Lights Out

“We met at Galleon Beach,” Eddie said.

There was a silence. Evelyn’s eyes moved, changing the angle of reflection of the moonlight. “I remember Galleon Beach,” she said.

“Then you remember me.”

She looked at him. “You’re the unfortunate bro.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because of what the pigs did to you.”

“What pigs?”

“The wild ones. They’ve got wild pigs down there. You know that, if you are who you say you are. I was married to one. Then I married a much wilder one.”

“Jack?”

“The aforementioned. He had designs on me. The same designs as Pig One, only bigger.”

“What designs?”

Evelyn sat up. “You’re a spy. Like Ms. de Cool.”

“I’m not. I just want some answers, that’s all.”

“Then you’ve got to ask questions, silly.” She lay back down. “Pharmaceuticals kicking in,” she said, and closed her eyes.

“Evelyn?”

“I hear you loud and clear. Over.”

“I’ve got a question.”

“Shoot. Over. And say over. Over.”

“Why did Jack get kicked out of USC?”

She opened her eyes. “Raleigh should have been kicked out too.”

“What did they do?”

“Does it matter now? Except that it’s how he got his foot in the door. In retrospect, if you take my meaning. He was clever. He knew how to sacrifice the pawn to topple the king.”

“What door are you talking about?”

“The same door Brad stuck his stinky foot in-the door to my father’s influence. Did you know him? — Daddy, I’m talking about, not Stinky.”

“No. What kind of influence did he have?”

“Contacts. From his practice, from Yale, from Groton. How do you think the aforementioned got started in the fleecing business?”

“Tell me.”

She started talking faster. “And it wasn’t enough. He wanted money too. Well, the joke is, Daddy didn’t have a lot of money, not the kind of money the big dreamers call a lot. Brad got himself punched by that punch line too. But it served him right for all his unfaithfulness.” She began to laugh, harsh and unpleasant. “I owe you thanks.”

“For what?”

“For fucking his little fuckee. Pardon my French.” She stared at Eddie. “But they made you pay. I forgot. So what good are thanks?”

“What do you mean-they made me pay?”

“Click,” said Evelyn. “Channel change. I’m tired of all your questions. Here’s one for you-why can’t men be faithful? Answer me that.”

“Were you having an affair with Jack at Galleon Beach?”

Evelyn’s voice rose. “What a nasty suggestion. I couldn’t help myself. Now go away.”

“Not till you tell me who made me pay.”

She thought. He could feel her thinking, feel her giving up. “The details are sketchy, like all details. Why not ask the cook? Or should I say aks?”

“The cook in this place?”

“What would he know? I’m talking about JFK.”

“That’s a good idea. Where is he?”

“Don’t take that patronizing tone.”

“Where is he?”

“Around. He showed up for money, like a lot of jetsam in the aforementioned’s glory days.”

“Around where?”

“Try the hospices.”

“What hospices?”

“In the city. Or ask the aforementioned.” She laughed the harsh laugh again. “On second thought, don’t do that.”

“Why not?”

Footsteps sounded outside the door. Eddie froze. Evelyn smiled at him, moonlight gleaming on her teeth. “You’re gonna get it,” she said.

Eddie put his finger to his lips. She grew solemn, then quickly pressed something into his hand. Eddie dropped down on the floor, rolled against the wall.

The footsteps came closer. The nurse said: “Can’t sleep, dear?”

“Yes, I can. I’m very good at it.”

“Then why don’t you, instead of talking to yourself?”

“I’m not talking to myself.”

“I could hear you all the way down the hall.”

“That doesn’t prove your insinuation in all its particulars.”

“And how do you expect to sleep with your curtains open?”

“I like the moonlight in Vermont, or anywhere in the lower forty-eight, for that matter.”

Footsteps. The snick of the curtain string being sharply tugged. Then darkness.

Footsteps, back to the bed. “I’m going to give you just a little something to help you sleep.”

“I don’t want a little something. I want to get intimate with manny-man.”

“A little something will help.”

“Don’t talk to me like I’m Winnie-the-Pooh.”

A rustling of sheets. “This won’t hurt,” said the nurse.

Pause. “It did.”

“Sweet dreams.”

Footsteps retreated. The door closed. Footsteps faded away.

Eddie rose, sat on the bed, felt across the covers, found Evelyn’s hand, took it. She groaned.

“Evelyn?”

“Get me out of here.”

Eddie didn’t know what to say. He’d made the same plea to Jack, long ago.

“Get me out,” she said again. There was a long pause before she added, “of here.” The words came slow and sleepy.

She squeezed his hand, much harder than he would have thought she could. “I’ve done that puzzle …” Another long pause. Her hand relaxed, fell away. When she spoke again her voice was weaker. “A thousand times. Can you grasp that?”

“Yes.”

“So get me out.” Silence.

“Evelyn?”

“So get me out.”

“I’ll try, but first I want to talk to you.”

No response.

“Evelyn?”

She was asleep.