Hush Money by Peter Israel

Author:Peter Israel
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781453293553
Publisher: MysteriousPress.com/Open Road

11

For a bad minute I was reminded of the one time in my life I’d talked across the Pacific. You could hear the waves in her voice like it was going up and down with the sea, and I kept waiting for the operator to say, “Deposit ten million yen for the next three minutes please.” Finally I figured out that she was the one who was making the waves, not the connection. In fact the connection was good, good enough to make out music in the background, and if I hadn’t recognized her I’d have thought I’d freaked out altogether. Because it was a hymn of some kind, a hymn, and voices were singing it, and behind the voices was something that sounded like an organ.

But Sister Robin Fletcher was the one who was freaked out. Whatever she was on, it sent her up and down like a yo-yo. One minute she was flying and the next crying, then laughing her head off, then cooing at me in some weird imitation of a Marilyn Monroe, then climbing up one side of me and down the other because, she said, I was no better than the rest, then telling me I’d better come get her because she couldn’t stand it any more. In between she had some coherent moments, but then the train slipped off the tracks again and went careening across the alfalfa.

“Hey sweet baby,” she said for openers, “is that you, darlin’ Cage? You get the package?”

“Yeah, I got it. Did you deliver it?”

“Friend of mine,” she said. “Hey what’d you think of the poems?

“Twink twike tweek twuck,” she said, “huis throughout. And now you want the rest of it, honh? You’d like the letter too, wouldn’t you, you greedy little baby. Greedy little monster. You gre-heedy littu monster …”

“Well let me tell you something, Buster,” she said, and her voice jumped about an octave, “what makes you think you’re the only one? D’you think you’re the only one?”

“No,” I said, “I don’t think so.”

“He doesn’t think so,” she said. “He doesn’t think so. Well let me tell you something baby, there’s a line around the block about a mile long waitin’ to get it, did you know that? An’ y’know what they’re waitin’ for? They’re waitin’ for Mommy, that’s who.

“It’s a long mother,” she said, singsonging it. “Oh it’s lo-o-ong, like it’s real lo-o-o-o-ong …”

“So how’m I supposed to get you up close to the titties? They’re only two, Brother, two poor littu boobies, poor Mommy Robin’s babies, hey did I ever tell you what their names were? Tell you what I’ll do honey, jus’ for you,” and her voice went real low, “I’ll give you a little suckie right now, right now.

“Here,” she said. “Have a little. Here’s Karen.”

And she started to giggle.

I could hear the hymn behind her.

I tried to play it straight.

“Listen Robin,” I said. “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, but I’ve got it and I’ve read it. So what’s

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