Fletch(35)
“I did?”
“You did. You certainly did. You walked right up to the pool with your hat on and kept right on walking. Splash! Any man who can do a thing like that can’t be all bad.”
“I don’t remember.”
“I wasn’t the only one putting them down that day, my boy. Here’s to your health. Oh, God, it’s hot. Why people live in this climate I’ll never know. We all rush to California because of the beautiful climate, and then spend the rest of our lives indoors hugging an air-conditioner. Come sit by the hibachi. We’re having a few people over later.”
Fletch sat in the shade of an umbrella and watched Burt fiddle with the hibachi between gulps of his drink.
“The trick to a good charcoaled steak is to start the fire plenty early. Two or three hours ahead of time. Our ancestors, you know, used to have the fire going all the time. Of course they weren’t paying what we are for charcoal. Then, when they wanted to use the fire, it would be right there, ready, and they could control it. You can’t control a new fire as well. Golly, I’m awful glad you stopped by, John. You should stay for supper.”
“No, thanks, I really can’t.”
“I mean, you should. Anybody who has lunch with John Collins needs a steak supper. And a battle ribbon.”
“My plane leaves in a couple of hours.”
“Then you should have another drink. I always believe in being at least as high as the plane. That way, if it falls down, you still have a chance.”
“How’s Alan?”
“Oh, he’s terrific. Beautiful. He looks like you. Not an inch of fat on his body. Great shape, great shape. Just watching him makes me tired.”
“I think you said at the wedding you and he were great friends at school.”
“Colgate, ta-ra! I’ve been living off him ever since.”
“What do you mean?”
“Almost ever since. I had a few lean years before he got married. I had to work for a living. Want another drink? I’ve got all his insurance accounts. His life insurance, house, cars, inland marine, the Collins Company. That’s why I never disagree with John Collins, despite the grilled cheese sandwiches. After all, I’ve got my future drinking to consider.”
“Joan said Alan’s life is insured for three million dollars.”
“You’d better believe it.”
“It’s true?”
“Absolutely true. That guy’s worth a lot more dead than alive. Except to me. I get the premiums commission. Every night I pray for him. If he dies, I die. I’d even have to go back to work. Jesus. Think of it. Some damn-ass mechanic forgets to tighten a screw on some damn-ass airplane in Idaho this weekend and my life is over. I hate airplanes. I won’t even look at any. Put Raquel Welch on one wing stark naked and Ursula Andress on the other wing and put the airplane right in front of me, and I wouldn’t even look in its direction. I’m like Al’s mother—he flies and I worry. Probably I’ll die of worrying and he’ll fly a loop-de-loop over my grave.”
“How did you know each other in school?”
“Oh, he was beautiful. We were roommates as freshmen. He had boxed Golden Gloves. He was very serious. Work, work, work all the time. You’d think he had a little clock wound up inside him, and if he didn’t keep time to it, he’d choke or something. I wanted to get into the fraternity and he didn’t. I mean, he didn’t care. He went home most weekends. To the ribald town, Nonheagan, Pennsylvania. Jesus, what a boring town. I went home with him one weekend. On Saturday night for excitement we went downtown and watched the bus stop. I said, ‘Jesus, Al, you’re always so serious. College has more to it than just work, work, work.’ I wanted to get him to apply to the fraternity with me. I thought I’d have a better chance. They turned me down and made an offer to him. He hadn’t even applied. The most crushing blow of my life. I thought I’d never get over it. I mean, how the hell can kids, seventeen, eighteen years old, make decisions like that about someone else after knowing him only a few months? I mean, turning me down? In a few months this bunch of jerks decided Al was all beautiful and good and I was a shit. And Al didn’t even spend the weekends on campus. I rushed the fraternity, and the fraternity rushed Al. Jesus, I wept. Al accepted, on condition they accept me too. His roommate. Jesus, I’ll never forget that. The sweetest thing anybody ever did for me. But how did he have the balls to do it? It meant so much, and he stood back cool as a cucumber at eighteen and bargained with this bunch of brass monkeys. I thought he’d never carry it off. He did. They accepted us both, they wanted him so bad. Then he never did a damn thing for the fraternity except honor it by living there. He still went home on the weekends. I stayed at the fraternity weekends. Jesus, we had some beautiful times. I’ll never forget that.”