Cat of the Century by Rita Mae Brown Read Free Book Online Page B

am always suspicious where large profits are in order. I mean, Chickpea, there’s not big money to be made from a tablet and a pen. Electrify it and … well.”
    “Profits, yes, but I don’t think the power companies are perverting messages. However, all these devices draw power and give off heat. And think about it: You can’t just throw out a computer. There are chips and things in there that apparently become dangerous when disintegrating, so they must be properly disposed of. If that is the case—and according to our refuse rules in Virginia, it is—then why aren’t theydangerous to use? Isn’t heat coming off the screen? Aren’t those little semiconductors and wires emitting fumes or something unhealthy?” Inez, trained in the scientific method, was highly suspicious.
    “Of course. Call attention to it with proof, and everyone and everything tied to computers will deny it. Remember when the tobacco industry fought the truth? How blindly stupid of them. Am I against smoking? No. But it damages the lungs. End of story. Am I against computers? No. But they damage the eyes and God knows what else.”
    “Truth is ever and always in short supply.” Inez smiled ruefully.
    Aunt Tally raised her voice. “You know what, I don’t give a damn. I care about my people. If other people want to be sheep, let them march off to be sheared or, worse, to the slaughterhouse. You can’t save people who won’t save themselves.”
    “I suppose the truth is, you don’t want them to take you down with them.” Inez drew a deep breath. “To change the subject, this alumnae committee is making an old woman older.”
    Slyly, Aunt Tally purred, “Is that possible?”
    Inez laughed. “You’re older than I.”
    Aunt Tally laughed, too. “Touché. What’s troubling you?”
    Inez scrunched down deeper in the chair. Pewter had artfully placed herself on the padded area so Inez stroked her, which pleased the little egotist.
    Aunt Tally raised her eyebrows.
    “Before I answer your question, let me ask you one. Do you feel old?”
    “Oh,” a pause followed, “when I get out of bed it takes me fifteen minutes to straighten up. And I never feel old when I take my medicine.” She held up her martini glass. “Truthfully, no. I look in the mirror. I know I’m old, but inside I don’t feel it.”
    “I didn’t. I do now.”
    “Why, you look the same to me. You have boundless energy. And you take no prisoners. You haven’t changed.”
    “I realize I don’t relish solving problems like I once did. I thank Mariah D’Angelo and Flo Langston for that.”
    “Really?” Aunt Tally’s eyebrows shot upward quickly.
    “Yes. There was a time when I would have felt such accomplishment in harnessing those two to pull together. Now I think I can do it but I’mtired, tired of people’s petty damned egos. If I didn’t love our alma mater so much, I’d have chucked the whole bag of beans.”
    Aunt Tally rubbed her tennis elbow, which ached from the increasing low pressure. “Can’t Liz resume being chairwoman?”
    “Hell, no. That’s why Jahnae asked me to again chair the committee. Liz bounced between Mariah and Flo like a shuttlecock.”
    “I thought our broker was Flo’s creature.” Then Aunt Tally corrected herself. “I’m talking about only a small portion of my discretionary funds when I call Liz my broker; you know that Scott and Stringfellow manages the bulk of my family funds.” She cited a prestigious Virginia firm whose performance record and care of clients spanned most of the twentieth century.
    “Yes and no. The board itself elected Liz their chair last year. She’s still young—well, young to us; she’s barely forty, if that.”
    “Darling, these days they get face-lifts, boob jobs, fanny-lifts, tummy tucks at thirty.”
    Inez wrinkled her nose. “All that violence done to young bodies. Well, back to your question, more or less. Liz pays great attention to Flo; after all, they are in the same business.