Diana Dueyn - The Big Meow

“Why, how wonderfully…ethnic!” Miss Harte said, turning away from Helen to smirk at the Silent Man. “You know, you’re just going to be confirming what everyone’s heard about your exotic tastes in the ladies.” She somehow managed to make “exotic” sound like a bad word. “But then it’s to be expected, I suppose, as what you’re used to by now. Your wife’s a Spanish countess, after all, no matter what some people say! And where is Mrs. Runyon, by the way? It’s been so long since we’ve seen her around.”

The Silent Man just looked at Miss Harte. Finally he reached for the pen again, aware that in the shadows of the door into the main room, people were standing, trying not to look as if they were watching. He scribbled for a moment, tore a page off the pad and held it up.

OUT OF TOWN

“I’m sure she is,” Miss Harte said. “Well, while the cat’s away! – so to speak.” She smiled what even Rhiow could have told was a poisonous smile for an ehhif, if her whiskers hadn’t already been practically vibrating with the sense of happy spite that emanated from the woman.

Miss Harte turned on Helen a look that was as simultaneously dismissive and envious as the expression of the Person in her bag. “Are you in the business?”

“The only one that matters,” Helen said, still smiling.

Miss Harte sucked in a long, happily scandalized breath. “Oh, my!” she said. “And you’re so open about it! But I’m sure you’ll do very well at it, with your dark good looks.”

“Thank you,” Helen said, that absolutely imperturbable smile shifting not a fraction. “But better an honest darkness than night masquerading as the innocent day.”

At that Miss Harte blinked, but only for a second. “And you recite your lines so nicely, too! You should really come out and meet some of the really important movie people, so that you can get out of the bit-part rat race! A whole lot of the people from the big studios are going to be up at the party at Dagenham’s tonight. It’s an open party, Mr. Runyon would have no trouble getting you in, there are lots of people who’d love to see someone like you there – ”

Rhiow sat there in wonder listening to that little tinkly voice, which seemed able to imply something cruel or cutting with practically every word. It made her think of the sound that broken bottles made when dumped into the Manhattan garbage trucks early in the morning: little razor-sharp shards, raining down, every one of them capable of slicing you deep if you would only pick it up the wrong way… “Oh, do come along to Dagenham’s tonight, Mr. Runyon! They’d be ever so surprised to see you.” Some further nasty implication lay behind the words: Rhiow was uncertain whether she wanted to know just what. “And just for a laugh, you should bring all your little friends!” The People were included in the glance, but the word seemed mostly for Helen.

“Dagenham’s?” Helen said, looking over at the Silent Man.

He shook his head, shrugged.

“Oh, you must know Elwin Dagenham, he does freelance PR for Goldwyn and Paramount and everybody, and he’s so successful at it, he has a lovely big house up in the hills, there’ll be just hundreds of influential people, and all that champagne and caviar! He has the most wonderful caterers, but then he would have to, with all the important people he knows, you can’t serve them just anything – ”

Miss Harte went prattling on, and the Silent Man watched her, apparently politely enough. But watching him, Rhiow could see – if the queen-ehhif couldn’t – that there was absolutely no engagement in his eyes. His regard of Miss Harte was entirely the detached look of a scholar examining some exotic and faintly repulsive life form. For her own part, Rhiow started to wash her face, and used the moment to steal another look at that dress. She wasn’t entirely clear about ehhif fashions of this period, but the top would have seemed cut fairly low in her home time. “’Ruah,” she said to her teammate with a sidewise glance, “is it just me, or is this queen-ehhif – “

“ – for here and now, dressed in a way that’s just a yowl short of rolling on the ground and waving her ffiyth in the air?” Urruah said. “Absolutely.” He glanced out toward the front room. “No wonder the maitre d’ wanted to get her out of sight. There would be some ehhif queens who dress that way around here, but not in daylight, and not in respectable places…”

The broken glass just kept on tinkling down. “…and you know, Mr. Runyon, it would do you good to get out, after all, we so rarely see you out in good society any more! It’s such a shame. I know everyone’s sure it’s your work keeping you so busy, but you’ve had such difficulties lately…”

The Silent Man held quite still again. Then he reached down to his pad: wrote, scribbled, tore the page off and displayed it.

MIGHT JUST DO THAT. FOR A LAUGH.

Rhiow, looking at the cool ironic set of his face, strongly suspected that the Silent Man had his own opinions about who the laugh would be on. But Miss Harte clapped her hands in glee. “Oh, how wonderful! I can’t wait to tell everyone! And you’ll bring Miss Softly with you? Oh, please say yes!”

“I might have something to say about that myself,” Helen said in that low musical voice of hers. Rhiow blinked, and saw Urruah’s eyes widen, as he caught what Rhiow had. Has she been spending too much time with us? Urruah said privately, amused. That was nearly a growl.

Your highest praise for an ehhif, isn’t it usually? Rhiow said, amused too. That with some work you could make a Person out of them? “However,” Helen said, “yes, I’ll come. It might possibly be interesting to see some of these important people.” And she glanced over at the Silent Man and dropped him just the hint of a wink.

That small thin smile came back, and Rhiow was glad to see it. Helen looked up again, and her eyes and Miss Harte’s locked.

“Well, isn’t that lovely then!” Miss Harte said. “Things will be starting up around eight, I believe: don’t be too late, you’ll miss the fun!”

And with a whirl and a rustle of crinoline from under the sky-blue silk, she went click-click-clicking away, back out through the door into the outer room. The Silent Man’s glance followed her. As soon as she was safely out through the door, and tinkling the beginning of a stream of inconsequentia at someone else in front room, his face relaxed a little: but the expression in the Silent Man’s eyes put Rhiow in mind of the look you might see on a tom who was considering a juicy spot in which to sheathe his claws at some later date.

Helen merely smiled. Silently she said to the group, Racist remarks, comments on my acting skills, and accusations of whoredom within sixty seconds of introduction! She quirked an eyebrow at the Silent Man. Possibly a record? About average for her, actually, the Silent Man said, sounding a touch relieved at Helen’s unconcerned tone. If she’d known you at all, she wouldn’t have taken so long. I’m just glad you’re not carrying a gun today.

If I was going to do something about her, Helen said, it wouldn’t be with a gun. Her grin went cheerfully feral.

The Silent Man’s smile loosened up too. Next to him, Sheba opened her eyes slightly, stretching, and then sniffed. “Is it just me,” she said, “or did I smell someone else in here?”

“Someone else was here,” Urruah said, “and did she ever smell. No wonder she didn’t want to get out of that bag.”

Sheba’s eyes opened a little wider. “Maiwi!” she said, and hissed under her breath. “That fat furball! And her nasty little ehhif, I’m sure.”

“In the so-completely revealed flesh,” Urruah said, and wrinkled his muzzle in the way a Person does when they’re sampling a scent that turns out not to have been exactly pleasant.

Hearing Sheba’s hiss, the Silent Man picked her up and started to stroke her. Sorry, doll, he said, then glanced at Helen. She annoyed about our little visitor?

“Both of them,” Helen said.

The Silent Man looked annoyed as well. ‘Giorgio sent me back to see your kitties,’ he said. If that’s true, Georgie-boy doesn’t get his usual fat tip today, I’ll tell you that.

“On the contrary,” Helen said, rubbing her ungloved hands together and then reaching out to her wine glass. “Whatever you usually give him, I think you should double it.”

They all looked at her in surprise. Rhiow looked at Helen’s hands: the gesture had been like that of someone trying to get rid of some unpleasant substance or smell.

What’s that mean? the Silent Man said.

Helen sipped her wine, put the glass down again. “I wish I could tell you for certain,” she said. “I don’t know as yet. But it’s a scent – a sense – I’ll know right away if I run into it again. And somehow I have a feeling that someone she’s associated with will have some bearing on what we’re looking into. So I’m very glad,” she said, folding her hands in front of her like someone trying to hold them still, “that you agreed to go to this party.”

Helen, Rhiow said. What is it??

I don’t know. I’m not sure. For the moment…it’s just what I said. “But I’ll give you this,” Helen said aloud, looking over at the Silent Man, “Miss Harte’s not your usual practitioner of the dumb blonde act.”

Or any other kind, unfortunately, the Silent Man said. Fired her once, after she got a job on the production of a film version of one of my stories. She couldn’t cut it. Nice face, nice figure, no one’s arguing that. But can’t act, and can’t get along with anyone who can. Never saw anyone like her for ruining a good working mood on a set.

“What was that crack supposed to mean,” Hwaith said, “‘cradle-robbing?’”

The Silent Man didn’t look up for a moment, straightening the fork and spoon that remained of his place setting. This town’s full of gossip, he said. If they can’t find something mean and scurrilous to say about you that’s true, they’ll get mean and scurrilous about the appearances. You learn to pay it no mind.

Rhiow held her tail and her ears quite still, like someone who hadn’t heard a comment, and resolved to have a quiet private word with Sheba about this issue; for the pain suddenly seemed to be simply jutting out of the Silent Man from all angles, like fur a-bristle. Heartbreak: you can just smell it. Poor ehhif…

The Silent Man rubbed his eyes. We should probably get back and get some rest, he said, if we’re going to do this shindig tonight. He paused, looking at Helen. What about you, gorgeous? If you’re with these guys, do you need somewhere to stay too? Though he looked faintly uncomfortable as he said it.

Helen shook her head. “Don’t worry about me,” she said. “I’m taken care of. And under the circumstances – “ She glanced back in the direction of the main room. “I’d bet that, after Miss Harte’s little performance, somebody out there’d be all too willing to tip off one of the chattier gossip columnists if we left together.” She stood up, smoothing her dress. “So I’ll say goodbye here, until this evening. I’ll meet you tonight at your place, if that’s convenient. Say seven thirty?”

That’ll be fine.

She reached out a hand, and the Silent Man took it. “See you then.” She glanced down at the People. “You’ll be all right here?” she said to Rhiow.

“Absolutely,” Rhiow said. “We’ll see you later, cousin. Dai stiho.”

Helen waved at them all and went swaying elegantly out through the front room. The Silent Man looked after her appreciatively, though the expression was tinged with curiosity. She’s right about the rumor-mongers, he said. They’ll be buzzing after tonight.

“That’s not going to make a problem for you, is it?” Urruah said.

The Silent Man folded his napkin and put it on the table. Not one that hasn’t been made before, he said, leaning a little sideways to catch the eye of one of the wait-staff in the main room and nod at him. And some of these problems I kind of enjoy.

The check arrived and was dealt with, and the People put themselves in order and headed out after their host as he made for the front door. All around, once again, ehhif stared at them and made amused comments. Rhiow did her best to ignore them, and hardly knew whether to be amused or appalled by Urruah, who stared right back at the ehhif as the group passed, giving them a Person’s mocking version of the human smile. “You’re like something out of one of those cartoons you keep trying to get me hooked on,” Rhiow said as they slipped out into the street, where the light was slanting golden toward later afternoon. “I think the cable in your dumpster is rotting your brains!”

“Just the pressure of celebrity,” Urruah said as they followed the Silent Man back around the corner to the car.

“Oh, please,” Rhiow said under her breath. But then she let the breath out. I’m getting cranky, she thought as they all climbed back into the car. Probably a good time to take my own advice and have a long nap… She sat back and watched the scenery start to go by again. I meant to tell you, though, she said privately to Urruah: you and the Silent Man, when he was having trouble getting to grips with what was going on — that was nicely handled, back there.

Urruah shrugged his tail. It’s got to be tough, being asked to believe so many impossible things in a day. He just needed someone to talk a little tough to him and get him over the hump.

Rhiow put her whiskers forward. And to do it in a tom’s voice, she thought. He might not have taken it so well from me.

The drive back was quiet. Arhu and Siffha’h were showing the inevitable aftereffects of a moderately strenuous wizardry followed by a big meal, and Urruah and Hwaith were both looking dozy; Sheba promptly fell asleep again on the Silent Man’s shoulder as they drove away from Hollywood Boulevard. When they pulled up in front of the Silent Man’s house, the People got out and trotted toward the door with weary pleasure.

Inside, as the Silent Man closed the door, Rhiow stood looking up at him for a few moments as the rest of her team wandered off into the house to find places to rest. Possibly he felt her regard, or just saw the thoughtful waving of her tail: he looked down. Something I need to do? he said, taking off his hat and hanging it on a hook by the door.

“Rest,” she said. “You’re sure you’re all right, otherwise?”

The small thin smile manifested itself again, though edged with weariness, as he loosened his tie. You mean, has it been an unusually strange day, even for me? Yes. Am I hanging onto my sanity regardless? As far as I can tell, yes. Thanks. And he surprised her by getting down on one knee and scratching her behind the ears. Are you all right? I get a feeling some of this hasn’t exactly been a normal day’s work for you, either. Whatever your normal day’s work looks like.

She put her whiskers forward. “No,” she said, “no, it hasn’t. And it won’t be later, either, I’m sure. But I’ll manage. Sleep well, cousin.”

You too.

He headed off into one of the back rooms, with Sheba padding after him: Rhiow heard a door shut.

She yawned prodigiously, blinked, and then took a turn around the open downstairs rooms to see where everyone was. Arhu and Siffha’h had already curled up on the sofa in their normal thoughtlessly affectionate heap, and were snoring more or less in unison, with one of Siffha’h’s self-maintaining force fields cordoning off their area. Urruah had found himself a place up in the Silent Man’s bookcase and tucked himself up into a compact round furball, and was dozing. Hwaith had stretched himself out in front of the open back door and was lying on his back with his eyes closed and his paws folded across his chest.