Part III Continued ....
The Conservatory lay at the end of a long dim hall. Gunter pushed open two heavy wooden doors like Moses parting the Red Sea. A blast of heat and light hit me like a sucker punch from a 300 pound gorilla. There were plants and vines everywhere. The place looked like it was designed by Better Homes and Jungle. Turns out that ‘conservatory’ is just a rich way of saying ‘greenhouse’ like “venereal disease” instead of the “clap.”
There was a shady spot to the
left clear of all the greenery. The
General sat there in a wheelchair like FDR minus the cigarette and jaunty
smile. He was bundled up like a squealing
newborn, just not looking that “new.” His eyes followed me into the room. He motioned with is right hand to a rattan
chair which Gunter was already pushing up behind me. I turned to Gunter briefly glancing at that
tube in his coat pocket with a look that said “I ain’t your date.” He
casually pushed the tube out of sight with a very slight smile. The General nodded to Gunter and then cleared
his voice.
Gunter started to turn to go,
but not before trying to take my hat.
I held on to it like a tom cat
on his way to the spay and neuter clinic.
The more I pulled the more he pulled.
It was like a tug of war.
The General called the
armistice. “That’s alright, Gunter. Mr. Merlot can take care of own his hat. Now please see to the refreshments.”
I ran my hand on the inside of
my hat and set it next to me in the big chair.
I settled into the cushions like they were a box of Campfire Marshmallows. I looked at the General and asked; “Is he always that efficient.”
The General smiled. “You’ll have to forgive Gunter. It the Hessian in him.”
I thought to myself: “I’m not sure what was in him, but I was
pretty sure they weren’t called Hessians.”
“I found him at the back lines on the staff of a German
Senior officer during the war.”
I blurted out “Bingo.”
“I beg your pardon.” The General asked.
“Well I was so impressed with his abilities to organize and attend
to so many different affairs at once that I offered him a position. He accepted and has been an invaluable
manservant ever since. I suppose the
Hessian in him is what makes him so efficient. After my wife, Reagan, left Gunter started handling my
business at home. Not that it’s very
hard any more. Still it’s good to have
Gunter around. No one gets to the bottom
of things like Gunter.”
I shook the pictures that were
starting to form out of my head took out a handkerchief and padded my brow and
the back of my neck. I could not help wondering
who in their right mind builds a glass oven in Los Angeles? The General noticed my mopping the sweat.
“Make yourself comfortable, Mr. Merlot. Well, as
comfortable as you can in this humidor. You
may loosen your tie and take off your jacket if you wish.”
I slipped off my jacket and
pulled at the knot that was garroting me.
“Thanks”
I took out a pack of
Chesterfields and offered one to the General who simply shook his head.
“Please enjoy yourself. Mr. Merlot.”
I pulled one out and lit up and
exhale. The General sniffed the air like
a hound dog trailing the scent. He closed his eyes for a moment like
remembering an old flame.
“That’s alright, General.
I was entertained.” I smiled then
noticed he pulled back into his chair at my comment.
He wringed his hands a little,
looked off to the side and then back again at me. “I see
you met, Wendy.”
I almost said “Most of L.A. has probably ‘met’ Wendy.” - almost.
There was an awkward silence that
rattled like a gutter ball in the tenth frame.
Thankfully just then Gunter re-entered the room like a pin reset. He wheeled in a cart loaded with various
bottles of booze, a bucket of ice and a bowl full of tiny umbrellas.
“What is your poison, Mr. Merlot?”
“Sounds just fine.”
“Do you wish ice or just as it is?”
I wiped some more sweat from my
brow. “Normally straight, but I think
I’ll have the ice today.”
“Oh, do it right, man.”
Gunter added more until it
almost came to the brim. He handed it to
me. I picked out the umbrella and
sipped. The General followed the glass
from my hand to my lips with the intensity of a peeping tom.
“My wife liked to warm hers in both her hands rolling it
back and forth.” His gaze went a little
distant.
I thought to myself. She wouldn’t be the first woman who liked to
hold her liquor like that.
Whatever day dream he was having
was a short one. He shook his head
slightly and grunted again.
“I suppose I should know something about you, sir, though
Bernie Buck had a lot of good things to say.”
“Bernie’s a good man.
He was good boss.”
“So good that you left?” he asked.
“My leaving had nothing to do with Bernie as a boss.” I replied.
“Mr. Merlot?”
“I’m not criticizing, Mr. Merlot. Men are frequently left parched after over-indulging
a taste for women, … or anchovy pizzas.
Was it worth it?”
I tried to laugh a little. “You’re safer with the pizza, General. Besides when’s the last time you got the cla
…. er venereal disease from an anchovy?”
The old man laughed a
little. “A point well made, Mr. Merlot.”
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