it. Everybody’s laughing at you behind your back—and you know why? Because everybody knows you’re kidding yourself. You ain’t never going to write that paper because you can’t write that paper. You’re just sitting here like a kid playing wish games.”

She saw her words go home as surely as though she had watched arrows drive into his chest, and misery and shame overwhelmed her. “I wish I didn’t say that,” she spoke softly. “I wish to God I never said that.”

“It might be true,” said Doc quietly. “Maybe you put your finger on the truth. Is everybody laughing at me? Is everybody laughing—?”

“My name’s Suzy,” she said.

“Are they laughing, Suzy?”

“They got no right to,” she said. “I was just fighting back—honest to God I was. I didn’t mean any of that stuff I said.”

“I love true things,”[77] said Doc. “Even when they hurt. Isn’t it better to know the truth about oneself?” And he asked it of himself. “Yes, I think it is. I think it is. You’re quite right, I’ve got nothing. That’s why I built up the whole story about my paper until I believed it myself—a little man pretending to be a big man, a fool trying to be wise.”

“Fauna will kill me,” Suzy moaned. “She’ll wring my neck. Say, Doc, you got no right to take mad talk from a two-bit hustler—you got no right.”

“What’s it matter where the truth comes from,” he said, “if it’s the truth?”

Suzy said, “Doc, I never felt so lousy in my life. Get mad at me, won’t you?”

“Why should I get mad? Maybe you’ve stopped a bunch of nonsense. Perhaps you’ve nipped a fool in the bud.”

“Get mad at me,” she begged. “Here! Take a punch at me.”

Doc chuckled. “I wish it could be that easy.”

Suzy said sadly, “Then I ain’t got any choice,” and she shrilled at him, “Why you goddam bum! You lousy stinking fool! Who the hell d’you think you are?”

There was a flutter of footsteps and the door burst open.

It was Becky. “Suzy! You’re late. The Rattlesnakes are here. Come on! Get into your tomato dress.”

“It’s called ‘Love Apples,’ ” said Suzy quietly. “So long, Doc,” and she followed Becky out.

Doc watched them go. He said aloud, “That’s probably the only completely honest human I have ever met.” His eyes wandered to the table and suddenly he bellowed, “Goddam it! She made me miss the time. The dirty bitch! I’ve got to do it all over.” And he dumped the contents of the glass dishes into his slop bucket.