Now You See It... Part 5

Ca.s.sandra (now the real) picked up the poster and returned it to its original place. "No," she said, "Max wouldn't want it over there."

That Harry's feeling, at that moment, was no greater than disgruntiement tells you how essentially identical Ca.s.san- dra and the made-up Brian looked. No doubt a close ap- praisal would have revealed discrepancies but, from the distance Harry had been-the distance Brian had made sure to keep him at-the similarities far outweighed what- ever minor differences in appearance there might have been.

Further, Harry had no notion that Brian could imitate his sister. Accordingly, it would have taken a glaring inconsist- ency on Brian's part for Harry to even have conceived of it, much less noticed that inconsistency.

Even further. Harry had been so thoroughly ego-ag- grieved by Ca.s.sandra's snub of him that he'd been in no state of mind to consider physical replication.

For G.o.d's sake, me man was so fundamentally obtuse

Now You Sea It- 31

mat he never even noticed how Ca.s.sandra's footwear went, in one fell swoop, from high heels to slippers!

Ca.s.sandra obviously knew those things, because her tone of voice was totally unruffled as she moved to the drapes and opened them. "He really doesn't like the drapes shut either," she remarked, turning back to Harry with a confi- dent smile. Oh, density, thy name is Kendal!

"Finished with your little game now?" he inquired sar- castically.

"Sweetheart," said my faithful daughter-in-law.

Turning off the desk lamp, she moved to Harry, slid her arms across his shoulders and planted an intense and lin- gering kiss on his Ups. (Do you require any further evidence that my existence was, to her, no more substantial than the presence of an artichoke?)

Harry's instant physical response was thoroughly pre- dictable and Ca.s.sandra knew it, pressing loins and stomach to his calculable groin, his Achilles crotch. I had never known before that moment mat Ca.s.sandra had been inti- mate with Harry, but, I must say, the discovery came as no bombsh.e.l.l explosion in my mind.

Ca.s.sandra allowed the breathless grinding to go on for a while, then pulled free with a labored exhalation, feigned, I have no doubt. She drew back, grasping his hands in hers.

"How are you, darling?" she asked.

His response was to glance uncomfortably at me. "Are you sure-" he began.

"He's brain-dead, love," she a.s.sured him.

"But his eyes-"

"-perceive nothing; he's no more cognizant than a head of lettuce."

If you had only known, Ca.s.sandra.

"How are you, darling?" she repeated.

32 Richard Maltmon

"Provoked," he answered.

"Did I behave badly?" she asked.

"I'd say dementedly," he answered.

"I'm sorry, I just-" She broke off and I thought: You aren't really going to say it, are you? But she did! "-haven't been myself today," she finished.

She kissed Harry on the lips again, lightly this time to prevent further excess groin provoking. "I'm sorry, love,"

she said- "Ifs everything that's going on here. You under- stand, I know you do."

A grumbling "I suppose" from Harry, anxious to pre- serve his macho image even though he'd obviously suc- c.u.mbed to her already.

Another peck to his pouting lips, an imploring look. "I've been so upset," she said.

He patted her back, his ego restored. "All right, all right/'

he said. He looked around, shaking his head. "This whole room," he went on- "It's too d.a.m.n much. That casket, for G.o.d's sake. When did he put the figure in it?"

"He wants to know what he'll look like at his funeral,"

she answered.

"That's sick/' he muttered.

Her smile was cold. "Thafs Max," she amended.

He looked at her again. "You said he was walking?" he asked.

Ca.s.sandra hesitated, then realized mat Brian must have said it. "Yes, he is." She nodded.

She reacted as, with an antic.i.p.ating (ever sleazy) smile, he moved at her again. "He could be back any moment though," she told him quickly.

He frowned, then sighed, accepting. "All right," he said reluctantly.

She took his hands again. "Thank you for coming," she said.

Now You Soe It.. 33

"How could I resist?" he replied. "Your request as well as Max's?"

Ca.s.sandra stiffened noticeably. "He asked you to come as well?" she asked, clearly taken by surprise.

Displeased, uncomfortable surprise.

lou didn't know?" asked Harry.

"No/I--" She could not complete her remark. All she could do was repeat the word "No," her face a mask of dis- concertment

"Well, that's good news, isn't it?" he asked. "It means he's probably changed his mind."

"You really think so?" asked Ca.s.sandra. For a moment mere, she sounded almost optimistic; about what I had no idea-but then you already know the sum total of my knowledge of events transpiring: zero.

Harry gestured as if to comment. Why not?

"Babe, he could have said 'no' on the phone," he told her.

When she failed to respond, he added, "Why ask me all me way up here just to rum me down?"

She remained unconvinced; that was easy to see, even for a head of lettuce.