Pineapple had never been to a hotel before, and he didn't know how to act.
That, and his shoeless-ness, and the fact that he was carrying his sign with parking written on it, was making him extremely self-conscious. But he was determined to visit Suki, to see how she was and to ask if there was any more that he could do for her. So he screwed up his courage and climbed the porch steps of the Mangrove Arms.
He hoped to see Aaron before he had to talk to anybody else, but, instead, there was an old man sitting at the desk. Piney considered fleeing, but fought the impulse. He hesitated just an instant then shuffled quickly toward the counter, trying to hide his crusty feet before the old man saw them. "Hi," he said. "My name's Pineapple."
Sam Katz looked up and smiled.
His own life had changed invisibly but dramatically over the past few days. The guest house finally had some customers; they were harboring a refugee; and he felt that Aaron needed him. This belief was bracing beyond words, more galvanizing than some exotic medication. So Sam had been begging his brain to concentrate, pleading with his circuitry to carry messages truly, so that he might be of help. He was determined to be alert and businesslike behind the desk. He said, "Ah, Mr. Pineapple, welcome. You have a reservation?"
This flustered Piney, he changed the angle of his parking sign. "First name," he mumbled. "First name's Pineapple."
Sam smiled benignly. "How interesting. Were all the children in your family named for fruits?"
"Didn't really have a family," Piney said.
"Ah," said Sam. He tried to give comfort. "Sometimes, ya know, it's really just as well. So. What can I do for you?"
Piney's feet were damp against the sisal rug. He leaned across the counter with an elbow very near the little silver bell. Softly he said, "I'd like to please see Suki for a minute if I could."
Sam froze. His heart bounced around inside his skinny chest. His eyeballs itched. Suki wasn't there. That was the first, main, most important thing he had to remember. No Suki. Never heard of her. Now here's this person asking for her. Either it was some kind of a crazy test or it was big-time trouble. He tugged a tuft of hair, fiddled with his hearing aid. "Suki?"
" Ya know," said Piney. "Aaron's friend."
Sam thought fast. "Aaron?"
"The owner. He brought her here. She stayed with us before. Me and Fred."
"Oh yeah? And where do you live?"
"In a hot dog."
"Hot dog?"
"In the mangroves. Old military property. By the airport."
Sam remembered, sort of, driving past the airport on the morning they picked Suki up. But he wasn't quite convinced. He narrowed his eyes, said, "Shkulski pudenska."
Piney said, "Wha'?"
"I called you a filthy name in Russian. You didn't flinch."
"Why would I?" Piney said.
Slowly, Sam got up from his chair. "Wait here a minute. But I have to tell you, Cantaloupe, you scared the shit outa me."
"Found the car?" said Piney. "I kept telling Fred we oughta find a better swamp."
"Better swamp," said Suki, "I would've drowned."
"God. I didn't think of that."
They were standing on the widow's walk outside of Suki's room. The fig tree threw a dappled shade, leaves scratched dryly at the railing when the breeze blew. Piney leaned far over, craned his neck toward Whitehead Street. "I change the place I sit a little ways," he said, "we could wave to each other."
"I'd like that," Suki said.
There was a pause. A plane went by. Piney said, "So I guess you're sort of stuck here, huh?"
"Looks that way."
"I'd do anything to help, ya know."
"I know you would. Thank you."
Piney looked away, grabbed a little dangling branch and let the leaves rub on his shoulder. "Fred says it's 'cause I got a crush on you, but it isn't. It's philosophy."
For that Suki had no answer. A breeze moved the shadow she was standing in and sunshine warmed her face.
Piney went on, "Fred'll help too. He says he won't but he will. That's just Fred."
Suki nodded and Piney turned around to face her. He met her eyes for just a second and then he dropped his head a little and looked beneath her chin. Thin strands of muscle were moving in her neck, and watching very closely he could see the pulse surging underneath her skin. "Healin' up nice," he said.
"Coming along," said Suki.
"Well, gotta go," said Piney, and he gathered up the parking sign that he'd leaned against the railing. "I'll wave to you."
"I'll wave back," Suki said.
"You need anything," he said, "I'm sitting there."