Read Online Hotel Paradise by Martha Grimes - Free Book Online Page B

bench. Of course he’d seen me, as I had him, a hundred times before, going in and out of the store, but this seating arrangement must have struck him as novel. He said, “Evenin’,” though it was still afternoon. I imagine he probably had his dinner around four o’clock, like so many old people who tend to get up really early—dawn, I’d’ve bet—and go to bed the same way. I smiled at him and said “Hello” and that was our conversation.
    We sat there counting cars, me eating my jujubes, him chewing his tobacco, until finally the Woods came along down the narrow gravel path beside the store. They went in, but came out soon, both with bottles of Nehi grape. They both nodded and smiled, and I didtoo, getting up to give them their regular seats, but Ubub told me, “Knit dow, knit dow,” which I guess was “Sit down,” for he patted the air downward with his palm. I sat next to the man in the railroad cap, and Ubub sat next to me with Ulub on the end.
    Now we were four. I offered my jujubes around and they all took only one—not much if you know jujubes. Ulub waited to see what Ubub was going to do with his jujube, and when Ubub put it in his shirt pocket, Ulub put his away too. The man in the railroad cap had not put his teeth in that day, but he gummed the jujube around, mixing its fruity taste with the Mail Pouch tobacco. You’ve got to be careful of jujubes if you’ve got teeth, for once one gets stuck in a crevice it’s like cement. I once told Marge that the dentist in town should use jujubes for fillings.
    The three of them seemed very pleased I was there, as we sat with our candy and pop and Mail Pouch, and I did fit in pretty well, I thought. I have always been rather unusual in this regard—that I take on the coloring of whatever I’m experiencing at the moment and blend in with it. Sometimes I think I could be used to plug up holes in things with this way I have of becoming where I am. I like to think this is a compliment to myself, but I’m not sure.
    Anyway, it was nice to know that just my presence created an enjoyable novelty for them. The Woods knew who I was, because they lived in a frame house in a muddy quarter-acre across the road from the back driveway of the hotel. They had also done a few odd jobs around the grounds. Our regular handyman, Wilton Macreedy, doesn’t like them and calls them “retards” and “idiots.” As far as I’m concerned there is no bigger idiot than Wilton Macreedy, who’s a drinker and spends a lot of time over in the El Lobo Bar and Grille that the Sheriff wants Ree-Jane to stay out of. It’s located between Hebrides and La Porte, and Wilton Macreedy drives his ancient Ford pickup over there and starts fights. He’s mean and has a jealous nature. You’d have to be really poor in spirit to be jealous of the Woods, but that’s what Wilton is.
    I didn’t want to call them “Ulub” and “Ubub,” for I wasn’t sure but what it might offend them. I didn’t think they were both named Bob, so I sat there trying to figure out how to address them. Well, of course: “Mr. Wood” would be the proper way. So I asked Mr. Wood (Ubub) if he could think back forty years or more, and was it true he and (I nodded towards Ulub) the other Mr. Wood there had workedfor a family named Devereau that lived in that house out on the lake. The house where no one lives anymore.
    “Len seh,” Ubub said. “Duen-rwoh.” He knit his brow with the effort. I would like to have told him that the way he pronounced the “reau” in “Devereau” made me want to take him right along to the hotel and have him say hello to Ree-Jane. He was made to order for pronouncing that crazy French name just the way she said. Imagine, Ubub Wood, the only person who could really pronounce “Réjane”! I tucked that away to tell her.
    When Ubub was saying this, Ulub was watching him intently and making lip movements in imitation of Ubub’s. Then Ulub nodded several times, and Ubub nodded,