Augusta Played by Kelly Cherry Read Free Book Online Page A

himself a believer, but he could understand their feelings. And Esther’s. What about Esther? She would be heartbroken already, her only son. And there was Rita, their daughter. Her husband would give her holy hell for this. Rita was married to an Orthodox Jew and lived in Far Rockaway, he was a good man, decent enough and God knows solid, like a Swiss bank he was solid, but hell, every time she took a piss she had to have a ritual bath. So it seemed.
    10
    L OOK, I’m really sorry,” Norman was saying. “I didn’t realize you were so—”
    Birdie smiled magnanimously. “It’s all right,” she said, graciously. “It was just fox.” Then she saw Sidney’s brow beetling. “I mean,” she said, “why it was special was only because Sidney gave—” But Sidney’s brow, instead of smoothing, was creasing still further. It was capable of great creasing because with his scalp muscles he could pull the flesh forward from his bald pate. “Sidney,” Birdie said, trailing off helplessly.
    â€œThis is my son the schmuck. Norman. He was just leaving.”
    â€œIt’s okay, I’m in no hurry. I should make amends.”
    Jocelyn was trying to squeeze past the trio. “Oh, I’m sorry,” Birdie said, turning around and giving her a smile like the one she had flashed for Norman. It was her stage smile. She used it when she didn’t know what the hell was expected of her, and at this particular juncture in history, so to speak, that was precisely the case. She could tell something had been going on here because she knew Sidney’s aura very well. It was usually a comfortable nondescript brown, dried tobacco-leaf brown, but right now she could see clear as daylight, assuming it was a clear day, about a thousand pulsating yellow dots coursing around the contours of his spirit, and that spelled trouble to anybody who knew, as she certainly did, how to read it.
    Norman was trying to brush the fox fur into shape, but singed hairs kept flaking off and drifting to the floor. “There must be something—” he said, holding the fur by its snout.
    â€œForget it,” Sid said to Norman. “You have to keep that appointment.”
    â€œWhat appointment?”
    â€œThat appointment. You know. You said you had an appointment to keep. Didn’t you?” Norman looked blankly at his father’s winkings and eyebrow-liftings. “Good-bye,” Sid said.
    â€œOh,” Norman said, “that appointment. It doesn’t matter. I can always make another appointment.”
    â€œThat could create an adverse impression.”
    â€œOn whom?”
    â€œOn the party with whom you have the appointment!”
    â€œOh,” Norman said. “The party. I expect the party will understand. These things happen.”
    â€œNot very often, they don’t,” Jocelyn muttered, darting the rest of the way out of the room.
    â€œSidney—” Birdie began again.
    â€œIn a minute.”
    â€œI think the lady has a question,” Norman said, grinning.
    â€œNo—” Birdie began yet again.
    â€œThe lady does not have a question,” Sid said.
    â€œI have an observation to make,” Birdie said.
    â€œOh God,” Sid groaned.
    â€œI don’t believe I’ve gotten your name,” Norman said.
    â€œWould you like my personal name or my professional name?”
    â€œHer name is Birdie Mickle!” Sid said.
    â€œMy name is Birdie Mickle,” Birdie said.
    â€œIs that your personal name or your professional name?”
    â€œPersonal, definitely. My professional name is—”
    But just then the telephone rang. Sid opened the door—they were still standing by the door, which Jocelyn had closed after her—and shouted: “No calls!”
    â€œIt’s your wife,” she said.
    â€œI’ll take it,” he said, slamming the door again and sighing deeply, as