Cruel Zinc Melodies

5

Max rose as I approached.

Max Weider is a round-faced man with rosy cheeks and a twinkle in his eye even when he’s down so deep he can’t figure out which way is up. He still has hair but his barber isn’t getting rich charging by the hour. The part down the middle is six inches wide.

Max’s mustache was bushier, maybe to balance the weak crop up top. Though it would never threaten the beast lurking under Hector’s nose.

I was startled. There was a definite twinkle in Max’s eye this morning. I asked, ‘‘Manvil, what’s happened?’’

Gilbey understood. This was the surprise he’d promised. ‘‘He’s found a reason to live.’’

Max shoved a beefy hand at me. ‘‘Damned straight. How you doing, Garrett? Enough friggin’ snow for you?’’

Sounded like he had been taste-testing the product. ‘‘I’m filled up on it, yeah. Alyx came by the house. With a covey of—’’

‘‘Felt like a rooster in a henhouse, didn’t you? That Bobbi makes me wish I was forty years younger, I’ll tell you.’’

I glanced at Gilbey. Manvil had a twinkle in his eye, too. ‘‘Have you guys suddenly turned into dirty old men? Suddenly?’’

‘‘No,’’ Max said. ‘‘We’re too far past it even to pretend.’’

‘‘Speak for yourself, Weider,’’ Gilbey snapped. ‘‘This soldier ain’t ready to lie down.’’

‘‘It ain’t the lyin’ down, Bubba. It’s the gettin’ up.’’ Old Man Weider made a wave-off gesture, then indicated a chair close by. ‘‘Park it. Let’s talk.’’

‘‘I can’t take the heat.’’

‘‘I should remember. I’m the lizard. The rest of you are warm-blooded.’’ He compromised. He moved far enough from the fire that I would just sweat, not drip drops of grease.

‘‘So, what’s the story? Alyx was vague.’’

‘‘That girl’s always vague. She ain’t right. I need to find her a husband.’’

‘‘Don’t look at me.’’

‘‘I didn’t think you’d volunteer. One of the reasons I like you. Though never too close to my baby girl.’’

Gilbey asked, ‘‘Want a beer while we talk?’’

‘‘Sure. And you bringing that up makes me wonder if I shouldn’t change my mind.’’

‘‘About?’’

‘‘About marrying. Alyx. I’d have free beer for life.’’

Max chuckled. ‘‘It wouldn’t be a long one, Garrett. That girl has notions about how things oughta be, even if she ain’t figured out where she fits. Still, you talkin’ about marryin’ for the beer instead of the money . . . I like that.’’

Gilbey lugged over three big tankards. He settled. We three made up points of a lopsided triangle.

The professional fire tender left without being invited. Probably part of his job to know when.

I said, ‘‘There was talk about ghosts. And bugs.’’

‘‘At the World, you mean.’’ Gilbey. With foam on his upper lip.

‘‘That’s why I’m here, isn’t it?’’

‘‘Partly,’’ Max admitted.

‘‘Mostly,’’ Gilbey said.

‘‘Mainly.’’ Old Man Weider drained off half a pint.

‘‘There’s something going on over there that ain’t right. I don’t believe it’s ghosts. I think it’s somebody working stunts. With extortion in mind.’’

‘‘There are bugs, though,’’ Gilbey said.

‘‘In the winter?’’

‘‘In the winter. And the World won’t work if the customers have to deal with bugs.’’

I didn’t say so but bugs are a fact of life. In my world, anyway. You have to come to a natural understanding with them, so to speak.

‘‘You’ll see,’’ Gilbey promised.

My skepticism was too obvious.

Gilbey clambered to his feet. I thought he was going for refills. I was wrong. He collected a drawing board, two feet by three. A sheet of fine handmade paper was affixed. Someone had used writing sticks to create excellent drawings of a building.

I have a small financial interest in the manufactory that produces the writing sticks and a dozen other miraculous gimmicks.

Max has a bigger chunk of the same operation. As does Tinnie’s family. They provided the capital. I delivered the inventor.

Max said, ‘‘They call those ‘elevations,’ Garrett. That’s what the World will look like when it’s done.’’

‘‘All right. I’ll take your word. But these two here look more like maps than pictures.’’

Gilbey said, ‘‘They are maps. This is the ground-level layout. The band pits. The stages. The passageways to the center. We thought we could do the vendor work out of there. A carpenter who knows theater told us that was dumb. So that’s where the actors will wait and change and where the ready props will be stored. The vendors will operate from under the second– and first-class seating.’’

‘‘All right.’’ I followed his finger but didn’t really picture it. ‘‘It looks like a pie.’’

‘‘Our clever innovation,’’ Max said. ‘‘There are a lot of theaters these days. Not many get a full house after the first week of a play’s run. So we’ll run three at once. With limited audiences. That will make it harder to get into one of our shows. So, if you do, you’ve got something to brag about. People want to be part of the elite. We manage it right, we’ll have them trying to outdo each other in how many times they’ve been to one of our plays. We’ll use special paper tickets that they can keep and show off.’’

Max has a knack for creating artificial shortages that spark snob appeal.

Gilbey added, ‘‘We’re still a ways from a final plan. We’d like to come up with movable walls so we can change the size of the pie slices.’’

‘‘All right,’’ I said. ‘‘I see the layout. What’s this?’’

‘‘That’s the cellar. Under the floor and stage. So people and stuff can come up from there. And for storage. Prop storage is a big problem for theaters.’’

Max chimed in. ‘‘This will be only the second theater in TunFaire built to be a theater.’’

‘‘And all this is going up now? In the weather we’re having?’’

‘‘Yep. But it isn’t going as fast as it should.’’

I was amazed. TunFaire’s construction people don’t like to work in bad weather. On the other hand, they’re not fond of not eating.

Gilbey said, ‘‘We want to open in time for the spring season.’’

Thatwas ambitious. But Max Weider generally accomplishes what Max Weider sets out to do.

‘‘All right. I know the general plan. What do you want from me?’’

Gilbey told me, ‘‘What you do across the street. Show up unexpectedly. See what’s going on.’’

‘‘Find out who’s sabotaging things,’’ Max said. ‘‘It’s trivial stuff now. Pranks. Petty theft. Vandalism. Nobody’s asked for protection money yet, but it feels like it could turn serious.’’

‘‘Ghosts and bugs aren’t serious?’’

‘‘Nuisances add up.’’

‘‘Finances? In case I need to bring in other people? Assuming you want quick results.’’

‘‘I haven’t caught you robbing me yet. Manvil, give him what he needs. Keep records, Garrett.’’ Not one of my strengths, he knew. ‘‘I’m interested in results.’’

Max is a bottom-line guy. And proof that good things happen when you keep an eye on that end of life’s math.

Gilbey prepared papers. I asked, ‘‘The Old Man really has a new reason to live?’’

‘‘When he forgets Hannah and the kids. The theater excites him.’’

‘‘And you?’’

He lied, ‘‘I’m pretty much past the worst.’’

‘‘And Alyx?’’

‘‘Alyx worries us. Alyx hasn’t faced it yet.’’

‘‘All you can do is watch her and be ready when she needs you.’’

‘‘How are you going to start?’’

‘‘Go look around the construction site.’’

‘‘Use the papers. I’ll have your advance against expenses messengered to your place.’’

‘‘Good. It won’t be my fault if the money evaporates somewhere out there.’’

‘‘No. But Max would take a long, hard look if anything did happen.’’

People don’t have much faith in other people’s honesty anymore.