stared at us with solemn eyes.
“Well, at least she bought the tooth powder,” I said when we were out in the street.
“Tactical error,” he admitted, taking out an immense spottedhandkerchief and mopping his face with it. “Ought to have seen she was house proud. Well, well, I’ll do better next time. Got your sample cuttings, did you? First-rate. Let’s be off to the next customer.”
Down the street we went, the mule sighing audibly.
Nobody answered our knock at the next few houses. Near one there came a little whine and a
ping
, and a puff of adobe and plaster flakes jumped off a nearby wall; so we kept on going, until we got to a board-and-batten shanty sitting by itself in a field. Smoke whirled from its tin chimney.
“Can this be a new customer?” Oscar stared at it keenly. “That place was abandoned, and somebody’s been and fixed it up. Well, well. Cameras and audio at the ready! Care to come in with me?”
“Why not?” I said, scanning the house. I could pick up only one occupant, a female. No, there was a cat, too.
So we got out, and Oscar rapped smartly at the door. There was a silence and a scurrying, then someone tugged the door open from the inside, scraping it across the warped sill.
“You will excuse please,” said the lady who had answered. “My door, it is wretchedly made. There are no good carpenters here, like in my country.”
We beheld a mortal woman in her mid-thirties, with a plain freckled face and intense blue eyes. She had a vaquero’s red bandanna bound tight on her head, like a Gypsy scarf, and the rest of her appearance produced that effect also: calico blouse and skirt of violently clashing colors, red morocco slippers with pointed-up toes, and brass hoop earrings so big, a mouse could have jumped through one. Around her neck were numerous strings of beads, some of crystal, some of cheap trade glass, some of bones and shells and little unidentifiable oddments. She wore a lot of rings, too, gimcrack stuff, the costume and curtain variety.
For once, Oscar was speechless; but not for long.
“And what country would that be, ma’am?” he asked, removing his derby.
“Grumania-Starstein,” she said. “I am princess there. You are addressing Her Highness Sophia Sylvia Rodiamantikoff. Filthy conspirators brought about the downfall of the royal house. But I fled to safety through snows aided by loyal servants, chased by wolves all the way. I have come to this country to await restoration of monarchy by my secret friends in the palace.”
Right. My guess, analyzing her accent, was that she’d been born in Pennsylvania (possibly Shamokin) and probably known some immigrant families. Oscar blinked, turned his derby around in his fingertips, and smiled.
“Why, isn’t that interesting. It didn’t leave you much time to pack a bag, did it? Is Your Highness provided with all the minor necessaries a lady requires for good health and hygiene?”
“I
had
such,” she said with a melancholy sigh, lifting the back of her hand to her forehead. “Had beautiful set of tortoiseshell combs, given to my great-great-grandmother as a present from Ivan the Terrible, who was her godfather, you know. Alas! They are lost, along with solid gold comb-and-brush set I was given by my uncle the archduke. Gone, gone with my jewels and my crown!”
“Golly, that’s really too bad,” Oscar said sympathetically. “Fortunately, I happen to have a complete assortment of the finest toiletries and toilette accessories a lady could require, ready for your inspection. I’d be honored if you’d care to purchase any, ma’am—Your Highness, I mean.”
She bunched the fingers of one hand together and set them in the middle of her forehead, frowning thoughtfully. “One second, if you please,” she said. “I must consult spirit guides. Chief Running Deer! King Elisheazar! What you say, boys?”
In the silence that followed, I transmitted to Oscar:
So, is she nuts or a con artist
?
Your
“Well, at least she bought the tooth powder,” I said when we were out in the street.
“Tactical error,” he admitted, taking out an immense spottedhandkerchief and mopping his face with it. “Ought to have seen she was house proud. Well, well, I’ll do better next time. Got your sample cuttings, did you? First-rate. Let’s be off to the next customer.”
Down the street we went, the mule sighing audibly.
Nobody answered our knock at the next few houses. Near one there came a little whine and a
ping
, and a puff of adobe and plaster flakes jumped off a nearby wall; so we kept on going, until we got to a board-and-batten shanty sitting by itself in a field. Smoke whirled from its tin chimney.
“Can this be a new customer?” Oscar stared at it keenly. “That place was abandoned, and somebody’s been and fixed it up. Well, well. Cameras and audio at the ready! Care to come in with me?”
“Why not?” I said, scanning the house. I could pick up only one occupant, a female. No, there was a cat, too.
So we got out, and Oscar rapped smartly at the door. There was a silence and a scurrying, then someone tugged the door open from the inside, scraping it across the warped sill.
“You will excuse please,” said the lady who had answered. “My door, it is wretchedly made. There are no good carpenters here, like in my country.”
We beheld a mortal woman in her mid-thirties, with a plain freckled face and intense blue eyes. She had a vaquero’s red bandanna bound tight on her head, like a Gypsy scarf, and the rest of her appearance produced that effect also: calico blouse and skirt of violently clashing colors, red morocco slippers with pointed-up toes, and brass hoop earrings so big, a mouse could have jumped through one. Around her neck were numerous strings of beads, some of crystal, some of cheap trade glass, some of bones and shells and little unidentifiable oddments. She wore a lot of rings, too, gimcrack stuff, the costume and curtain variety.
For once, Oscar was speechless; but not for long.
“And what country would that be, ma’am?” he asked, removing his derby.
“Grumania-Starstein,” she said. “I am princess there. You are addressing Her Highness Sophia Sylvia Rodiamantikoff. Filthy conspirators brought about the downfall of the royal house. But I fled to safety through snows aided by loyal servants, chased by wolves all the way. I have come to this country to await restoration of monarchy by my secret friends in the palace.”
Right. My guess, analyzing her accent, was that she’d been born in Pennsylvania (possibly Shamokin) and probably known some immigrant families. Oscar blinked, turned his derby around in his fingertips, and smiled.
“Why, isn’t that interesting. It didn’t leave you much time to pack a bag, did it? Is Your Highness provided with all the minor necessaries a lady requires for good health and hygiene?”
“I
had
such,” she said with a melancholy sigh, lifting the back of her hand to her forehead. “Had beautiful set of tortoiseshell combs, given to my great-great-grandmother as a present from Ivan the Terrible, who was her godfather, you know. Alas! They are lost, along with solid gold comb-and-brush set I was given by my uncle the archduke. Gone, gone with my jewels and my crown!”
“Golly, that’s really too bad,” Oscar said sympathetically. “Fortunately, I happen to have a complete assortment of the finest toiletries and toilette accessories a lady could require, ready for your inspection. I’d be honored if you’d care to purchase any, ma’am—Your Highness, I mean.”
She bunched the fingers of one hand together and set them in the middle of her forehead, frowning thoughtfully. “One second, if you please,” she said. “I must consult spirit guides. Chief Running Deer! King Elisheazar! What you say, boys?”
In the silence that followed, I transmitted to Oscar:
So, is she nuts or a con artist
?
Your
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