Part 5
see. Move your carcass." She shut her eyes and waited, with a cross-bearing grimace,
till Myron moved.
Teddy stood over the two stacks of discs and looked down appraisingly at them.
"That's very nice," he said. "Very symmetrical."
"This guy," Booper said, indicating Myron, "never even heard of backgammon. They
don't even have one."
Teddy glanced briefly, objectively, at Myron. "Listen," he said to Booper. "Where's the
camera? Daddy wants it right away."
"He doesn't even live in New York," Booper informed Teddy. "And his father's dead. He
was killed in Korea." She turned to Myron. "Wasn't he?" she demanded, but without
waiting for a response. "Now if his mother dies, he'll be an orphan. He didn't even know
that." She looked at Myron. "Did you?"
Myron, non-committal, folded his arms.
"You're the stupidest person I ever met," Booper said to him. "You're the stupidest
person in this ocean. Did you know that?"
"He is not," Teddy said. "You are not, Myron." He addressed his sister: "Give me your
attention a second. Where's the camera? I have to have it immediately. Where is it?"
"Over there," Booper said, indicating no direction at all. She drew her two stacks of
shuffleboard discs in closer to her. "All I need now is two giants," she said. "They could
play backgammon till they got all tired and then they could climb up on that
smokestack and throw these at everybody and kill them." She looked at Myron. "They
could kill your parents," she said to him knowledgeably. "And if that didn't kill them,
you know what you could do? You could put some poison on some marshmellows and
make them eat it."
The Leica was about ten feet away, next to the white railing that surrounded the
Sports Deck. It lay in the drain gully, on its side. Teddy went over and picked it up by
its strap and hung it around his neck. Then, immediately, he took it off. He took it over
to Booper. "Booper, do me a favor. You take it down, please," he said. "It's ten o'clock. I
have to write in my diary."
"I'm busy."
"Mother wants to see you right away, anyway," Teddy said.
"You're a liar."
"I'm not a liar. She does," Teddy said. "So please take this down with you when you go
. . . C'mon, Booper."
"What's she want to see me for?" Booper demanded. "I don't want to see her." She
suddenly struck Myron's hand, which was in the act of picking off the top shuffleboard
disc from the red stack. "Hands off," she said.
Teddy hung the strap attached to the Leica around her neck. "I'm serious, now. Take
this down to Daddy right away, and then I'll see you at the pool later on," he said. "I'll
meet you right at the pool at ten-thirty. Or right outside that place where you change
your clothes. Be on time, now. It's way down on E Deck, don't forget, so leave yourself
plenty of time." He turned, and left.
"I hate you! I hate everybody in this ocean!" Booper called after him.
Below the Sports Deck, on the broad, after end of the Sun Deck, uncompromisingly
alfresco, were some seventy-five or more deck chairs, set up and aligned seven or eight
rows deep, with aisles just wide enough for the deck steward to use without
unavoidably tripping over the sunning passengers' paraphernalia knitting bags, dustjacketed
novels, bottles of sun-tan lotion, cameras. The area was crowded when Teddy
arrived. He started at the rearmost row and moved methodically, from row to row,
stopping at each chair, whether or not it was occupied, to read the name placard on its
arm. Only one or two of the reclining passengers spoke to him--that is, made any of the
commonplace pleasantries adults are sometimes prone to make to a ten-year-old boy
who is single-mindedly looking for the chair that belongs to him. His youngness and
single-mindedness were obvious enough, but perhaps his general demeanor altogether
lacked, or had too little of, that sort of cute solemnity that many adults readily speak
up, or down, to. His clothes may have had something to do with it, too. The hole in the
see. Move your carcass." She shut her eyes and waited, with a cross-bearing grimace,
till Myron moved.
Teddy stood over the two stacks of discs and looked down appraisingly at them.
"That's very nice," he said. "Very symmetrical."
"This guy," Booper said, indicating Myron, "never even heard of backgammon. They
don't even have one."
Teddy glanced briefly, objectively, at Myron. "Listen," he said to Booper. "Where's the
camera? Daddy wants it right away."
"He doesn't even live in New York," Booper informed Teddy. "And his father's dead. He
was killed in Korea." She turned to Myron. "Wasn't he?" she demanded, but without
waiting for a response. "Now if his mother dies, he'll be an orphan. He didn't even know
that." She looked at Myron. "Did you?"
Myron, non-committal, folded his arms.
"You're the stupidest person I ever met," Booper said to him. "You're the stupidest
person in this ocean. Did you know that?"
"He is not," Teddy said. "You are not, Myron." He addressed his sister: "Give me your
attention a second. Where's the camera? I have to have it immediately. Where is it?"
"Over there," Booper said, indicating no direction at all. She drew her two stacks of
shuffleboard discs in closer to her. "All I need now is two giants," she said. "They could
play backgammon till they got all tired and then they could climb up on that
smokestack and throw these at everybody and kill them." She looked at Myron. "They
could kill your parents," she said to him knowledgeably. "And if that didn't kill them,
you know what you could do? You could put some poison on some marshmellows and
make them eat it."
The Leica was about ten feet away, next to the white railing that surrounded the
Sports Deck. It lay in the drain gully, on its side. Teddy went over and picked it up by
its strap and hung it around his neck. Then, immediately, he took it off. He took it over
to Booper. "Booper, do me a favor. You take it down, please," he said. "It's ten o'clock. I
have to write in my diary."
"I'm busy."
"Mother wants to see you right away, anyway," Teddy said.
"You're a liar."
"I'm not a liar. She does," Teddy said. "So please take this down with you when you go
. . . C'mon, Booper."
"What's she want to see me for?" Booper demanded. "I don't want to see her." She
suddenly struck Myron's hand, which was in the act of picking off the top shuffleboard
disc from the red stack. "Hands off," she said.
Teddy hung the strap attached to the Leica around her neck. "I'm serious, now. Take
this down to Daddy right away, and then I'll see you at the pool later on," he said. "I'll
meet you right at the pool at ten-thirty. Or right outside that place where you change
your clothes. Be on time, now. It's way down on E Deck, don't forget, so leave yourself
plenty of time." He turned, and left.
"I hate you! I hate everybody in this ocean!" Booper called after him.
Below the Sports Deck, on the broad, after end of the Sun Deck, uncompromisingly
alfresco, were some seventy-five or more deck chairs, set up and aligned seven or eight
rows deep, with aisles just wide enough for the deck steward to use without
unavoidably tripping over the sunning passengers' paraphernalia knitting bags, dustjacketed
novels, bottles of sun-tan lotion, cameras. The area was crowded when Teddy
arrived. He started at the rearmost row and moved methodically, from row to row,
stopping at each chair, whether or not it was occupied, to read the name placard on its
arm. Only one or two of the reclining passengers spoke to him--that is, made any of the
commonplace pleasantries adults are sometimes prone to make to a ten-year-old boy
who is single-mindedly looking for the chair that belongs to him. His youngness and
single-mindedness were obvious enough, but perhaps his general demeanor altogether
lacked, or had too little of, that sort of cute solemnity that many adults readily speak
up, or down, to. His clothes may have had something to do with it, too. The hole in the
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