Cape Cod Noir - By David L Ulin Page 0,79

keep in here?” she asks.

“Oh, well, this and that.” He stands and runs a hand over the door. “Spiffy!” he says.

On her way out, while they’re saying goodnight, Aggie feels the urge to tell him about Otto, about Carl, about the fact that she’s been sneaking the puppets home with her every night. She touches his arm, and a shocked look appears on his face, then quickly stows itself behind a strained smile.

Ted looks very tired again. “See you at the theater,” he says.

16.

Carl has invited everyone out to his place on the Vineyard. In the morning, Aggie drives to Jared’s house to pick up Otto. Jared starts to say something about how he’ll be at the play, but she hurries off, telling him that she has to catch the ferry.

The entire cast and crew (except for Ted, who declined the invitation with an embarrassed fluttering of his hands) meet at the Steamship Authority. On board, Alex sits across the table from Aggie and says, “Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve … you know?”

The Hands of the Orphans are hidden on Aggie’s lap. She squeezes their fingers.

“Two and a half years!” says Alex.

Aggie doesn’t know whether or not she’s supposed to believe her.

“Do you believe me?” Alex asks.

“I’m not sure what we’re talking about.”

Alex takes a white marble from her pocket and sets it on the table. The marble rolls slowly one way, then the other. It goes right to the edge of the table and stops there. Aggie holds her breath, waiting for it to fall, but Alex grabs it just before it drops.

“What does your tattoo mean?” Aggie asks.

Alex keeps her arms extended, turning it over so the script is in the light. It runs from her wrist to the crook of her arm, all angles, swoops, and dots. “It’s Tibetan for one of the four immeasurables,” she says. “But I forget which.”

17.

Around his property, among the trees and on the grassy slope down to the beach, Carl has erected dozens of wood and metal sculptures. Some have faces, some are just hands. “Derelict things,” he calls them. “I make them in my spare time.”

One has spinning windmill sails on top of its large, Buddha-like body. Perry reaches out to touch it.

“Don’t touch that,” Carl says.

He puts on an old jazz record. Everyone sits on blankets and opens picnic baskets. Otto scampers among them while they eat, begging bits of meat from their sandwiches. Then one of the stagehands leans back and bellows, “I wish I knew how to play a game of pies!”

“This is supposed to be a break,” says Carl.

Alex stands up and bunches the front of her skirt into her hands, as though preparing to run. “I should like very much to teach you how to play.”

Perry, stammering a bit, says, “Right here, upon the greensward?”

“Right here,” Alex answers, staring straight at Carl. “Right here upon the greensward, and to hell with what old Lord Lumpish thinks.”

18.

The baker is hard at work, and the kitchen is hot, hot! He’s rolling out a fresh batch of dough when he hears a knocking at the door. Who could it be? A customer?

The baker goes to the door, opens it just a little, and peers outside. “Who’s there?” he asks, though the baker can see who’s there. It’s the devil with the dirty face and hands.

“The devil with the dirty face and hands,” says the devil.

“Go wash your dirty face and hands!” the baker says.

The devil sighs and goes to the well. He draws up a bucket of water, kneels over it, and washes his dirty face and hands. Then he returns to the baker’s door and knocks again.

“Who’s there?” the baker asks.

“The devil with the clean face and hands.”

“Well, come right in!” the baker says.

Now the devil is feeling fine. He likes it here in the hot, hot kitchen. He can smell good things cooking. “Do you have any pies today?” asks the devil.

“Of course I have pies,” the baker says. “Can’t you hear them clapping in the oven?”

19.

They go for a walk on the beach together. Otto weaves among their legs, grabbing pieces of driftwood and barking at the ones he can’t get his jaws around.

Alex picks up a stick and throws it for the dog to fetch. Watching him run, she says, “He doesn’t look like he’s dying.”

“I know,” says Aggie. “But Jared tells me he cries all night. It’s some kind of cancer.”

“You’re doing the right thing, absolutely,” says Carl.

“Because you’re