Arlette had told me. When I repeated the denigrating phrases, I kept my voice low, but I had to persuade Leah to subdue her exclamations of outrage.
”These bastards couldn’t have known Jeanine’s history, of course,” I commented. ”And I’m not even all that sure that it’s relevant, anyway. You don’t have to have been raped to be supersensitive to cruelty.”
”But, Holly, these people didn’t care one way or the other! People like that don’t give a shit whose feelings they hurt just as long as they hurt someone’s.”
I agreed. ”And damn!” I added. ”The adopters were our guests. Great hospitality we offered!”
”But now that it’s happened, what are you going to do about it?”
”For the moment, nothing, really. Just not overreact. That’s why I don’t want Betty to know. I’m afraid she’ll fly off the handle, and I really think that creating a big hullabaloo about it would be counterproductive. The point here is to promote a positive image, and a major fuss would be so negative. Also, this was just two rotten apples, and I don’t want the good people to feel as though they’re being blamed. The whole feeling was so warm; I hate to spoil that.”
”But you can’t just do nothing /”
”Oh, I’ll write about it, I guess. Not that it’ll do any good,” I added morosely.
”The pen and the sword and all that.”
”Right now, Leah, if I knew who those two people were, I’d greatly prefer the sword.” Then I switched to a happier subject by pointing to a row of five or six campers and trailers parked along the edge of the field like giant sled dogs hitched in single file. ”When we get rich,” I said, ”that’s what we’re going to have—a little house on wheels.”
”Bristling with luxuries,” Leah agreed. ”Kimi, leave it! Would you please refrain from consuming things that are not food! Or we won’t give you a ride in our lusciously decadent camper. You’ll be stuck home eating garbage and... Hey, isn’t it illegal for those to be here?”
”Only if you sleep in them.”
Unexpectedly money-conscious, my cousin said, ”So people don’t sponge off the hotel.”
On the grass at the edge of the blacktop, Rowdy squatted and produced. Ms. Responsible Dog Owner that I am, I pulled a plastic clean-up bag from my pocket and scooped up after him. As I deposited the waste in a nearby trash barrel, I said, ”Also so they don’t start their generators at six A.M. and wake up the paying guests.”
Strolling past the enviable campers, Leah and I played at choosing ours. In the dim parking lot, all looked—and probably were—the usual dog-show-camper beige. A sort of stretch-camper the length of three limos was so intimidating that neither of us wanted to drive it. We rejected another: two people, two dogs, too small.
”I wonder if what’s-his-name’s is here.” Leah has beautiful enunciation. Highly educated people can be very embarrassing.
”Shh!” I hustled Rowdy away from the campers and onto the grass at the edge of the field. ”Tim Oliver. Probably. It’s possible that he’s talked Betty into telling the hotel that his camper is hers. She’s more softhearted than you might think. Oliver might’ve called her room or just showed up there and given her some story about how he doesn’t have the money to pay the campground because he spent it all on vet bills.”
”You know, Holly, he’s just the kind of little shit who’d get off on making sure someone like Jeanine heard him say ’trash dogs.’ And then turn around and suck up to Betty.”
”Actually, I had the same thought myself. Rowdy, hurry up! This is a n-i-i-i-ce place to go! Hurry up!” Rowdy anointed the wall of a little white shed that was apparently used to store recreational equipment. I thought it was the same place he’d marked that morning. Whether because of the killing of Elsa Van Dine or my own anger about Jeanine’s pain, Rowdy’s harmless leg-lifting made me wonder about
”These bastards couldn’t have known Jeanine’s history, of course,” I commented. ”And I’m not even all that sure that it’s relevant, anyway. You don’t have to have been raped to be supersensitive to cruelty.”
”But, Holly, these people didn’t care one way or the other! People like that don’t give a shit whose feelings they hurt just as long as they hurt someone’s.”
I agreed. ”And damn!” I added. ”The adopters were our guests. Great hospitality we offered!”
”But now that it’s happened, what are you going to do about it?”
”For the moment, nothing, really. Just not overreact. That’s why I don’t want Betty to know. I’m afraid she’ll fly off the handle, and I really think that creating a big hullabaloo about it would be counterproductive. The point here is to promote a positive image, and a major fuss would be so negative. Also, this was just two rotten apples, and I don’t want the good people to feel as though they’re being blamed. The whole feeling was so warm; I hate to spoil that.”
”But you can’t just do nothing /”
”Oh, I’ll write about it, I guess. Not that it’ll do any good,” I added morosely.
”The pen and the sword and all that.”
”Right now, Leah, if I knew who those two people were, I’d greatly prefer the sword.” Then I switched to a happier subject by pointing to a row of five or six campers and trailers parked along the edge of the field like giant sled dogs hitched in single file. ”When we get rich,” I said, ”that’s what we’re going to have—a little house on wheels.”
”Bristling with luxuries,” Leah agreed. ”Kimi, leave it! Would you please refrain from consuming things that are not food! Or we won’t give you a ride in our lusciously decadent camper. You’ll be stuck home eating garbage and... Hey, isn’t it illegal for those to be here?”
”Only if you sleep in them.”
Unexpectedly money-conscious, my cousin said, ”So people don’t sponge off the hotel.”
On the grass at the edge of the blacktop, Rowdy squatted and produced. Ms. Responsible Dog Owner that I am, I pulled a plastic clean-up bag from my pocket and scooped up after him. As I deposited the waste in a nearby trash barrel, I said, ”Also so they don’t start their generators at six A.M. and wake up the paying guests.”
Strolling past the enviable campers, Leah and I played at choosing ours. In the dim parking lot, all looked—and probably were—the usual dog-show-camper beige. A sort of stretch-camper the length of three limos was so intimidating that neither of us wanted to drive it. We rejected another: two people, two dogs, too small.
”I wonder if what’s-his-name’s is here.” Leah has beautiful enunciation. Highly educated people can be very embarrassing.
”Shh!” I hustled Rowdy away from the campers and onto the grass at the edge of the field. ”Tim Oliver. Probably. It’s possible that he’s talked Betty into telling the hotel that his camper is hers. She’s more softhearted than you might think. Oliver might’ve called her room or just showed up there and given her some story about how he doesn’t have the money to pay the campground because he spent it all on vet bills.”
”You know, Holly, he’s just the kind of little shit who’d get off on making sure someone like Jeanine heard him say ’trash dogs.’ And then turn around and suck up to Betty.”
”Actually, I had the same thought myself. Rowdy, hurry up! This is a n-i-i-i-ce place to go! Hurry up!” Rowdy anointed the wall of a little white shed that was apparently used to store recreational equipment. I thought it was the same place he’d marked that morning. Whether because of the killing of Elsa Van Dine or my own anger about Jeanine’s pain, Rowdy’s harmless leg-lifting made me wonder about
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