Catsby: A Novel

Chapter 17

When I returned to the Jersey Shore, I was afraid whatever was left of my house was on fire again. Nine o'clock in the evening and the whole shore appeared to be ablaze. As my cab turned the corner, I saw that the glow was coming from Catsby's house. Dozens of tents were pitched on his lawn, with lights of every color strung between them. There were rickety Ferris wheels and tilt-a-whirls as well, with carnies taking tickets and smoking. Mostly smoking, as there didn't appear to be anyone in attendance at this impromptu festival. Catsby strolled across the lawn to greet me.

"Your place looks like a county fair," I said.

"It does?" He surveyed his front yard unenthusiastically. "I guess so."

"Why else would you set up all these rides?"

He kicked the dirt. "I thought a carnival might be fun, that it might remind me a little bit of the fairs of my youth. But now I'm not so sure. It was a stupid idea. Let's get out of here, Old Spice. We'll take my Segway into the city."

"How about a raincheck? It's been a long day."

"It has been a long day, hasn't it? How did you and Miss Bleu get along?"

"We had...fun together. She's a tough one to read. One minute she's a good girl, the next she'll let loose the filthiest thing you ever did hear. We're going to a Yankees game on Saturday."

Here I paused, and Catsby waited for me to continue.

"She also mentioned that you and my cousin once knew each other," I said. "I'm going to text Dandelion and invite her over for lunch this week."

"Oh, that's not necessary. You don't have to go to all that trouble."

"It's no trouble at all. Really—I think she'd have a grand time. What day would work best for you?"

Catsby glanced around at the fair in progress on his lawn. "I'd probably want to have all of this cleared out first. How about later in the week, say, Thursday? Around noon."

I nodded. The chances of Dandelion being free during the day were close to a hundred percent. She didn't work, and had no children to care for during the day. Her days were like her nights, in that regard. The only problem was—

"I totally forgot that I have to work this Thursday," I said. "I've been off so long, I don't even remember what it's like. Maybe I could invite her over for dinner instead?"

"Dinner's too formal," Catsby said. "Say.... What if you didn't have to go back to work? What if you came to work for me, Old Spice?"

If you've been following my story so far, you know that my job was about more than money. On the other hand, I was already disillusioned with the publishing industry. Scrubbing the serial numbers off fanfiction had run me down long before I landed in the hospital.

"What do you propose?" I asked. "This doesn't have anything to do with your folf friend, does it?"

"Oh, no, nothing to do with him," Catsby said, shaking his head. "It is...confidential, though. I'd need to know if you're interested, before I tell you. It's just this little business I run on the side."

"You're not a bootlegger, are you?"

"Oh, heavens no. Moonshine is so Boring Twenties. Have you ever heard of a business called Amway?"

"Isn't that a pyramid scheme?"

He recoiled at my question. "'Scheme' is a strong word. Amway is a business that levels multi-level marketing techniques to maximize sales and growth for entrepreneurs. We sell consumer goods like healthcare products and jewelry."

"But the more people that sign up to sell Amway underneath you, the more you make, right? Isn't that a pyramid?"

"It's more like a triangle."

"Aren't pyramids and triangles the same thing?"

Catsby sighed. "Let's agree to disagree. Bottom line is, thanks to Amway, I have money. Now, being rich isn't as thrilling as I'd assumed it would be. I always thought when I had money that I'd have money. Like Scrooge McDuck. Have you ever seen Duck Tales? That guy had a roomful of coins that he swam in."

"It sounds unsanitary. Every year or two there's a study that examines what's on our currency, and fecal matter tops the list. Well, fecal matter and cocaine."

"Sounds like the makings of a great party," he said. "In any case, I've been looking someone to manage my money. Since you work with books, you seem like the logical choice."

"We might be talking about two different types of books," I said. "I'll take a look, though, if it will make you feel better."

"It would, Old Spice. It would. But let's worry about all that later. As you said, it's late. I'll show you to the room I've set up for you, and you can get some sleep."

He led me through his house, which I only vaguely recognized without the throngs of partygoers. The place looked badly in need of remodeling—a woman's touch, specifically. Not surprising, since Catsby was also in need of a woman's touch. Perhaps Dandelion could turn his frown upside down. Putting them back in touch was risky, though, as Tucker would certainly not approve. But isn't everybody owed some sort of happiness in this world? Even if only for a few hours, over tea. I called Dandelion from my room once I settled in for the evening. It was after midnight, but I knew she and Tucker kept late hours.

She answered on the second ring. "I thought you were dead!"

"The rumors of my death were greatly exaggerated," I said, stealing a quote from Mark Twain. He wasn't using the phrase any longer—he was dead now, no exaggeration.

"Don't joke about death. You always say such morbid things. Sad to say, I think I'm coming around to see it your way."

"You're becoming a misogynist?"

"A massage therapist, Dick? I could use a good deep-tissue massage after the week I've had. The kids are hell. Hell, I say! At least that's what the nanny says."

"Then why don't you take a day off from the Park Slope rat race. Come out to the Shore for lunch some day. Like Thursday."

"Aren't you working?"

"I've got a new gig. I'll tell you all about it over tea. Just you and me. No one else, especially not anyone you used to know or anything."

"Make it a Long Island iced tea and I'm in."

"It's a deal," I said. After I hung up, I began trying to formulate a plan to get an iced tea all the way from Long Island to New Jersey without the ice melting.