first time and began to speak of the Commission on AGING and that the council members were âhonored and gratifiedâ that so eminent an individual as its chairman, Congressman Kerwin Stephens, was present.
Iâd forgotten all about the guy, despite Lucreziaâs remarks to me. But he was indeed present, for Brizante concluded his remarks by saying he hoped the afternoonâs meeting had indicated the need for federal assistance in combatting the many serious problems which had in the past two years begun to plague Sunrise Villas, and that Congressman Stephens had graciously consented to speak âa few wordsâ to the assembled council members.
Brizante moved his chair aside, and from one of the seats behind me a man arose and walked to the end of the oval table. Standing there, between Brizante and creepy Mr. DiGiorno, he began to speak. And, grudgingly, I had to give him a silent hand. He actually did keep it down to a few words.
Congressman Kerwin Stephens was a rather odd-looking bird. I choose the noun with care. He looked like a bird. Not any particular kind of bird. Just a whole bunch of birds mashed together. He wasnât a small, wispy manâIâd say he was five feet, ten or eleven inches tall and weighed about one-seventyâbut his features, individually and collectively, were very, well, very birdy.
His hair was gray and smooth and full, and combed straight back from forehead to nape of neck; his eyes were small, almost beady, black as ripe little berries; and his nose was so thin and arched and hooked, and looked so much like a beak, I expected it to open and clack when he began to speak. He did have a fine, rich voice, vibrant and full yet soft, mellow but husky, like the cooing of a dozen doves with flu. But, after all, he was a Congressman, and men in politics rarely sound like chalk screeching on a blackboard.
Stephens came across quite well. After merely stating that he was not in Arizona seeking votesâhe was from out of stateâbut that if his constituents ever failed to return him to âthe Hill,â God forbid , he would himself like to live in a community such as Sunrise Villas. He even made a little joke to the effect that he meant a Sunrise Villas in which the plumbing worked without fail. He appreciated the problems, the great need , and concluded by saying, âAnd I am one of those who sincerely believe in the oft-quoted phrase, âFind a Hole ⦠er, Find a Needâand Fill It.â I have already visited similar communities in California and Oregon, gentlemen, and I can honestly say your need here is greater than anything I have previously encountered. Of course, I cannot promise that the entire Commission will share my views, but I can assure you that my personal recommendation will be that one of the first AGING grants be made to Sunrise Villas.â
Everybody applauded. Well, almost everybody. Then Stephens spoke briefly to Brizante, smiled, nodded, and left.
I discovered, almost to my dismay, that I had been quite impressed by the man. Brizante gaveled the meeting to an end, and Lucrezia and I stood up. Mr. Brizante nodded to his daughter and smiled, spoke for a moment longer to the Reverend Archie who was standing next to him, then both of them walked over to us.
Lucrezia performed the introductions and I shook hands, first with her father. His grip was strong, the skin of his hand not calloused but rough, and he smiled at me, showing strong, crooked, clean and very white teeth. The Reverend Archieâs skin was soft and smooth, and his palm felt almost squishy, like warm dry fat. Maybe part of it was that he merely extended his hand and let me pump it, his fingers returning no pressure, just sort of going along for the ride. And when he smiled he showed no teeth. His lips stretched out and curved up at the corners, almost sweetly; but no teeth peeked through.
We mumbled a few inanities, and I said this was the first council