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Authors: Patrick Flynn
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prolonging my miserable life."
   Madelaine sighs. "You can do better than that."
   "I'll do better when I write her reward check."
   "Ron has decided that he's a hated man," Madelaine tells Agnes.
   "I am," says Wegeman.
   "Don't be absurd," says Madelaine, laughing. "Agnes, is this a hated man?"
   Agnes hesitates, and Madelaine pounces.
   "Surely you don't agree with Ron," she says.
   Agnes stammers. "Well, I mean, just look at him. It's right there, isn't it? If anyone in New York is hated, he is."
   "I told you," says Wegeman triumphantly.
   Madelaine is aghast. "How can you say that?"
   "I'm just telling the truth," says Agnes. "He throws old ladies into the streets and blights the landscape with skyscrapers. And he's delighted with himself."
   Madelaine is puzzled. "What's he supposed to be?"
   "Not honest, that's for sure," rasps Wegeman. "Fuck. I knew it. Fuck. Fuck."
   "I would think people would be happy for him," says Madelaine.
   Agnes almost bursts out laughing at the women's saucer-eyed innocence.
   "Fat fucking chance," says the Great Man. "I've got it, and they don't, and they hate me for it. Agnes is right."
   Madelaine is dubious. She strokes her husband's hair. He probes his leg wound with a back scratcher. "It's just so hard to believe, Ron. You're such a mild little soul. Remember, you weren't shot by just anyone. That horrible man Geister had a grudge."
   One of the nurses fluffs the Great Man's pillow. He opens his pajama top and presses his palms against the dressing. He cries out in anguish.
   "Stop fiddling with it!" barks the nurse.
   Two beautiful women in matching zebra-striped bathing suits appear at the edge of the pool. They dive in and begin swimming laps. Two equally beautiful representatives from Holly Days, Inc., appear in the sickroom with stepladders and what looks like a laundry cart. They start removing Christmas decorations.
   Wegeman grimaces. "I want to show you something," he says to Agnes. "Imagine you're in New York for the first time. You're a tourist. What do you want to see first?"
   "That's easy," says Agnes. "The City Hall subway station. The original. It's closed nowâthe Lexington Avenue line uses it as a turnaround loop. But it's supposed to be beautiful. It's got these Moorish, sweeping tiled vaults. I've seen pictures of it. It looks like a chapel, or a mosque."
   Wegeman flashes the same look of contempt Agnes has seen him give to attorneys and anchormen and the mayor. His big catfish lips curl with gusto.
   "The City Hall station, eh?" he says mockingly. He tries to control his temper. "How about something a more typical tourist would be interested in?"
   "The Circle Line," says Agnes.
   He smiles. He picks up the telephone and asks his secretary to get him the Circle Line. He waits for a moment, then smiles again. He hands the receiver to Agnes. She hears a busy signal.
   He takes back the telephone and speaks to the secretary. "Try the NBC tour."
   Busy.
   "Try the advance ticket window at Yankee Stadium."
   It takes the secretary a minute to place the call.
   "What'd you think of the gorilla?" Wegeman asks Agnes.
   "It was quite a surprise," says Agnes. "I didn't think anybody actually liked that sort of thing."
   "Well excuse me for fucking living," he says.
   "Ron...." says Madelaine.
   "I like that sort of thing," says the Great Man haughtily. His face twists into a sour little smile. "Were you embarrassed?"
   "Yes."
   "Did you want to jump out of your skin?"
   "Yes."
   "You're a stiff, Travertine," he says, delighted with the pain he
   Madelaine sighs. "You can do better than that."
   "I'll do better when I write her reward check."
   "Ron has decided that he's a hated man," Madelaine tells Agnes.
   "I am," says Wegeman.
   "Don't be absurd," says Madelaine, laughing. "Agnes, is this a hated man?"
   Agnes hesitates, and Madelaine pounces.
   "Surely you don't agree with Ron," she says.
   Agnes stammers. "Well, I mean, just look at him. It's right there, isn't it? If anyone in New York is hated, he is."
   "I told you," says Wegeman triumphantly.
   Madelaine is aghast. "How can you say that?"
   "I'm just telling the truth," says Agnes. "He throws old ladies into the streets and blights the landscape with skyscrapers. And he's delighted with himself."
   Madelaine is puzzled. "What's he supposed to be?"
   "Not honest, that's for sure," rasps Wegeman. "Fuck. I knew it. Fuck. Fuck."
   "I would think people would be happy for him," says Madelaine.
   Agnes almost bursts out laughing at the women's saucer-eyed innocence.
   "Fat fucking chance," says the Great Man. "I've got it, and they don't, and they hate me for it. Agnes is right."
   Madelaine is dubious. She strokes her husband's hair. He probes his leg wound with a back scratcher. "It's just so hard to believe, Ron. You're such a mild little soul. Remember, you weren't shot by just anyone. That horrible man Geister had a grudge."
   One of the nurses fluffs the Great Man's pillow. He opens his pajama top and presses his palms against the dressing. He cries out in anguish.
   "Stop fiddling with it!" barks the nurse.
   Two beautiful women in matching zebra-striped bathing suits appear at the edge of the pool. They dive in and begin swimming laps. Two equally beautiful representatives from Holly Days, Inc., appear in the sickroom with stepladders and what looks like a laundry cart. They start removing Christmas decorations.
   Wegeman grimaces. "I want to show you something," he says to Agnes. "Imagine you're in New York for the first time. You're a tourist. What do you want to see first?"
   "That's easy," says Agnes. "The City Hall subway station. The original. It's closed nowâthe Lexington Avenue line uses it as a turnaround loop. But it's supposed to be beautiful. It's got these Moorish, sweeping tiled vaults. I've seen pictures of it. It looks like a chapel, or a mosque."
   Wegeman flashes the same look of contempt Agnes has seen him give to attorneys and anchormen and the mayor. His big catfish lips curl with gusto.
   "The City Hall station, eh?" he says mockingly. He tries to control his temper. "How about something a more typical tourist would be interested in?"
   "The Circle Line," says Agnes.
   He smiles. He picks up the telephone and asks his secretary to get him the Circle Line. He waits for a moment, then smiles again. He hands the receiver to Agnes. She hears a busy signal.
   He takes back the telephone and speaks to the secretary. "Try the NBC tour."
   Busy.
   "Try the advance ticket window at Yankee Stadium."
   It takes the secretary a minute to place the call.
   "What'd you think of the gorilla?" Wegeman asks Agnes.
   "It was quite a surprise," says Agnes. "I didn't think anybody actually liked that sort of thing."
   "Well excuse me for fucking living," he says.
   "Ron...." says Madelaine.
   "I like that sort of thing," says the Great Man haughtily. His face twists into a sour little smile. "Were you embarrassed?"
   "Yes."
   "Did you want to jump out of your skin?"
   "Yes."
   "You're a stiff, Travertine," he says, delighted with the pain he
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