Read Online Creature Discomforts by Susan Conant - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Susan Conant
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and preservation of what’s left, the way we do here. It isn’t writing crazy letters all on your own about banning cars from Cadillac.”
“Nobody ever answered your question,” Tiffany said to me. “What the foundation does is to let people invest their money in a way that benefits the environment. The investors put their money in the foundation, and the foundation reinvests in environmental concerns and makes grants to conservation groups. And then it pays the investors back, just like a bank, only with a lot higher interest.”
“Malcolm is the founder,” Quint said. “And C.E.O. Malcolm Fairley. You probably know that.”
“Yes, of course,” I said as knowingly as I could. Then I turned my attention to the clams. Steamers are disgusting only if you’re used to cherrystones, littlenecks, and other kinds of quahogs. With steamers, you remove the clam from the soft shell and then peel an icky-looking membrane off the neck before dipping the clam first in clam broth, then in butter, then into your mouth. Steamers have big, squishy, creamy bellies and chewy necks. Eating steamers keeps you busy enough to explain any lack of full participation in conversation.
“What’s special,” said Effie, tossing a superior glance toward her husband and Tiffany, “is that besides having investors and grantees, the Pine Tree Foundation also has donors—benefactors, they’re called—which is what makes a lot of the grants possible and makes the foundation such an attractive investment. So, the investors—like the people here, some of them, and lots of others—can put their money in the foundation instead of in stocks or bonds or whatever, and do very, very well, and benefit the environment, all at the same time. It’s a perfect example, actually, of what I meant about Norman Axelrod. He saw everyone and everything around him benefitting from the foundation. He even knew the people, like Malcolm—everyone knows Malcolm Fairley—and knew that they were committed to Acadia and to preserving the island and to keeping Maine green and all the rest. Everyone else knows what a good thing the foundation is for everyone! It’s obvious! So, naturally, Norman Axelrod wouldn’t have anything to do with it and didn’t have one good word to say about it.”
“Cutting his own throat,” Quint remarked.
“Quint! Now look who’s using the wrong—”
“Sorry,” Quint said. “What I meant was he could see for himself that the investors had done very well. My aunt, for example. Gabbi was one of the initial investors, and she did so well that she keeps reinvesting, and so do plenty of other people. So Norman Axelrod knew what a good investment the foundation was, and he still turned down the opportunity. Just to be oppositional.”
I tried to speak in a tone that was half statement and half question. “But he and Gabrielle stayed friends...?”
“Oh, that’s Gabbi.” Effie said it affectionately. “If you want an extreme case in point—”
Quint interrupted her with a soft, growly, “Effie, not here!”
Tiffany helped me out by whispering, “Quint means Opal and Wally Swan.”
I swallowed a clam. “And...?”
Tiffany looked aghast. As if confiding that Wally and Opal were convicted child molester serial chainsaw murderers, she whispered, “They’re developers! Swan and Swan. They build houses! And condo complexes, when they can get away with it. The whole idea of the foundation is keeping Maine green. And the whole idea of Swan and Swan is cutting down every tree on Mount Desert Island. Quint hates the Swans just as much as Effie does.”
Despite Tiffany’s low volume, Quint must have overheard, because, in normal tones, he said, “Mount Desert Island has a fragile ecosystem. We’re bombarded by threats from the outside, like air pollution blown in from the Midwest, acid rain, acid fog, acid snow. But we’ve also got water pollution that originates here. And habitat fragmentation. You can’t preserve a
“Nobody ever answered your question,” Tiffany said to me. “What the foundation does is to let people invest their money in a way that benefits the environment. The investors put their money in the foundation, and the foundation reinvests in environmental concerns and makes grants to conservation groups. And then it pays the investors back, just like a bank, only with a lot higher interest.”
“Malcolm is the founder,” Quint said. “And C.E.O. Malcolm Fairley. You probably know that.”
“Yes, of course,” I said as knowingly as I could. Then I turned my attention to the clams. Steamers are disgusting only if you’re used to cherrystones, littlenecks, and other kinds of quahogs. With steamers, you remove the clam from the soft shell and then peel an icky-looking membrane off the neck before dipping the clam first in clam broth, then in butter, then into your mouth. Steamers have big, squishy, creamy bellies and chewy necks. Eating steamers keeps you busy enough to explain any lack of full participation in conversation.
“What’s special,” said Effie, tossing a superior glance toward her husband and Tiffany, “is that besides having investors and grantees, the Pine Tree Foundation also has donors—benefactors, they’re called—which is what makes a lot of the grants possible and makes the foundation such an attractive investment. So, the investors—like the people here, some of them, and lots of others—can put their money in the foundation instead of in stocks or bonds or whatever, and do very, very well, and benefit the environment, all at the same time. It’s a perfect example, actually, of what I meant about Norman Axelrod. He saw everyone and everything around him benefitting from the foundation. He even knew the people, like Malcolm—everyone knows Malcolm Fairley—and knew that they were committed to Acadia and to preserving the island and to keeping Maine green and all the rest. Everyone else knows what a good thing the foundation is for everyone! It’s obvious! So, naturally, Norman Axelrod wouldn’t have anything to do with it and didn’t have one good word to say about it.”
“Cutting his own throat,” Quint remarked.
“Quint! Now look who’s using the wrong—”
“Sorry,” Quint said. “What I meant was he could see for himself that the investors had done very well. My aunt, for example. Gabbi was one of the initial investors, and she did so well that she keeps reinvesting, and so do plenty of other people. So Norman Axelrod knew what a good investment the foundation was, and he still turned down the opportunity. Just to be oppositional.”
I tried to speak in a tone that was half statement and half question. “But he and Gabrielle stayed friends...?”
“Oh, that’s Gabbi.” Effie said it affectionately. “If you want an extreme case in point—”
Quint interrupted her with a soft, growly, “Effie, not here!”
Tiffany helped me out by whispering, “Quint means Opal and Wally Swan.”
I swallowed a clam. “And...?”
Tiffany looked aghast. As if confiding that Wally and Opal were convicted child molester serial chainsaw murderers, she whispered, “They’re developers! Swan and Swan. They build houses! And condo complexes, when they can get away with it. The whole idea of the foundation is keeping Maine green. And the whole idea of Swan and Swan is cutting down every tree on Mount Desert Island. Quint hates the Swans just as much as Effie does.”
Despite Tiffany’s low volume, Quint must have overheard, because, in normal tones, he said, “Mount Desert Island has a fragile ecosystem. We’re bombarded by threats from the outside, like air pollution blown in from the Midwest, acid rain, acid fog, acid snow. But we’ve also got water pollution that originates here. And habitat fragmentation. You can’t preserve a
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