Michelangelo's Shoulder Part 7

"I saw you once--driving by with one of my students."

"Pookie," Penn said. "I should have gotten in touch, but I thought you'd disapprove."

"She wasn't the brightest," Arthur said. "Attractive, though."

"Pookie could drink! Loved to swim, good dancer. How's _your_ love life? Any little Arthurs around?"

"No."

"Me neither. I did have some step-kids for a while." Penn's expression lifted. "That was a good thing."

"When was that?"

"Let's see--about four years ago, now."

"Where are they?"

"Oakland. Sergio, Consuela, and Esperanza. What a crew."

"And their mother?"

"Gorgeous. Constanza. I met her on a bus in Guayaquil."

"Guayaquil?"

"I was just back from the Galapagos. Remember, we talked about going there sometime."

"Blue-footed b.o.o.bys," Arthur said.

"Exactly," Penn said. "And the tortoises. Amazing! I was in the money.

I took a couple of months to go down and check out some of the places we lived when I was a kid. My Spanish came back. Had a good time.

Anyway, I was on a city bus when Constanza got on with the kids. The bus was full, so I gave her my seat. The kids were crawling all over her. She had that long black hair, you know, red cheeks, bright eyes, one of those solid bodies for the ages--we started joking around, made a date to meet at a park the next day. Have you been there?"

"Never have."

"You can imagine--hot, steamy, crowded, flowers everywhere. We had fun, the five of us. She turned out to be smart, full of life. She'd just come from Quito and was trying to find work and a place to live. She was staying with a cousin and running out of money."

"The father was in Quito?"

"Yes. A h.e.l.l of a thing. He was from a family that had been there for centuries. I guess he and Constanza got into it when they were very young. The family allowed her to stay on one of their properties, paid all the bills. She kept having babies. The situation changed, and she was let go. I don't know whether the guy was tired of her or whether he married or took a position in the family empire that wouldn't allow the arrangement or what."

"Terrible," Arthur said.

"Constanza was sad, but she wasn't bitter. She loved him. She was from a poor family, and she had a good life for a while--that's how she looked at it. When she told me the story I thought, for once in your life, be useful. I married her. In a couple of months we were all set up in California, kids in school learning English, the whole trip."

"Incredible," Arthur said.

"It was fine for a few years. Then I got restless. The kids kept us going, but the relations.h.i.+p was out of gas. I didn't know what to do. I had cash flow problems. But I got lucky and made a good call in the market. I figured I'd better change things while I could, so I told Constanza that we were going to take a vacation in Quito. Took her and the kids, and, as soon as we got there, I explained that I had to leave the marriage. I gave her all the money I had, enough to buy her a house and get her started. You know what she said? 'No way! We're going back to California.' She took the money, and two weeks later she and the kids were back in the city. She rented a place in Oakland. Still there, I'm pretty sure."

"Are you in touch?"

"Not really. She's got a new life. It would confuse the kids. I worry about them sometimes. Not Constanza, she's strong, good looking--she'll do fine. But the kids--I used to take Esperanza to school on a bike, pulled her behind me on a little cart." He looked at Arthur and shook his head. "Maybe later on, when I get ahead a little bit."

"They're better off for what you did."

"I hope so. I guess so." He held up his gla.s.s. "Another?"

"Let's get something to eat," Arthur said. Penn pulled out his wallet.

"On me," Arthur said.

"Good man. You got something to write on?" He took a worn business card from his wallet and copied into Arthur's notebook an address written on the back of the card. And the names: Constanza, Sergio, Consuela, and Esperanza. "It's a h.e.l.l of a favor to ask," he said, but could you check up on them sometime, for me." His voice dropped. "See if they need anything?" He looked up helplessly.

"I will."

It was as close as they had come to acknowledging the bond between them. Arthur took a deep breath. "How will I reach you?"

"I'll look you up at the university--you'll be there, adding to the body of scientific knowledge."

"I suppose so," Arthur said. "Trying anyway."

"Good old Art, slow and steady wins the race."

They had a couple of steaks, split a Caesar salad, and drank wine while they talked about old times and the state of the world. Penn explained c.r.a.ps and convinced Arthur to try his luck. People who play with me get the rolls, he told Arthur. They bought two hundred dollars worth of chips. Penn insisted that Arthur place the bet, but they waited until the dice were pa.s.sed to a middle-aged blonde. "She's lucky," Penn said.

The dice skittered and rolled to a seven. Loud cheers. Arthur was forty dollars richer. They played for nearly an hour. Arthur was instructed to bet lightly unless Lucky was throwing. He was six hundred dollars ahead when the food and drink and the long day began to get to him.

"Time to turn in," he told Penn.

"Where you staying?"

"Harrah's."

"How about coffee in the morning?" They arranged to meet in the cafe at ten.

"Here," Arthur handed Penn his chips. "A stake."

"Right on. What do you say, Lucky, want to look around a little?" Lucky shrugged agreeably and Penn put his arm around her shoulders. "You get half the winnings in the morning," he said to Arthur.

"No need," Arthur said. "It's on the house."

"No, no. See you at ten." He and Lucky walked away. Penn looked back once and smiled. Same old Penn.

The night air was clear and crisp. People on the sidewalks seemed to be enjoying themselves. Arthur went to his room and fell asleep immediately, but he did not sleep well. He kept waking and seeing Penn's smile--amused, helpless, oddly gallant. He had a premonition that he might not see him again.

In the morning, Arthur waited an hour, but Penn didn't show up. He walked back to Harrah's and checked out. The desk clerk gave him five casino silver dollars--"Our way of saying thank you, Sir."

Arthur stopped at a slot machine near the exit and dropped the dollars in, pulling the long handle and waiting after each one. He looked down the rows of machines at other gamblers with their arms in the same position. Sometimes you win; mostly you lose. In the end you lose.

That's what Penn got from the place--that truth, underscored.