In The Unlikely Event Part 19

Will They Ever Know?

By Henry Ammerman JAN. 28-The initial findings in the probe of the Jan. 22 crash of an American Airlines Convair point to a sharp, almost vertical drop of the plane. When it was noted that this must have resulted from a radical equipment breakdown, chief CAB investigator Joseph O. Fluet said he was not yet ready to draw any conclusions.

But another official, speaking off the record, speculated that the pilot might have tried to pull the plane upward in a desperate effort to redirect the crash away from Battin High School, leading to a stall, which caused it to plummet directly to earth. He noted that the pilot, Timothy Barnes, had grown up in Elizabeth and had graduated from Hamilton Junior High and Thomas Jefferson High School. He lived only a few blocks from Battin.

Captain Barnes surely realized the possible implications of cras.h.i.+ng into that particular building on a school day.

17.

Miri "Life goes on" became Irene's mantra. If Miri heard that expression one more time she was sure she would explode, just like the planes. If life goes on, then why shouldn't she go with Frekki Stra.s.ser to the Paper Mill Playhouse?

"Out of the question," Irene said.

"Because..." Miri prompted.

"Because you can't trust the Monskys."

"You think Frekki is going to kidnap me and send me to another planet in a flying saucer?"

"You'll discuss it with your mother."

"Ben Sapphire wants to take you to Miami Beach," she told Irene. "Who's to say he's not going to kidnap you and take you on a flying saucer?"

"I should be so lucky."

"You'd like to get on a flying saucer with Ben Sapphire?"

"What's all this about flying saucers?"

It was true that Ben Sapphire wanted to take Irene on a trip to Miami Beach. He reminded them his wife was heading there when her plane went down in the Elizabeth River. As if they needed reminding. Miri still saw that plane in her sleep. She could feel the heat. She'd wake up drenched with sweat and have to change her pajamas. Once she was awake she found it hard to get back to sleep. To calm her nerves, to take her mind off Plane Crash City, she'd look into her kaleidoscope, telling herself, You're getting sleepy, you're getting very sleepy...If all else failed there were stories in the paper that gave her other things to think about.

ACTION! CAMERA!.

One of many candid camera shots taken during the play "Goodbye, My Fancy," presented by the Vail-Deane School Dramatic Club, a.s.sisted by the Pingry Players.

You could tell the pretty blonde in the photo in the paper wearing the strapless dress with a full skirt was the lead. She was probably the most popular girl at Vail-Deane. Miri imagined herself at Vail-Deane, wearing a blue jumper and white blouse, the school uniform. All the girls at Vail-Deane were rich. They dated the boys at Pingry, who came from the same kinds of families. Some of the boys crossed themselves before basketball games. Miri had been to a game once with Suzanne, who had a cousin at Pingry. All of them went off to fancy colleges. Then they married each other and lived in single-family houses with big backyards, had chubby babies and drank themselves to death. Miri knew the part about drinking themselves to death wasn't necessarily true. She was just trying it out to make their lives seem less perfect.

Irene Ben called Irene his "safety net." Without you I'm lost. Your warmth calms me. She could think of worse things for a man to say to her. Rusty once accused her of rescuing people the way some people rescue stray animals. The way Mason had rescued Fred. Miri had told her about that, about how he'd found Fred starving and wet in a snowstorm when he was just a puppy. No collar. No tags. Mason had nursed him back to health. Miri knew Irene would respond to that story. But she still wouldn't let the dog into her side of the house. Ben Sapphire, on the other hand, wasn't a dog. He was a grown man who owned apartment buildings in Jersey City and Elizabeth. And he considered himself mishpocheh, one of the family, with her blessing.

She told Rusty she was thinking of taking him up on his offer to go to Miami Beach. They would travel by train. "Maybe for a week or two, although Ben would like to stay longer."

From the look on Rusty's face you'd think she'd just announced that a man had landed on the moon.

"He has two bedrooms," Irene said, "one for him and one for me, and my own half bath, just a few blocks from the ocean."

Miri, who wasn't included in this discussion but was listening anyway, kept her mouth shut.

"I know his family," Irene continued. "He knows mine. What could go wrong?"

Now Rusty looked at her as if she'd lost her mind.

"You think I don't know he could have any woman he wants-with his real estate and his new Packard? Am I somebody who ever wanted another husband? I have everything I need right here. My family, good friends, plenty to do. But a little adventure-what could be bad?"

"You know what could be bad," Rusty said.

"You're worried I'll get pregnant?" When Irene laughed, Miri laughed with her.

Rusty, stony-faced, didn't. "I'm worried about your feelings, your heart-"

"I have pills for my heart."

"Not if it gets broken."

"Darling...thank you for caring so much."

Rusty shook her head and walked out of the room.

Miri stayed and gave Irene a hug.

Daisy Longy had the last appointment of the day. "You know, Doc, you look like h.e.l.l, no offense meant."

And it was true. Dr. O had dark circles under his eyes and was so p.o.o.ped at the end of office hours he sometimes took a snooze on the couch before heading home. Daisy was worried and prayed it wasn't his heart. She'd been there when he'd lost his two brothers to back-to-back heart attacks while still in their forties.

"You need a vacation," Longy said. "Come to Vegas with me. We'll shoot c.r.a.ps. Eat the best steaks you ever tasted. I'll show you around town."

"Sounds good, Abe, but I can't get away now."

"Doc, sometimes when you think you can't, that's the time you have to." Longy could be very persuasive. "You like Betty Hutton?"

"Is the pope Catholic?"

Longy laughed. "She's playing in Vegas next week."

"I wish I could, Abe."

Before he left the office, Longy took Daisy aside. "Help me out on this, Daisy."

"I'll try, Mr. Zwillman."

"I'm worried about him."

"Me, too."

So Daisy cleared the following Thursday, Friday and Monday, without further discussion.

Corinne called Daisy the next morning. "Whose idea is this trip to Vegas?" She didn't wait for an answer. "Longy's, am I right?"

"Corinne..." Daisy took a deep breath. "He needs to get away. He's exhausted. It's beginning to affect him at the office."

"He could go away with me."

"That would be wonderful and I'd be glad to stay with the children."

"The children," Corinne said, as if she'd just remembered. "We can't both be gone at the same time, not now."

"It's just for a long weekend," Daisy reminded her.

"Yes, a long weekend, but with Longy."

Daisy laughed. "No denying that."

Corinne sighed. "All right."

Daisy said, "If you need anything, I'll be around."

"Thank you, Daisy."

On Wednesday, after office hours, Longy picked up Dr. O in a limo heading for LaGuardia. "We'll catch some winter sun if we're lucky," Longy called to Daisy.

"Catch some for me, too." Daisy waved goodbye.

Dr. O waved back.

Miri Henry and Leah were planning their June wedding. They'd once talked about renting a big house down the sh.o.r.e, and everyone would come and stay for the weekend, but they'd changed their minds. The wedding would be smaller now, in a garden at the Hotel La Reine in Bradley Beach.

How could they be planning a wedding? Miri wondered. Because life goes on? Maybe this was true and maybe it wasn't. Life might go on but it didn't go on in the same way. It would never be the same for the Fosters. It would never be the same for the Steins. It might never be the same for Natalie. She didn't know who Natalie was anymore. She wasn't even sure about herself. Who was this girl who looked back at her from the mirror? If she'd once thought being in love could fix anything, she didn't anymore. It couldn't bring back Penny or make Betsy better.

- SHE BEGGED RUSTY to let her go to the Paper Mill Playhouse with Frekki. "What's the worst that could happen?"

Rusty didn't give her an answer. When she turned and walked out of the room without another word, Miri knew she'd won.

- AT 8:30 SAt.u.r.dAY MORNING, Mr. Roman of Mr. Roman's House of Beauty, on Elmora Avenue, circled Miri, who sat in his chair. She was about to splurge on an Elizabeth Taylor cut, shampoo and set. Rusty, a big believer in long hair, would kill her if she knew. When Rusty caught her leaving the house so early, Miri had her excuse ready. "I'm going to the library," she'd said.

"Be careful," Rusty told her.

Did that mean don't let any planes crash into you? Did it mean don't let the aliens turn you into a zombie? Or did it mean look both ways before you cross the street and don't talk to strangers?

Mr. Roman's House of Beauty was already busy, with two women under the dryers, two more getting shampooed, and a second hair-cutter at work. The manicurist was polis.h.i.+ng the nails of a lady Miri thought she recognized from the junior department at Levy Brothers.

Mr. Roman held up sections of Miri's hair. "Nice," he said. "Some natural wave, but you'll have to set the new cut in pin curls at night. Are you sure about this?" He was making Miri nervous. Was he trying to talk her out of cutting her hair? "Because once I start," he said, "there's no turning back."

"But how do you think it will look?" Miri asked, hoping for rea.s.surance.

He kissed the tips of his fingers. "Fabuloso."

Was that an Italian word? If so, did it mean what it sounded like? Either way, the decision was made. Mr. Roman picked up his scissors and, snip snip snip, the process began. Was she making a big mistake or would she leave the shop looking like Elizabeth Taylor in A Place in the Sun?

She stuffed two pieces of Fleer's Dubble Bubble into her mouth, then blew bubbles so big they burst against her cheeks, until Mr. Roman told her he found such a habit distracting and not worthy of a lovely young lady. Under the dryer she read Silver Screen and Photoplay. Ava Gardner was on the cover of both.

Two hours later she paid with her babysitting money, trying not to think about the Fosters. Would they approve of her spending the money they'd paid her for watching Penny and Betsy on a haircut, while Betsy was being treated for severe burns and Mr. and Mrs. Foster were keeping a vigil at her bedside? Was she a terrible person for thinking of how she looked when they still didn't know if Betsy would live or die?

She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror as she left the beauty parlor and at first wasn't sure who it was. She looked older, but nothing like Elizabeth Taylor. She shouldn't have let Mr. Roman use hairspray. She hated hairspray. She walked home without her hat, letting the cold winter wind whip her hair around. Before going inside she ran her fingers through it and checked herself in the mirror of her Volupte compact, a birthday present from Leah. That was better.

At home she'd have to hurry to get ready. Frekki was picking her up at 11:30. She prayed Rusty wouldn't hear her come in-anything to avoid an argument today. It was laundry day, vacuuming day-Miri was responsible for her room, which she'd cleaned last night.

But just as she opened the front door Rusty was coming up from the bas.e.m.e.nt with the laundry basket. Miri braced for the worst.

"Cute," Rusty said, barely looking at her, which threw Miri for a loop. This was so unlike the reaction she'd expected, it worried her.

When she was almost ready, in her cashmere sweater and pencil skirt, Rusty brought her the strand of pearls her parents had given her on her sixteenth birthday. Pearls, even though Rusty's father had lost his business and was working behind the counter for next to nothing at his friend's bakery. Miri knew about the pearls, but until now, Rusty had never offered to let Miri wear them, and Miri had never asked.

Today, Miri thought, Rusty was trying to send Frekki a message. See how well I've managed without any of you? See the daughter I raised without your help, in her cashmere sweater and expensive pearls?

"Be yourself," Rusty said, giving her an extra long hug.

Miri understood. Make me proud. This woman with the yellow Cadillac is nothing. She's no better than us. Remember that.

- INSIDE, the yellow Cadillac smelled of leather, like new shoes. Miri had never been in a Cadillac. Even the Osners didn't drive a Cadillac. Not that Corinne didn't want one, but Dr. O had a patient with an Oldsmobile dealers.h.i.+p who gave him a good deal, so that was that.

On the drive to Millburn, Frekki chatted about the play they were going to see, an operetta, The Desert Song. She sang a few bars to Miri. "Blue heaven and you and I..." Her voice was low and smoky. On key. "I love musicals," she told Miri. Frekki might be a regular aunt taking her niece out for the day. Miri pretended that's what they were. She worried at first about what she would talk about with Frekki, this aunt she didn't know she had until recently, this aunt whose brother was Mike Monsky, the same Mike Monsky who was her father. Her father. It struck her as such a strange idea she wanted to laugh. And maybe she did, because Frekki looked over at her and Miri pretended the sound was a hiccup. Frekki didn't say anything about the latest plane crash. It felt good not to talk about it. But it made Miri wonder if people in other towns thought of it at all.

The restaurant across the parking lot from the playhouse had once been a real carriage house. You could still see the stable doors. Inside it was fancy, like Charleston Gardens at B. Altman and Company, where she'd gone last year with Corinne and Natalie. The same white tablecloths and a small flower in a gla.s.s vase on each table, lace at the windows. A slice of lemon floated in her water gla.s.s. At first Miri thought it was a mistake but then she noticed lemon slices floating in everyone's water gla.s.s. She saw just one man in the restaurant, seated at a table with an elderly woman who looked like she could be his mother. At every other table were mothers and daughters, aunts and nieces, grandmothers and grandchildren. A few of the grandchildren were small boys, fidgeting in their best clothes. All the little girls wore party dresses. At a large table in the corner a group of teenage girls were celebrating someone's birthday.

A waitress dressed in black with a white ap.r.o.n handed Miri a menu.

CREAMED CHICKEN ON TOAST POINTS WITH b.u.t.tERED PEAS.

PORK CHOP WITH CREAMED MUSHROOM SAUCE.

CHOPPED STEAK WITH CREAMY MUSHROOM SAUCE.

TUNA Ca.s.sEROLE WITH CREAMED CORN.

Everything was creamy. Ugh! She hated creamy sauces. At the very bottom was a children's menu.

SPAGHETTI WITH b.u.t.tER.

GRILLED CHEESE.