Are
you a believer in ghosts my friend?
There are other ghosts than the
Herman
Melville, Moby
Dick
The
cribbage game was scheduled for Friday night but Pinson couldn’t go. His family had called a meeting to discuss
the sale of the family house in
I
had completely forgotten about the game.
I tried to remember Helen’s face but I could only recall the jet-black
hair against olive skin and the magnificent line of her nose.
Then
I remembered the proud and menacing look in her eyes and the tension that is
the desperation of a cornered animal, an animal that doesn’t know if it will
hold its ground and fight or turn and flee. And I was afraid that it was her
passion that had cornered her and her love for me that had caused her
desperation.
Melissa
and Cindy were waiting up for us, barefoot and wearing pajamas. Eleven-year-old Melissa wore striped plaid pants
and shirt and Cindy, who looked like a fairy goddess next to Melissa, wore a
sheer nightgown with pink and white daisies splashed over it.
They
were instructed to kiss us good night and Cindy kissed both of us on the cheek,
and held her hand over her mouth afterwards to hide her giggling. Melissa refused to kiss us, even though
Adrienne glared at her menacingly.
It
was apparent from the look on Melissa’s face that she would extract payment
from Cindy later for the sudden look of pleasure that appeared on Cindy’s face
after kissing us. I said Melissa didn’t
have to kiss me and Billy nodded in agreement and they went off to bed.
The
apartment was clean and neat. A large
white couch faced an imitation
Helen
motioned us to the kitchen where the cribbage board was set up and as I walked
past her, I glanced at her down-turned olive colored face, the face that memory
had not been able to reconstruct.
We
sat down at the table and it was clear, immediately, that they were serious
about the game. I was surprised. I said, “My father played cribbage.”
Adrienne
looked at me with questioning eyes.
I
said, “I’ve played several times but I
always forget the rules.”
She
asked, “Didn’t
he teach you how to play?”
“He
died when I was three and a half years old.”
There
was an awkward silence.
I
said, “My
grandfather, his father, owned a gambling house in
They
were wearing worn jeans and plaid shirts and it occurred to me that they
thought we were hippies and they were trying to please us. Adrienne was even wearing cowboy boots.
I
found myself staring at Helen. She
pretended not to notice. I turned to
Adrienne and saw a woman whose heart was scorched earth and whose love had been
caste among swine. She had said that she wanted to be rich, above anything
else, but it seemed obvious that she had merely lost the courage to love.
Helen
asked, “What’s
that song Jack?”
“Huh?”
It
was coming from the stereo in the living room.
“What
song?”
“The
one you’re listening to.”
I
listened to the song for a few seconds.
“I don’t keep up with popular music much any more Helen.” I knew the music of the Rolling Stones, the
Beatles and Bob Dylan. That was about
it.
Adrienne
said, “It’s the
number one song.”
Billy
laughed. He said, “You’ve embarrassed him long
enough. Tell him what it is.”
Adrienne
said, “You tell
him Billy.”
Billy
turned red and laughed again. “She’s got
us Jack.”
Adrienne
muttered, “I
Can’t Get Next to You.”
Helen
said, “You’d
better tell him it’s by the Temptations, or he might get the wrong idea.”
The
game went on and to my amazement, I was far ahead of
everyone else.
Helen
remarked, “Not
bad for someone who can’t remember how to play.”
I
asked her, “How did you get interested
in cribbage?”
“Adrienne
liked the name.”
I
asked, “What do
you mean?”
“She
liked the way it sounds.”
Adrienne
said, “We
learned it on our own. We like it.”
Helen
said, “It grows on you.”
Cindy
came into the kitchen rubbing her eyes.
She looked at Helen and said, “Melissa’s being mean.”
Helen’s
scream startled me, “Get
to bed!” Cindy started to cry.
Helen
said in a rasping, menacing tone, “What did I tell you?”
Adrienne
got up. She walked quickly, past Cindy,
towards the bedroom, and muttered as she left the room, “That little...” Cindy’s face brightened.
I
asked Cindy, “What
happened?”
Cindy
looked at her mother, questioningly.
Helen looked at me. Cindy
answered, holding back the tears, “She says there’s a ghost in the
room.”
I
said, “Well, is
there?”
“No.”
I
laughed too raucously. I said, “Well, what’s the
problem then?”
A
loud shriek came from the other room and the slapping sound of a hand hitting
bare flesh. Cindy tried to hide a
gleeful smile.
Helen
said, “It looks
like you have a way with children.
Cindy’s fallen in love with you already.
I can tell.”
I
said, “She’s pretty. Prettier than you
are.”
Helen’s
face fell. I said, “But she’s too young to propose
marriage to. Maybe in
a couple of years.”
“Believe
me, she’s ready now.”
I
said, “She’s a
very nice little girl. You’re a very
lucky mother.”
Adrienne
returned to the kitchen. She said, “I wish I could say
the same for mine.”
I
said, “She
seems to be ashamed of her .. uh .. background.”
Adrienne
said, “She ought to be. Her father’s a real bastard. ....
I’m sorry Helen...”
“Don’t
worry. He’s a bastard, even if he is my
cousin. He’s a bastard. I’m ashamed of him.”
I
asked, “Is he
Greek?”
Helen
said, “Hundred
percent.”
I
turned to Adrienne. “You’re half Jewish
and half Sioux?”
“I
grew up on a reservation. He left. I never knew him.”
“How
do you know you’re half Jewish?”
“I
know.”
I
said, “So
Melissa’s half Greek, a quarter Jewish and a quarter Sioux.” And I gambled, “I can’t think of a racial
mixture to be more proud of.” An
embarrassing silence followed.
Billy
said, “You’ll
have to excuse him. He reads too many
books.” He laughed and raised his hands
in self-defense as if he had just jabbed me with the prongs of a fork and I was
going to get up and hit him.
Helen
said, “Anyone
who would be proud of my cousin... “
I
said, “Really. You have to realize. The Greeks started it all. And the Jews. God. The Jews. The Jews INVENTED God. I mean ... “
Helen
said to Adrienne, “Remember
that guy who loved the Greeks so much?
It didn’t work out. He lasted
about two months.”
Adrienne
said, “He
wasn’t such a bad guy. You should have
kept him.”
“Sure. We could just sit around the apartment all
day and read books.”
“He
was good with Cindy.”
“Oh Cindy. She loved
him. He read books to her too. Just show him a book and he went
bananas. He read everything. Newspapers, candy wrappers. Children’s books...”
I
said, “Melissa
feels bad about herself. That’s why
she’s mean to Cindy. But she should be
proud.”
Adrienne
said, “Proud of
what?”
I
said, “You shouldn’t talk like that.”
Adrienne
said, “You can
talk. You’re rich.”
“What?”
She
said, “Money is
the only thing to be proud of.” Her
voice was bitter.
I
said, “I’m not
rich. Anyway, money isn’t anything.”
Helen
said, “Listen
to him.”
Adrienne
said, “Now I
KNOW he’s crazy.”
It
hurt. Billy said, “Money can’t make you happy. You have to be happy inside. YOU can make you happy.”
Adrienne
grunted. Helen said, wistfully, “I wouldn’t
know. I haven’t ever had any. My ex husband had money but he was
stingy. So stingy. I can’t begin to tell you.”
Adrienne
said, “He gave
you this apartment.”
“He
only pays half the rent.”
“Has
he ever missed a payment?”
“He
loves his daughter, not me.”
“Then
he’s not stingy.”
I
asked, “What
does he do for a living?”
“He’s
a carpenter.”
I
said, “My stepfather was a General
Contractor.”
Adrienne
said, “See, I
told you.”
I
said, “He went
bankrupt. Billy’s rich, not me.” They turned to Billy. I said, “He’s going to be a big-time
lawyer.” Silence.
Partly
to get Billy off the hook, I said, “Pinson’s really the rich one. His father was the President of the
I
paused, then dropped the truth on them,
“His grandfather owned the entire city of
Adrienne
looked at me as if I’d slipped a cog.
I
continued, “His
grandfather had one of the original Spanish land grants. The Ygnacio
grant. All they own now is a gas
station in
Billy
said, “Deal.”
Rage
and scorn was in Helen’s face and she looked at Billy and said, “I don’t like
lawyers.”
He
was silent. I was surprised to see fear
in Adrienne’s eyes. He waited for his
card, not looking up.
Helen
dealt a card and our eyes met. Her
sudden passionate hatred for Kidd turned into a torrent of desire for me. Adrienne pretended not to notice.
Helen
looked over my shoulder, shocked by what she saw. Cindy was standing at the door again.
Adrienne
bolted out of her chair and her face was swollen with rage. She ran through the door with Cindy running
after her. Helen tried to stop Cindy but
they both disappeared through the door.
We
heard the high pitched sound of Melissa’s screams and the sound of a belt
snapping and cracking over the music from the stereo. Adrienne screamed, “This one is for your
god-damned father...” There was a loud
smack. “The two timing son-of-a-bitch.”
There
was a bang that sounded like Melissa falling to the floor. Melissa begged her mother to stop but the
belt slapped on, cracking in rhythm to the music.
We
sat at the table in silence, mechanically dealing cards and moving the
pieces. Finally, it stopped. Silent and grim, Adrienne returned to the
kitchen. Helen and I didn’t allow our
eyes meet again that night.