Ronald Rabbit Is a Dirty Old Man - Lawrence Block [49]
If not for this, you never would have started an affair with Steve. I could have told you, for example, that the guy has a Nietzschean attitude toward women. You know the passage in Zarathustra about women being like dogs? The more you beat them, the more they love you? He used to walk around quoting that in college.
To put it bluntly, the man is a sadist. I don’t know what the brute did to you, but I can make a pretty good guess. If I’m right, you would never have had to worry about getting pregnant.
Well, let’s not dwell on unpleasant things. Although you’re absolutely right that our marriage is over—and was over, in many respects, well before you first started sleeping with Steve—I still feel responsible for your welfare. Maybe responsible is the wrong word for it. I care for you, Fran, and I’d like to see you get yourself back on the right track. An affair right now would be the worst thing for you, you’re dead right about that, but at the same time it’s not going to do you any good moping around with some old aunt in Albuquerque.
May I make a suggestion? I think what you need is some time in the open air, time to think, time to relax, time to reactivate your old interest in horseback riding under a clear and unpolluted sky. And, coincidentally enough, there’s a place right near where you are now that I happen to know of, and I can’t think of any spot in the world that would be better for you.
It’s the Bar-Bison Dude Ranch, and the mailing address is Altamont, New Mexico. Unlike so many resorts where you would have men constantly chasing after you, this is a genuinely relaxing place. Do me a favor. Hell, do yourself a favor. The minute you put down this letter, pick up the phone and call Bar-Bison and make a reservation. And go there right away.
I promise you it’ll do you a world of good.
Larry
37
c/o Gumbino
311½ West 20th St.
New York 10011
July 26
Miss Mary Katherine O’Shea
and Miss Barbara Judith Castle
Bar-Bison Dude Ranch
Altamont, New Mexico
Toothsome Merry Cat and Succulent B.J.:
I am enclosing some correspondence from and to my wife, Fran. I think these letters are self-explanatory. Perhaps the summer will turn out to be more entertaining than you may have guessed.
Ellen was here recently and sends you both her love. Alison is due shortly with what she describes as an erotic painting for our apartment. And I had a letter the other day from Dawn and Naughty Nasty Nancy. It looks as though Camp Whatchamacallit is working out well, although Dawn had a fairly hysterical scene with a lifeguard. But rather than spoil it, I’ll let her tell you herself when she sees you.
While nothing’s certain in this vale of tears, I think you can expect a visit from my wife before long. You professed to wonder what she was like, and now I think you’ll be able to find out. The name Merry Cat may be familiar to her, so herself might start calling herself just plain Mary, and B.J. can get used to Barbara. We all have to make occasional sacrifices.
Oh, hell, I don’t have to teach you angels how to scheme. Like teaching birds how to fly.
The ball’s in your court, kittens. Have fun.
Uncle Larry
38
BAR-BISON DUDE RANCH
ALTAMONT
NEW MEXICO
“Where Nothing’s Barred Except The Bison”
August 8
c/o Gumbino
311½ West 20th St.
New York 10011
Hi, Uncle Larry!
This is secret agent Barbara speaking. Say hey, next time you give the Dolly Sisters an assignment, make it a tough one. We were all excited and couldn’t wait for your better half (hardly!) to get here. We kept hatching one outrageous plot after another and secret agent Mary would whisper something to me and we would both burst into a fit of hysterical laughter and before long they were all giving us funny looks. Even the horses thought we were crazy.
And they were right!
All seriousness aside, Uncle-Poo, we checked the registrations and saw she was really coming and really started in hatching