The Kings Of Cool

230

It’s a woman’s voice.

“Ben? Ophelia’s friend? Is that you?”

Ben panics momentarily because

(a) he doesn’t want to lose sight of Chad, and

(b) he can’t think of her actual name, only “Paqu.”

“Oh, hi. Mrs…”

He damn near says “Four.”

“It’s Bennett, now,” she says in a tone that manages to combine self-deprecating charm with a warning not to push the subject. (Indeed, she’s here cruising for his replacement. Four is about to become Four mer.)

“Mrs. Bennett.”

She’s statuesque, sexy, beautiful, with all the genuine human warmth of an ice sculpture.

(Except, Ben remembers, O swears that she will not melt. O has watched The Wizard of Oz, like, twelve thousand times to get tips.)

“What brings you here?” Paqu looks a little surprised, as if she either can’t understand why a friend of her daughter’s would be at the club, or forgot that they let Jews in now.

Ben catches sight of Chad’s back. “Oh, you know-Friday… the patio.”

Paqu glances at his left hand. “Yes, it can be quite the place to meet eligible young ladies.”

Subtext: you’d better not be doing my daughter.

“Is O with you?” Ben asks, aware that if she is, she’s in handcuffs and leg irons, because O would rather sip cat urine straight from the cat than iced tea with her mother on the patio.

Paqu lets the “O” reference slide. “No, I believe she’s out seeking employment.”

And I believe, Ben thinks, that bin Laden is hitting open-mike night at the West Akron Holiday Inn.

He watches Meldrun go up to someone-Ben can’t make out his face-along the railing bar.

“What do you do?” Paqu asks.

“Sorry?”

“What do you do, Ben?” Paqu asks. “For a living?”

“I’m an environmental consultant,” Ben says, still unable to get a good look at who Chad is talking to.

“What does that mean?”

It means I have to tell the IRS something, Ben thinks. “When a big building or a complex is going up, I advise the landscape architects what kinds of trees, plants, and grasses to put in.”

“That sounds fascinating,” Paqu says. “Very ‘green.’ Is that the word?”

“That’s one of them.”

“What’s another?” she asks.

That’s when Ben realizes she’s a little drunk.

“Bullshit,” Ben tells her. “It’s all bullshit, Mrs. B.”

She looks him straight in the eyes. “Ain’t that the goddamn truth, Ben.”

Yeah it is.

Because some people move out of the way and Ben sees who Meldrun is talking to.

Stan.