The Rake by William F. Buckley Read Free Book Online Page B

to know they knocked off an educated American.’”
    Both laughed. “Well, I’ve got an advantage over you, besides my extreme old age,” Eric said. “This is my hometown, and I can show you around a bit.”
    Rico became Reuben’s confidant. Having competed together for staff membership on the Dakota Student , each made his own mark on the paper. Reuben was impulsive, Rico deliberate. Although both aspired to be elected, eventually, editor in chief, Eric acknowledged to himself that Reuben’s talents as an entrepreneur exceeded his own—Eric Monsanto would never have come up with the Zap initiative. So he quietly applauded Reuben’s success, encouraged him in many of his ventures, and collaborated with him in some. These included the night at the duck blind in September, when Reuben had airily declined to take the advice of his senior counselor. This time it was Reuben who was short of prophylactics.
    Eric said he’d pick Reuben up at the Student office. At six, Reuben stepped into the familiar 1964 Chevrolet coupé, a high-school graduation present to Eric from his father.
    â€œWhere we going, Rico?”
    â€œI figured to get supper at the Hop See.”
    â€œAlways good. You going to eat out my ass over something?”
    â€œYes.”
    Reuben’s apprehension heightened when Eric ordered iced tea. All the more reason, Reuben calculated, to go in the other direction. He ordered a double daiquiri. To the familiar waiter he said, “Joe, you got some Myers rum?”
    The drinks came.
    â€œOkay,” Eric said. “You didn’t want the baby. But she said no when you suggested an abortion. You told me you talked with her about who would take care of the baby after it was born; you suggested she give it up for adoption. But she wouldn’t agree to that either. She didn’t want to stick around once the pregnancy showed, and on that point she took the initiative, went off to Paris. You talked about how the two of you would live—”
    â€œYou’re the only one who knows all this, Rico.”
    â€œYes. I’m not going to publish it in the Student . And I bet I’m also the only one who knows—besides you—that you haven’t written a letter to her in three weeks.”
    There was a drop in Reuben’s composure. “Yeah. She told you, I guess.”
    â€œYes. Look, if you’re thinking of leaving her, you can’t go about it this way, just not writing her . Have you decided to walk out on her?”
    Reuben lowered his head. He took a long swallow of his drink. Then looked up. “Yes. Yes, Rico. I don’t want to be married and have a child at age twenty-one.”
    Eric came close to giving his thoughts free rein. It flashed through his mind to get up from the table, get into his car, and drive off. He was deterred by the graphic mental picture of his sometime best friend, the young, blue-eyed Student Council chairman who still looked like a student cheerleader, left standing outside the rustic motel/bar/brothel without even transportation for the ten miles back to his dormitory. The son of a bitch, he thinks only of Reuben Castle, Rico thought. But finally he rejected the idea of leaving him stranded. He asked only, “Reuben. Are you absolutely decided on this?”
    â€œYes,” Reuben nodded. “And I guess I’d want you to know it wasn’t easy.”
    Eric could bring himself to say only this much: “Then you have to write and tell her. Tell her right away.”
    Reuben nodded. “Yes. And if you don’t want to see me again, I’ll understand.”
    â€œI’ll decide about that.” He rose to pay the bill. “Sometime.”

CHAPTER 9
    Paris, May 1970
    Professor Leborcier had gone to Lyon for a meeting of the French Academy of Philology and would be away until Friday. Henri was told firmly by Nadine that suppers would routinely be prepared for her, and