This evening, Annabel went down there after the dishes were put away, and I took her place on the edge of the bathtub with my head in the clothes chute. It is none too comfortable. Sometimes in fact, when the conversation drags, it hardly seems worth the effort.
The beginning was very slow. Much fussing with laundry, putting away of empty bottles, etc., and a few feeble openers like, “If that’s The Grand Canal of Venice, I believe there’s a piece missing.”
No answer from Ralph. It is well known in this family that The Grand Canal has got a piece missing in the sky part.
(Hello, notebook. Sometimes when I’m putting stuff down in here, I like to stop and kiss the page. I don’t know why. It just makes me feel good for some reason.)
A moment passed, and then Annabel said: “When they’re not interlocking, it drives me crazy.”
“The Grand Canal of Venice,” said Ralph, “is interlocking.”
“No it’s not, sweetheart. Look. See? If it was interlocking these pieces would just hang together in the air.”
No answer from Ralph.
Then she said, “Have you talked with Clinton yet?”
“Nope.”
“Do you have any intention of so doing?”
“If he comes to me of his own free will.”
“Oh, but you don’t believe in free will,” she said.
“That’s right.”
“End of conversation!” After a few seconds, she said: “I’d like to have one of your cigarettes, please. Will you light it for me?” He probably handed her the matches. I could tell by her tone when she said, “Thank you.”
This clothes chute is a lot better than the radio. They always spell it all out for you on the radio, but with this thing, you have to fill in with your imagination.
Annabel said, “I respect the fact that you have nothing to say, but I do. I intend to send him to a— some kind of a psych—some sort of counselor.”
“Send who to a what?”
“That’s what I want to discuss. As his father, it occurs to me you should have some say-so.”
“You bet your ass . . . !”
“Ralph!”
“. . . I’ve got some say-so!”
“Do you forbid it?”
“Yes. I forbid it.”
“What about his own free will? You just said . . . !”
“Aaaannnnabelll.” He dragged it out for about ten seconds. This dragging out of a person’s name has got about three uses. Ralph says it makes a person reconsider what they’ve said, it lets them know how foolish it sounded, and it’s a good stall. When he went on, his voice seemed to be addressing some little kid. “The free will in which I disbelieve is the Catholic kind that’s got to do with committing sins. I say if a man beats up his poor old grandmaw, free will’s got nothing to do with it. His glands, his environment, and all the powers of the universe since time began have conspired to force that man to take a clip at her.”