Early Warning

When the argument started (after the veal, before the Sambuca), the girls were like trained debaters, and Richie and Michael kept exchanging looks. Ivy went first: “Whatever you say, just don’t start with me about Adam Smith. He did not trust merchants. He thought they would get together and shit on everyone else if they possibly could.”

Richie said, “I would rather talk about the hostages in Iran than this.” They ignored him.

“Adam Smith?” said Michael. “Was that the guy you slept with last summer?”

Richie kicked him under the table — rather hard, in fact. Michael said, “Ouch.”

The girls were used to their shenanigans.

Loretta said, “I don’t need a theorist. No one does. I just have to look around and see what a mess all of these agencies I pay for are making of the country. People want to do stuff, and they can’t, because there’s too much paperwork.”

“Like set fire to the Cuyahoga River.”

Point for Ivy, thought Richie.

“If people wanted it cleaned up, they would have cleaned it up,” said Loretta.

“They did want it cleaned up, and it has been cleaned up,” said Ivy, “by EPA regulations. Not by the invisible hand.”

At this point, Michael ran his fingertip lightly up the back of Loretta’s neck. She laughed, but grabbed his hand. She said, “You wanted it cleaned up. But maybe those people living there were willing to make the tradeoff between jobs and a little pollution. There’s no proof that pollution is bad. Maybe it’s just stuff that’s in the wrong place.”

Michael said, “When Loretta was little, her room was papered in DDT-impregnated wallpaper. Just for kids. Donald Duck pictures on it.”

Loretta spun around. She said, “What was wrong with that? It was a good idea. It killed the mosquitoes that landed on the wall.”

Meanwhile, Ivy was staring.

Loretta said, “If you ban DDT, and then millions die from malaria, you haven’t done anyone any good.”

“Let the market kill them,” said Ivy.

“At least it’s their choice.”

“How about full warnings on the roll of paper, saying what is known about DDT?”

“We know it will kill mosquitoes. We don’t know it will hurt kids. Anyway, I guess the market decided about DDT-impregnated wallpaper, and that was that. I haven’t seen it lately. Or lead-based paint, or X-ray machines in shoe stores. Things come and go. If you don’t let them come and go, then you get like Russia.”

Richie thought maybe she had Ivy there.

But then Ivy said, “Russia isn’t the only alternative. Banks in the U.S. used to print all the money, and now the government prints it, because a free market in dollar bills didn’t work and was chaos. There are things that the government should do, and things that companies should do. I don’t want Russia, but I don’t want the Mafia, either.” Michael was beginning to look bored, and Richie sympathized. Michael said, “I loved The Godfather Part II. Pow-pow! Let’s have the Sambuca. You do this thing — you put a coffee bean in it and set it on fire. Burns off all the alcohol. Pow! Pow! Oh, you got me.” Michael fell to the floor.

Loretta said, “Reagan is tough. The Iranians know it, and the hostages will be released.”

Ivy said, “We’ll see.”

Richie thought, “Uncle.”

Loretta said, preening just a bit, “Yes, we’ll see.”

On the way home, Richie and Ivy agreed, no more Michael and Loretta until at least the end of January.

1981

CHARLIE WAS READING a book. He was sitting up in his bed with his back against the headboard, knees drawn up, quilt to his waist. All he had on was a T-shirt from camp that was ripped at the collar, but even though it was zero degrees out and Mom had turned down the heat for the night, he was not cold. It was three-fifteen by the clock, and he was on page 477. There were about 150 pages left to go. Charlie had stayed up over the years to watch movies, drive around, TP Ricky Horan’s house, talk to Leslie Gage on the phone, and listen to rock and roll turned very low, but he had never stayed up to read a book. Even while he was following the story with joy and pleasure, he was also rather amazed at himself.