Player piano by Kurt von negut

Author:Kurt von negut [negut, Kurt von]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: SF
ISBN: 9780385333788
Published: 1999-08-15T07:00:00+00:00

18

WHEN WEDNESDAY CAME, Paul stopped by his farm early in the morning and gave Mr. Haycox his instructions. Mr. Haycox made it clear that he wasn’t a parlor maid.

Reluctantly, Paul gave Mr. Haycox to understand that he could do the job or clear out, and that the job had better be well done. It was that important to Paul that everything be perfect for the delicate transformation of Anita.

“You think you can just go around buying anybody to do anything you damn please,” said Mr. Haycox. “Well, you’re mistaken this time, Doctor. You can take your doctor’s degree, and—”

“I don’t want to fire you.”

“Then don’t!”

“For the last time, as a favor to me—”

“Why didn’t you say so in the first place?”

“Say what?”

“ ‘As a favor.’ ”

“All right; as a favor—”

“As a favor, just this once,” said Mr. Haycox. “I’m no parlor maid, but I try to be a good friend.”

“Thanks.”

“Nothing at all. Don’t mention it.”

During the day, Anita called Paul to ask what she was to wear.

“Old clothes.”

“A barn dance?”

“Not quite, but close. Dress as though it were.”

“Paul, with the Meadows so close and all, do you think we should be going out and tearing around?”

“The Meadows isn’t a funeral.”

“It could be, Paul.”

“Just for tonight, let’s forget the Meadows. Tonight it’s going to be just Paul and Anita, and to hell with everybody else.”

“That’s very easy to say, Paul. It’s a sweet idea and everything, but—”

“But what?” he asked irritably.

“Well, I don’t know; I don’t want to nag, but it does seem to me that you’re being awfully slap-happy about the Meadows, about the Blue Team.”

“What should I be doing?”

“Shouldn’t you be training or something? I mean, shouldn’t you be getting lots of sleep and eating the right foods and jogging around a little after work? And cutting down on cigarettes, maybe?”

“What?”

“You’ve got to be in shape if the Blue Team’s going to win.”

Paul laughed.

“Now listen, Paul, you needn’t laugh. Shepherd says he’s seen careers made and broken by how men made out as team captains at the Meadows. Shepherd’s given up smoking completely.”

“You can tell him I’ve taken up hashish to speed up my reaction time. His fast ball will look like a toy balloon blowing over home plate. We are going out tonight.”

“All right,” she said gloomily. “All right.”

“I love you, Anita.”

“I love you, Paul.”

And she was ready when he got home, not as Ilium’s Lady of the Manor but as a trim, kittenish girl in denim trousers rolled above her knees. She wore one of Paul’s shirts, with its tails knotted below her breasts, white sneakers, and a red bandana about her neck.

“Is this right?”

“Perfect.”

“Paul—I don’t understand what’s going on. I called up the Country Club, and they don’t know about any barn dance. And neither do the clubs in Albany, Troy, or Schenectady.” Anita, Paul knew, hated surprises, couldn’t bear not to be on top of every situation.

“This is a private one,” said Paul. “Just for the two of us. You’ll see when the time comes.”

“I want to know now.

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