The Solitary Twin by Harry Mathews

Author:Harry Mathews
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9780811227551
Publisher: New Directions
Published: 2018-03-27T00:00:00+00:00

7

Geoffrey’s question would go unanswered for the next two weeks. Captain Kipper kept his promise to alert Wicheria and did so promptly. She phoned Berenice and Andreas two days after Geoffrey had told the tale of Malachi. She suggested meeting them at the Hunting Horn — “the food’s not great but not bad and they have a pretty good combo.” Were they free next Saturday? “I’m working nights till then, Sunday I’m meeting friends up the coast. I really want to talk to you about the two boys. My guess is you may have the wrong take on them.” Andreas and Berenice agreed to Saturday at 9 p.m.

Andreas had an earlier date that same day: lunch with Geoffrey, who at the Malachi dinner had agreed to explain why he had given up the kingdom of poetry for life in an office. They met at a seafood restaurant reputed for its shellfish chowders and its deep-sea stews. Andreas was as curious as ever about Geoffrey’s transformation. At that moment, nothing could have been farther from Geoffrey’s mind. As he sat down he was almost giggling with excitement over some new event which, he insisted, he had to tell Andreas about. Andreas: “You as much as promised —” “And I’ll keep my promise. But first —” “At least explain one small thing.” “If I have to.” “What did you mean by ‘your chain-mail pajamas’?” “Oh, that! It was a silly kind of portmanteau metaphor, as if not telling my secret was like hiding inside a suit of armor, but it wasn’t solid armor just chain mail, and not even a suit, just pajamas. I was only poking fun at myself for being such a ninny, not telling friends like you, not even telling Margot. I thanked you for putting an end to such nonsense. Will that do?” “Sure. So what’s got you so agitated today?”

“Do you know Sean Davies?” “The alderman?” “The alderman. As you know, we have no mayor, not officially, and Sean comes closest to being the unofficial one. He’s given me lots of support as a saboteur of bureaucratic routine. He asked me to meet him yesterday morning at Willy Aherne’s office.

“We happened to arrive at the same time, and before we went in, he pointed out to me an unusual sight. In front of what looked like a private house what you call a doorman was standing, in full doorman regalia, as if he were lording it over the entrance to some grand Fifth Avenue hotel. But the house wasn’t even a boarding house, no more than a three-story slim-fronted place that I’d never even noticed. ‘Never seen that anywhere,’ was Sean’s comment.

“Inside Willy’s office we found more aldermen. Straight off I saw they were all part of our ‘don’t wait till it’s broke to fix it’ clan, as opposed to the partisans of ‘let sleeping dogs lie,’ our very wet (as you say) antagonists. We were meeting that morning to confirm our majority on the town council for creating an innovation unit in the town government.

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