Cabana the Big by Ron Charach

Author:Ron Charach
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Tightrope Books, Inc.
Published: 2018-01-09T05:00:00+00:00

SURVIVORS ANNUITIES (h. galloway chief executor)

Halverson, Dr. William $50,000 per annum & lodging

Morganstern, Dr. Henry $50,000 per annum & lodging

(henceforth known as henry morgan)

Meyers, Arlene business privileges, (saloon, lodging),

(henceforth known as Carla)

Seeton, Rose business privileges

(henceforth known as ma rosemary)

Parkinson, Mr. (for trap removal)

first rights to recycled metal and

$800 per month

And there’s more and more names that in the quick flash of a minute are impossible to read. In fact, there were about fifty other names in with those that’d been scratched out.

But henry just gives her his big eyes, looks at her puffy red ones an’ says —Ma’am, Ah’m afraid Ah nevuh was too good at readin’.

—You sonofabitch! And I thought you might be different! Not too good at reading, doctor morganstern, you slimy old Jew.

She almost scores a rise with that one though henry cools down mighty quick.

—Phony, she presses. —Lookin’ after your own hide to the bitter end... Interesting, how the last thing to disappear is the old ethnic identity. Or sensitivity about it.

henry winces, unconsciously touchin’ his nose.

Which only makes Carla smile. And then for a second both look sad—morgan reddenin’.

—Look, she says gently, even darin’ to reach for the arm of his buckskin jacket. —Pardon this stinking slime, she says, wiping it off with a towel and feeling sick. —I don’t know how long we have to ourselves but I need some answers…

He takes her smooth hand off, places it gently back down on the bar, reaches for another couple towels. —Wipe yourself off. And remember: around here, curiosity kills.

—Come on, henry morgan—I’ll still call you by your cool-dude name—don’t you think I’ve put a few things together that I can’t just sit on and ignore? It’s dawned on me, for example, that I’m just about the only person in this town my age who’s half-ways normal, that my “uncle” is someone with incredible power and, while I’m on the subject of him—why is my name down on this list as Meyers? I mean, that’s a different last name from my mother’s—which is down here as Seeton, when really, she dumped the names of all her partners and went back to her unmarried name of…

He deflects her: —Do you know the kind of trouble this note that you ripped off from gallo—from your “uncle” could get you into?

But Carla has recovered from the big ned show. She re-buttons her blouse and does what comes natural: fixes to pour them both a drink.

—Why, don’t be so mo-rose, henry, dey ain’t no danguh to dis note. Aftuh all, none o’ you eight c’n even rea-ud. Or is it unca harold yo’ is worried about?

—Maybe it’s your “unca harold” you ought to worry about—his little goon-show’s gettin’ more precarious each day. Things are shapin’ up worse ’n in Westworld. I mean, this big ned caper—I do admire you, Ar—er, Carla, for being able to compose yourself so quickly after that. You are one well-put-together young woman.

She looks at him in astonishment.

He finds his eyes rovin’ and in embarrassment he pulls them back to his drink.

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