I Smell Esther Williams Read Online Free PDF Page B

reaching for the ashtray.
    “If you’re going to the laundry, take the stuff I’ve got.”
    “What stuff?”
    “It’s in a pile next to the hamper.”
    “Do you want that velour thing cleaned?”
    “No, leave it. I might want to wear it if I go help Norman with the car tonight.”
    “His Fiat?”
    “No, Barbara’s Malibu.”
    “What happened to it?”
    “Steven had a little accident with it or something.”
    “Why can’t he just …”
    “The trunk’s just jammed.”
    Arooooooga! Arooooooga!
    “I think I hear her coming.”
    “Carla?!”
    “Carla!” they both yell.
    There are no pets in the house. At least none have ventured into the kitchen and one would imagine the smell of breakfast to be a pungent animal attractant.
    “Where was Vilas going to be before Tokyo?”
    Arooooooga! Arooooooga!
    “What?”
    “Where did it say Vilas was going to be before Tokyo?”
    She leafs back through the paper, “Copenhagen.”
    “I knew something reminded me of Danny Kaye.”
    “What’s that got to do with Danny Kaye?”
    “He sang that song ‘Wonderful Wonderful Copenhagen’ in that film about Hans Christian Andersen.”
    “Norway seems like it would be nice.”
    “Copenhagen’s Denmark.”
    “I know, I meant Norway.”
    Arooooooga! Arooooooga!
    “Are you going to call Marilyn about the house this summer or should I?”
    “This week’s very bad for me,” he says, lighting a True Menthol.
    “What’s so bad?”
    “Busy. I’ve got that thing in Morris County coming to trial Thursday—Friday if we’re lucky. And I’ve got that crazy business with your brother-in-law’s doctor …”
    “Carla only wants to come for half this summer if we go.”
    “It’s up to her.”
    “I’ll call then.”
    “Ask her about something closer to the beach this time.”
    “The other one wasn’t that far.”
    “It was a twenty minute walk.”
    Arooooooga! Arooooooga!
    “Carla!!” she yells.
    He counts his change and yells too, “Carla!”
    “What’s she doing?”
    “Is she in the bathroom?”
    “She might be in there.”
    “Do you have quarters?”
    “Wait … yeah. When Marilyn talked to …”
    “I need quarters now for the lot. I owe them sixty cents from a few weeks ago anyway.”
    “You should park in the lot near your father’s old store.”
    “That’s a fifteen minute walk.”
    “Isn’t it free?”
    “It’s not even so near that store—it’s about two blocks … it’s nearer to the Stanley than to the store.”
    “It’s first come first serve anyway … you could see a movie on the way.”
    “They’re all Spanish.”
    “You never took Spanish in …”
    “There’s no Spanish there now anyway—it’s all Indian now.”
    “… there’s Indonesian, Indian …”
    “There’s about eight Indian groceries.”
    “You should get me some curry.”
    “You can get curry at the supermarket—I bet it’s cheaper.”
    “You think that would be cheap?”
    “Cheaper.”
    “If it’s cheaper here, no one would shop there, never mind open eight groceries.”
    “They live there—they shop there. It’s got nothing to do with saving a few pennies. It’s neighborhood stores …”
    “If it’s a few pennies, you could just as easily pick me up some things.”
    “Like what things?”
    “Like curry powder.”
    “I’m not even parking near there. I owe the other lot about sixty cents so I have to go there anyway.”
    “I don’t have time to fool with that anyway this week. We’ll have franks tonight—on the grill or something … maybe just a cold salad. I have my hands full this week. I have about three months of late planning to do in one week …”
    Arooooooga! Arooooooga!
    “What are you doing?”
    “Counting the months till July.”
    “On your fingers? It’s three months.”
    “You don’t even know when you’re taking your month. How can I make any arrangements?”
    “I told you … Make arrangements and I’ll work around them.”
    “Alright then, I’ll