Read Online Fair Play by Tove Jansson - Free Book Online Page B

kids?”
    â€œFine. Willy’s had a sore throat, so John’s bound to catch it. Getting sitters is hopeless.”
    The bar had grown crowded.
    â€œGive these ladies some space!” Annie yelled. “They’re from Finland.”
    Verity turned to the Stetson and told him cheerfully that her new friends, among other curious undertakings, had traveled a great distance out of the city “in order to see a cactus garden, of all things—cactus that doesn’t even flower—and there’s an entrance fee!”
    â€œVery bad,” said the Stetson sadly. “Pure weeds. I cleaned out a whole patch of them at the Robinsons’ last week. They didn’t pay much.”
    â€œLet me show you something interesting,” said their neighbor to the left. “Look, a wonderful little item that ought to sell like nobody’s business, but doesn’t.” He put three small plastic dogs on the bar, one pink, one green, one yellow, and the dogs began marching side by side, the green one in the lead. Mari looked at Jonna, but Jonna shook her head. It meant, no, he’s not trying to sell them, he just wants to amuse us.
    The friendly crowding, the jukebox, the pool balls clicking from the curtained-off section of the room, a sudden laugh in the even flood of conversation, a voice being raised to object or explain, and people coming in the whole time and somehow finding space. Annie worked as if possessed but with no trace of nerves, her smile was her own, and the fact that she was hurrying did not mean time was short.
    They left the bar and walked back to the hotel. The broad street was empty, and there were lights in only a few windows.
    â€œThe cactus garden,” Mari said. “That was nothing to laugh at. It was done with great care, with great love! Just sand and more sand, all the plants prickly and gray—they were as tall as statues or so tiny they had to put up barriers so people wouldn’t step on them, and everything had its name on a visiting card. It was a brave garden.” She added, “Verity, you’re brave yourself.”
    â€œWhat do you mean?”
    â€œThis city. And the hotel.”
    â€œWhy do you take everything so seriously?” Verity asked. “Cactuses like sand, they grow, they do all right. Visiting cards, that’s dumb! And I’m doing all right myself. At the Majestic I know all the codgers and all their tricks and dodges, and I know Annie, and now I know you. I’ve got everything I need. And Phoenix is just the place where I happen to live, right? What’s so remarkable about that?”
    The desk clerk woke up when they came in.
    â€œVerity,” he said, “you’ll have to take the stairs, you know. But the elevator will be running again tomorrow.”
    The elevator was decorated with bows of black ribbon. As they were climbing the stairs, Verity explained. “Albert died this afternoon, on the second floor. So we’re paying our respects.”
    â€œOh, I’m so sorry,” Mari said.
    â€œNo need to be sorry. He never had to face that birthday he was so worried about. Jonna, when will your films be ready?”
    â€œTomorrow.”
    â€œAnd then you’re going on to Tucson?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œThere’s probably no Annie’s bar in Tucson. I’ve heard unpleasant things about that town, I really have.”
    In the room, Verity had put all the shoes she could find in marching order toward the door and turned the flower vase upside down. The curtains were drawn, and the suitcase lay open. Verity had been explicit.
    Jonna’s films were ready the next day. They could see the bus trip across Arizona on the camera store’s picture screen, a small device that the owner had placed on the counter for the convenience of tourists. Jonna and Mari watched in silence. It was dreadful. An incoherent, flickering stream of pictures sliced to bits by telephone poles,