Part 4
Teddy lingered for a moment at the door, reflectively experimenting with the door
handle, turning it slowly left and right. "After I go out this door, I may only exist in the
minds of all my acquaintances," he said. "I may be an orange peel."
"What, darling?" Mrs. McArdle asked from across the cabin, still lying on her right
side.
"Let's get on the ball, buddy. Let's get that Leica down here."
"Come give Mother a kiss. A nice, big one."
"Not right now," Teddy said absently. "I'm tired." He closed the door behind him.
The ship's daily newspaper lay just outside the doorsill. It was a single sheet of glossy
paper, with printing on just one side. Teddy picked it up and began to read it as he
started slowly aft down the long passageway. From the opposite end, a huge, blond
woman in a starched white uniform was coming toward him, carrying a vase of longstemmed,
red roses. As she passed Teddy, she put out her left hand and grazed the top
of his head with it, saying, "Somebody needs a haircut!" Teddy passively looked up from
his newspaper, but the woman had passed, and he didn't look back. He went on
reading. At the end of the passageway, before an enormous mural of Saint George and
the Dragon over the staircase landing, he folded the ship's newspaper into quarters and
put it into his left hip pocket. He then climbed the broad, shallow, carpeted steps up to
Main Deck, one flight up. He took two steps at a time, but slowly, holding on to the
banister, putting his whole body into it, as if the act of climbing a flight of stairs was for
him, as it is for many children, a moderately pleasurable end in itself. At the Main Deck
landing, he went directly over to the Purser's desk, where a good-looking girl in naval
uniform was presiding at the moment. She was stapling some mimeographed sheets of
paper together.
"Can you tell me what time that game starts today, please?" Teddy asked her.
"I beg your pardon?"
"Can you tell me what time that game starts today?" The girl gave him a lipsticky
smile. "What game, honey?" she asked.
"You know. That word game they had yesterday and the day before, where you're
supposed to supply the missing words. It's mostly that you have to put everything in
context."
The girl held off fitting three sheets of paper between the planes of her stapler. "Oh,"
she said. "Not till late afternoon, I believe. I believe it's around four o'clock. Isn't that a
little over your head, dear?"
"No, it isn't ... Thank you," Teddy said, and started to leave.
"Wait a minute, honey! What's your name?"
"Theodore McArdle," Teddy said. "What's yours?"
"My name?" said the girl, smiling. "My name's Ensign Mathewson."
Teddy watched her press down on her stapler. "I knew you were an ensign," he said.
"I'm not sure, but I believe when somebody asks your name you're supposed to say your
whole name. Jane Mathewson, or Phyllis Mathewson, or whatever the case may be."
"Oh, really?"
"As I say, I think so," Teddy said. "I'm not sure, though. It may be different if you're in
uniform. Anyway, thank you for the information. Goodbye!" He turned and took the
stairs up to the Promenade Deck, again two at a time, but this time as if in rather a
hurry.
He found Booper, after some extensive looking, high up on the Sports Deck. She was
in a sunny clearing--a glade, almost--between two deck-tennis courts that were not in
use. In a squatting position, with the sun at her back and a light breeze riffling her
silky, blond hair, she was busily piling twelve or fourteen shuffleboard discs into two
tangent stacks, one for the black discs, one for the red. A very small boy, in a cotton
sun suit, was standing close by, on her right, purely in an observer's capacity. "Look!"
Booper said commandingly to her brother as he approached. She sprawled forward and
surrounded the two stacks of shuffleboard discs with her arms to show off her
accomplishment, to isolate it from whatever else was aboard ship. "Myron," she said
hostilely, addressing her companion, "you're making it all shadowy, so my brother can't
Teddy lingered for a moment at the door, reflectively experimenting with the door
handle, turning it slowly left and right. "After I go out this door, I may only exist in the
minds of all my acquaintances," he said. "I may be an orange peel."
"What, darling?" Mrs. McArdle asked from across the cabin, still lying on her right
side.
"Let's get on the ball, buddy. Let's get that Leica down here."
"Come give Mother a kiss. A nice, big one."
"Not right now," Teddy said absently. "I'm tired." He closed the door behind him.
The ship's daily newspaper lay just outside the doorsill. It was a single sheet of glossy
paper, with printing on just one side. Teddy picked it up and began to read it as he
started slowly aft down the long passageway. From the opposite end, a huge, blond
woman in a starched white uniform was coming toward him, carrying a vase of longstemmed,
red roses. As she passed Teddy, she put out her left hand and grazed the top
of his head with it, saying, "Somebody needs a haircut!" Teddy passively looked up from
his newspaper, but the woman had passed, and he didn't look back. He went on
reading. At the end of the passageway, before an enormous mural of Saint George and
the Dragon over the staircase landing, he folded the ship's newspaper into quarters and
put it into his left hip pocket. He then climbed the broad, shallow, carpeted steps up to
Main Deck, one flight up. He took two steps at a time, but slowly, holding on to the
banister, putting his whole body into it, as if the act of climbing a flight of stairs was for
him, as it is for many children, a moderately pleasurable end in itself. At the Main Deck
landing, he went directly over to the Purser's desk, where a good-looking girl in naval
uniform was presiding at the moment. She was stapling some mimeographed sheets of
paper together.
"Can you tell me what time that game starts today, please?" Teddy asked her.
"I beg your pardon?"
"Can you tell me what time that game starts today?" The girl gave him a lipsticky
smile. "What game, honey?" she asked.
"You know. That word game they had yesterday and the day before, where you're
supposed to supply the missing words. It's mostly that you have to put everything in
context."
The girl held off fitting three sheets of paper between the planes of her stapler. "Oh,"
she said. "Not till late afternoon, I believe. I believe it's around four o'clock. Isn't that a
little over your head, dear?"
"No, it isn't ... Thank you," Teddy said, and started to leave.
"Wait a minute, honey! What's your name?"
"Theodore McArdle," Teddy said. "What's yours?"
"My name?" said the girl, smiling. "My name's Ensign Mathewson."
Teddy watched her press down on her stapler. "I knew you were an ensign," he said.
"I'm not sure, but I believe when somebody asks your name you're supposed to say your
whole name. Jane Mathewson, or Phyllis Mathewson, or whatever the case may be."
"Oh, really?"
"As I say, I think so," Teddy said. "I'm not sure, though. It may be different if you're in
uniform. Anyway, thank you for the information. Goodbye!" He turned and took the
stairs up to the Promenade Deck, again two at a time, but this time as if in rather a
hurry.
He found Booper, after some extensive looking, high up on the Sports Deck. She was
in a sunny clearing--a glade, almost--between two deck-tennis courts that were not in
use. In a squatting position, with the sun at her back and a light breeze riffling her
silky, blond hair, she was busily piling twelve or fourteen shuffleboard discs into two
tangent stacks, one for the black discs, one for the red. A very small boy, in a cotton
sun suit, was standing close by, on her right, purely in an observer's capacity. "Look!"
Booper said commandingly to her brother as he approached. She sprawled forward and
surrounded the two stacks of shuffleboard discs with her arms to show off her
accomplishment, to isolate it from whatever else was aboard ship. "Myron," she said
hostilely, addressing her companion, "you're making it all shadowy, so my brother can't
No comments:
Post a Comment