“You could have knocked me over with a feather, accepting my invitation for some giggle water, Flix! I only asked because I thought it would stir them up a little. I never dreamed you’d accept! Anyway, I was only fooling around. I certainly meant no harm.
Now that Avery’s gone, I guess my focus will be on getting a rise from Birmingham-Hill. That bastard thinks he is so much better than the rest of us.”
The two had entered the elevator that allowed George’s wheelchair access to the upper stories of the mansion’s male section.
“He is a bit of a stuffed shirt,” Flix said.
“I’ll say. And the sad part is his family’s fortune isn’t what it used to be, if you catch my drift.”
“Financial difficulties?”
“That’s an understatement. Hilly walks around like he has a gold scepter up his keister, but his daddy pretty much gambled the family’s fortune away. Hilly’s grandfather, Hilly the First, struck the mother lode, mining in South America, as well as owning several sugar plantations, which he ran with slave labor.
He was a ruthless old cad to those who worked for him. He returned to North America, just in time to cash in on the enormous rail boom of the 1840s. Hilly’s father inherited the cash, but not the work ethic or the gift for making money that his daddy always had.
Yep. Hilly the Second, loved the ladies, the liquor, and the dice. And we’re not talking penny ante stakes, my friend. I’ve heard stories of how Hilly the Second would spend days gambling hard, drinking harder, and losing his shirt in the bargain!
And now, all our own Hilly the Third is left with is a legacy of what once was and what was squandered!
Oh, to give the Devil his due, there is some money left. But nothing like what the family once had! Compared to what once was and what jingles in Hilly’s pocket, the man is a pauper.
And to sit beside him at a dinner table, you’d think he owned the world! Pompous ass, if you ask me. But, of course, no one ever does! Ha! Ha!”
“You seem to know a lot about what goes on around here, George.”
“I make it my business,” George said, opening a closet and pulling out a bottle. “Keeps me from going crazy!”
“I see. No. That’s plenty,” Flix said, as George offered to fill his glass to the rim. “I think toasting Miss Avery is a splendid idea, George. I really do. And rumor has it that you keep quite a stash of good booze. I think a stiff one would do wonders for my nerves, about now.”
“Antsy, huh? Well, I can’t say that I blame you. Not one bit. With all that has happened, I’m not ashamed to admit I have the jitters, too.”
“Here’s to Miss Avery. May her beautiful soul find eternal peace.”
George clinked his glass to Flix’s, adding nothing further to the toast.
They sipped their drinks.
“Do you mind?” Flix asked.
“Be my guest,” George said.
Flix took the only seat available in the room. It was at a desk. The chair was leather and quite comfortable. The desk was massive and ornate. It took up half the room.
The top of the desk was very ordered. Nothing was out of place. Telephone, pens and paper were neatly aligned and in reach. There was an old framed photograph of young George with a man who was his spitting image, his father, Flix surmised, a very expensive set of pens, a spent rifle shell engraved with the letters AAM, and a large calendar that served as an ink blotter in the center of the desk. The calendar was heavily decorated, a one-of-a-kind creation.
“I say, is this shell a souvenir?”
“Yes. Indeed, it is. Arnold Aaron Matthiason. Name of the man who saved my life, on more than one occasion, over there.”
“Great keepsake, I’d say. I am extremely jealous of you, George. Green with envy. And this calendar is fantastic. It is quite a nice work of art,” Flix remarked. “You realize that it is two months behind.”
“Of course. I keep it like that to drive the maids crazy! Works like a charm, too.”
Both men laughed.
“I can see where it would. And that is a nice collection of medals you have hanging on the wall. Yours?”
“Did you serve?” George asked Flix.
“No. Unfortunately, they wouldn’t have me. Bad ticker,” Flix lied.
“Oh. Rotten luck. Yes, they are all mine. I volunteered.”
“Quite commendable. I envy you,” Flix said. “They are all so pretty! What’s this one?”
“Oh, that’s the 1914 star. Drove ambulances, for awhile. Got into combat soon enough.”
“And another from 1914-15. Amazing! There are so many! I am impressed,” Flix said. “I am always looked upon as a shirker whenever anyone finds out I didn’t ship overseas. But my health!”
“Oh, it is understandable,” George said.
“Such a long, distinguished career! Your bravery during the war is exemplary! I cannot tell you how honored I am to be in your company,” Flix gushed.
“Thank you. Thank you. Well, let me tell you, it was hell over there. No one was prepared for a war fought in inches! And I was as naïve as the rest, I suppose. Thought the whole row would be over in a few months! Couldn’t have been more wrong.”
“Where did you serve, if you don’t mind my asking?”
“Oh, I really don’t like to talk about it. Too many horrendous memories!”
“I understand,” Flix said. “A toast to the war hero!”
“Oh, please.”
But George raised his glass once again, blushing slightly.
There was a telescope in the far corner of the room, its stand extended and the lens pointed downward.
“You’ve decorated your quarters nicely. I must commend you on this room’s homey atmosphere.”
“Oh, I just had them rearrange the stuff in here. Made more room for the wheels, you see.”
“Yes.”
It was the first time Flix had entered George’s room. His suite was spacious, and Flix took a quick mental inventory of its furnishings as he sipped his drink.
“Mind if I have a look?” Flix asked, moving to the telescope.
“Yes, as a matter of fact I do. I had that telescope imported from England. It’s top rate.”
“Oh, of course. I understand. You wouldn’t want my bumbling fingers toppling it over. It’s a Broadhurst scope, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it is, as a matter of fact. Finest they make. You are familiar with telescopes?”
“No. Not really. I just happen to have cataloged a lot of superficial information about many topics,” Flix said. “I am a voracious reader. It comes from not being a very social animal, I am afraid.”
“Umm. Well, I am afraid I don’t sleep much. So, like you, I have time on my hands. I enjoy looking at the stars. The night skies are really quite beautiful.”
“Yes. I imagine they are, but I am afraid that I only see them in my dreams.”
“Lucky you.”
There was a knock on the door, and the maid entered, using her key.
“What do you think you are doing,” George said harshly.
“Oh, sorry, sir. I thought everyone was still dining. It is the dinner hour. And your shoes were ready,” the poor maid said, shoving a pair of newly shined shoes in Flix’s direction.
“Not him, you imbecile! They belong to me!”
The poor maid was so flustered, she dropped a shoe in front of Flix.
“Dear lady,” Flix said, calmly. “It is perfectly alright. We decided to forego dinner for some liquid nourishment. After everything that has happened lately, there was a black pall over the dinner guests. It was all too depressing. So, we ran like rabbits to this lair to relax.
But you must forgive us for not following protocol. I am afraid we have disrupted the staff’s schedule. You must forgive us,” he said, bending over to pick up the dropped shoe.
“Thank you, sir,” she said, backing out the door.
“Well, you certainly showed her who’s boss!” George said. “That’s what’s wrong with this country, in my opinion. Nobody knows their place.”
“You prefer to keep them in their place,” Flix observed.
“Darn well right! Too much like my old man, I am in that respect.”
“Is that your father and you in the photo?”
“Yes. Our days of youth. Spent in innocence and ignorance of what lay ahead.”
“What did he do?”
“My father was a businessman. He had his hands in many ventures: rails, steel, arms, and manufacturing.”
“Must have made a killing in the war,” Flix said.
“I like to think our family did its part in the patriotic push to rid the world of evil.”
“Would you like me to put these away for you, George? I do not mind in the least.”
“No. I’ll do it,” he said, taking the shoe from Flix and rolling toward the closet.
Flix followed, looking over his shoulder.
George opened the door, placing the shoe back in the rack. When George wheeled around, he looked at Flix curiously.
“I have enjoyed our chat, George, but I must be getting back to my paper on the White-lined Sphinx Moth,” Flix said, finishing his drink. “I feel that the only way to calm my frayed nerves is to drown myself in work. I am ashamed to admit it, but with everything that has conspired in these past few days, I have neglected my work terribly. My little moths will think I have abandoned them! Thanks so much for your hospitality and for the drink. My nerves are settled enough that I feel I can get off ten pages, tonight.”
“Quite welcome. Er, and good luck with the bugs.”
“Good-night.”
“Good-night.”
As soon as he exited George’s room, Flix made his way downstairs to the small call room, a tiny phone booth with a telephone, that Dr. Quintland had made available for personal telephone calling to the guests at the sanitarium.