She was waiting for an anchovy reward. I went and got her one.
“How much you pay for this place, anyway?” Cassandra asked, checking out the walls and ceiling, which hadn’t been painted in twenty years.
“Three hundred a month.”
“You’re getting hosed. I’ve heard of downscale chic but this is over the top.” She hugged herself with her arms. “And did they ever hear of a little thing called heat? I can see my breath.”
“Have a seat, Cassandra.”
She looked around. “Where?”
I cleared the piles of newspapers and magazines from the loveseat. She sat. Lulu came over to sniff her legs and to scare her. Then she curled up in my easy chair, tail thumping happily. It isn’t often she gets to intimidate anyone.
Cassandra immediately went back into action: “So tell me what you’re not telling me, cookie.” Her patented phrase. She stole it from me, actually. Except for the “cookie” part.
I sat in my desk chair, an old captain’s chair that swiveled. “I have nothing to say, Cassandra.”
“Yeah, yeah, shewa. You wanna deal, we’ll deal. You are talking to Domino’s—I deliver … I want ya exclusive, okay? I’ll pay you twenty-five grand a week to appear on my show every night until the answer man is caught. All you gotta do is tell the audience in your own words what’s happening. Two minutes tops. If the trial gets huge, we can renegotiate, okay? Whaddaya say? You don’t know what to say, am I right? You’re dumbstruck. You cannot believe how phat this is gonna be, you and me together in fifty million homes every night. We will go through the fucking roof.”
“Tried it. Got one monstrous headache.”
“Hoagy, read my lips: I can turn you into the thinking man’s Kato Kaelin.”
Lulu let out a low growl.
Cassandra eyed her warily. “What, what did I say?”
“She’s just confused about the particulars. Do I or do I not have to bite the heads off live chickens?”
Cassandra heaved her chest at me. “Okay, you’re doing an elitist number on me. Cookie, honey, sweetie, it’s time to wake up and smell the coffee. For as long as there has been civilization, people have gone to the circus. Now, thanks to the miracle of modern technology, the circus comes to them.”
“On every channel, twenty-four hours a day.”
“No one makes them watch.”
“I don’t agree. I think there’s an evil spirit out there, the same one that makes them eat Egg McMuffins and shop at Wal-Mart.”
“As if. They watch because they want to watch. And who are we to say they shouldn’t? Besides which, and I don’t mean to be critical, but you make it sound like you haven’t been a major player yourself. You’re the champ. That’s why you’re my idol.”
“Still? I figured you would have moved on to Barbara Wawa by now.”
“Uh-uh. That’s not how it works. When somebody’s your idol they’re your idol for life, like pigeons mating. Except you know what your problem is, Hoagy? You can’t enjoy the one thing in life that you’re best at.”
“Oh, that. It’s a blood thing. Merely goes back six or seven generations.”
“They got a name for it?”
“In some circles it’s called being gentile.”
“Gawd, I have this dream that someday I’ll wake up and understand everything you say.”
“That’s amazing. I have that same dream, too.”
“What, that I’ll understand what you say?”
“No, that I will. Problem is, I keep waking up in the middle of it with leg cramps. Do you think I need more potassium in my diet?”
“You’ll get a huge book out of it,” she pointed out. “Enough to put over your new novel.”
“How did you know I have a new novel?”
“Like I don’t follow your every move? Like I don’t pitcha us two riding off into the sunset together someday? Tell me what you want and it’s yours. You want my help selling the novel? Because, cookie, you are sitting on top of a major buzz ploy here. Just say the woid and I can put you on the bestseller
“How much you pay for this place, anyway?” Cassandra asked, checking out the walls and ceiling, which hadn’t been painted in twenty years.
“Three hundred a month.”
“You’re getting hosed. I’ve heard of downscale chic but this is over the top.” She hugged herself with her arms. “And did they ever hear of a little thing called heat? I can see my breath.”
“Have a seat, Cassandra.”
She looked around. “Where?”
I cleared the piles of newspapers and magazines from the loveseat. She sat. Lulu came over to sniff her legs and to scare her. Then she curled up in my easy chair, tail thumping happily. It isn’t often she gets to intimidate anyone.
Cassandra immediately went back into action: “So tell me what you’re not telling me, cookie.” Her patented phrase. She stole it from me, actually. Except for the “cookie” part.
I sat in my desk chair, an old captain’s chair that swiveled. “I have nothing to say, Cassandra.”
“Yeah, yeah, shewa. You wanna deal, we’ll deal. You are talking to Domino’s—I deliver … I want ya exclusive, okay? I’ll pay you twenty-five grand a week to appear on my show every night until the answer man is caught. All you gotta do is tell the audience in your own words what’s happening. Two minutes tops. If the trial gets huge, we can renegotiate, okay? Whaddaya say? You don’t know what to say, am I right? You’re dumbstruck. You cannot believe how phat this is gonna be, you and me together in fifty million homes every night. We will go through the fucking roof.”
“Tried it. Got one monstrous headache.”
“Hoagy, read my lips: I can turn you into the thinking man’s Kato Kaelin.”
Lulu let out a low growl.
Cassandra eyed her warily. “What, what did I say?”
“She’s just confused about the particulars. Do I or do I not have to bite the heads off live chickens?”
Cassandra heaved her chest at me. “Okay, you’re doing an elitist number on me. Cookie, honey, sweetie, it’s time to wake up and smell the coffee. For as long as there has been civilization, people have gone to the circus. Now, thanks to the miracle of modern technology, the circus comes to them.”
“On every channel, twenty-four hours a day.”
“No one makes them watch.”
“I don’t agree. I think there’s an evil spirit out there, the same one that makes them eat Egg McMuffins and shop at Wal-Mart.”
“As if. They watch because they want to watch. And who are we to say they shouldn’t? Besides which, and I don’t mean to be critical, but you make it sound like you haven’t been a major player yourself. You’re the champ. That’s why you’re my idol.”
“Still? I figured you would have moved on to Barbara Wawa by now.”
“Uh-uh. That’s not how it works. When somebody’s your idol they’re your idol for life, like pigeons mating. Except you know what your problem is, Hoagy? You can’t enjoy the one thing in life that you’re best at.”
“Oh, that. It’s a blood thing. Merely goes back six or seven generations.”
“They got a name for it?”
“In some circles it’s called being gentile.”
“Gawd, I have this dream that someday I’ll wake up and understand everything you say.”
“That’s amazing. I have that same dream, too.”
“What, that I’ll understand what you say?”
“No, that I will. Problem is, I keep waking up in the middle of it with leg cramps. Do you think I need more potassium in my diet?”
“You’ll get a huge book out of it,” she pointed out. “Enough to put over your new novel.”
“How did you know I have a new novel?”
“Like I don’t follow your every move? Like I don’t pitcha us two riding off into the sunset together someday? Tell me what you want and it’s yours. You want my help selling the novel? Because, cookie, you are sitting on top of a major buzz ploy here. Just say the woid and I can put you on the bestseller
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