Page 14 - The Myth and the Moment

Morning

There! Got the end of the pole. Still no air in the line. If I get right
back on it, maybe they won’t notice how cloudy the water is.
“Oh, no offense, Phil. We all make mistakes.”
“Ho! We sure made a lot of big ones at the Blue Dharma. It all
seemed so easy, writing plays, producing them, scraping up the bucks
to do the next one. Well, that’s youth. Water over the dam, eh?”
Damn your water, Phil.
“Right you are, Phil.”
Keeps following me around the pool. Why doesn’t he go back to
his guests and his dragon-wife?
“You know, that reminds me, Nate: whatever happened to those
plays you wrote back then? You still have them?”
Is he serious?
“No, not anymore. I moved so many times they got left behind
somewhere, along with a box full of scratchy old jazz records, ten
years’ worth of Evergreen Reviews, and my ex-wife.”
That ought to shut him up.
“Didn’t know you’d gotten married, Nate. Anyone I know?”
“No.”
“Well, what the hell, a lot of fish went over the dam, too; but a
mess of `em are still behind it, ready for the hook.”
There.
“Excuse me, Phil. I just need to switch the valves around and get
these hoses out of here and I’ll be done. It was nice seeing you
again.”
Now try the back of my head.
“Hey, wait a minute, Phil. This is your lucky day. Someone else is
here you might remember. Hey! Aestheria! Come over here. Guess
who’s turned up disguised as a pool man?”
Aestheria? That woman in the purple gown putting down a glass
on the table. Coming here. What an expression: swallowed the olive
in her martini, no doubt. But those eyes! Alcohol doesn’t do that to
the pupils.
“Yes, Philip?”
“May I present to you the distinguished poet, playwright, and
algae-scraper, Nathan Evangelino.”
“Nathan? Nate! Where did you find him, Phil?”

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