Running with Scissors Read Online Free PDF Page B

incredible woman. Highly evolved. Spiritually, she is the woman who should be my wife.” His face flushed slightly and he adjusted his belt buckle. “So reading about her, well, it always has a powerful effect on my libido. Just five minutes before you came in here I was admiring her picture in the paper. As a result, I will need to relieve myself after the two of you leave.”
    I looked at the closed door, could picture the ratty couch in the room behind it; the bookcases filled with drug samples; the ancient copies of The New England Journal of Medicine. I could picture the Penthouse magazines, columns of them, next to the sofa. The thought of fat Dr. Finch ditching a patient to go jerk off in the back room while he looked at pictures of airbrushed vaginas—or worse, Golda Meier—was disturbing.
    “Would you like a tour?” he asked.
    “Of what?” I said.
    My mother coughed.
    “Of the Masturbatorium, of course,” he roared.
    I rolled my eyes. I did sort of want a tour, but it seemed sick to actually be excited. I looked at the poster of Einstein on the wall behind his head. It read: Boredom is an affliction of youth. “No, I’m bored. I have to go.”
    “Well, alright. But it’s your loss,” he said. “You don’t know what you’re missing.”
    Actually, I did know because Hope had already shown me the room months ago. Although it seemed like I probably shouldn’t let him know I’d seen it already. “Okay, let’s go on a tour.”
    With great effort, he rose from his chair.
    “May I bring my cigarette into your Masturbatorium, or do I need to put it out?” my mother asked.
    “Smoking is a great privilege in my sanctuary. But for you, Deirdre, I will allow it.”
    My mother bowed. “Thank you.”
    But opening the door to the Masturbatorium revealed a surprise. Hope had left her post as receptionist and was napping on the seedy couch.
    “What is this?” Finch bellowed. “Hope!” he boomed.
    Hope startled awake. “Jesus, Dad. You scared the shit out of me.” She blinked against the light. “Oh my God, what’s the matter with you?”
    Finch was furious. “Hope, you have no business being in here. This is my Masturbatorium and you’re using my blanket.” He pointed at the colorful crocheted throw Hope had wrapped around herself.
    The tassels along the edge were stuck together.
    “Dad, I was just taking a nap.”
    “This is not the place for naps,” he bellowed.
    My mother turned around to leave. “I think I’ll get a fresh cup of Sanka.”
    “Wait a minute, Deirdre,” Finch said.
    My mother froze. “Yes?”
    “Do you see how Hope’s behavior is wrong?” he asked.
    My mother brought her cigarette to her mouth. “Well, I really don’t know.”
    Hope sat up on the couch.
    “Deirdre, answer me,” Finch demanded. “Do you see how Hope’s sneaking in here and invading my private space is wrong?”
    After a moment of thinking about it, my mother said, “Well, I can understand not liking one’s space invaded. I can understand how it would be upsetting to have somebody messing with your things without asking.”
    “Then confront her!” Finch directed.
    I stood back, not wanting to get sucked in.
    “Well, I . . .”
    “Deirdre, speak up! Tell Hope what you feel.”
    My mother looked at Hope as if to say, What can I do? Then she said, “Hope, I don’t think it’s right for you to disturb your father’s space without asking.”
    “This is none of your business, Deirdre,” Hope said. Her eyes were squinty with anger.
    My mother took another drag from her cigarette and tried to leave again. “I really think I’ll just get another cup of Sanka.”
    Finch grabbed her arm. “Just a minute there, Deirdre. Are you going to let Hope walk all over you like that? Jesus Christ, Deirdre. Are you going to be Hope’s doormat?”
    My mother turned sharply to Finch. “I’m not Hope’s goddamned doormat, Finch. This just isn’t any of my business; she’s right. It’s between you and