sk.everythingseventual-第65部分

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t　was　told　to　me　and　what　I　now　tell　to　you：　a　broken　spoon　may　be　a　fork　in　disguise。　All　my　love；　Lulubelle　Simms。〃　'
　　L。T。　would　pause　there；　letting　them　digest　the　fact　that　she　had　gone　back　to　her　maiden　name；　and　giving　his　eyes　a　few　of　those　patented　L。T。　DeWitt　rolls。　Then　he'd　tell　them　the　P。S。　she'd　tacked　on　the　note。
　　'　〃I　have　taken　Frank　with　me　and　left　Screwlucy　for　you。　I　thought　this　would　probably　be　the　way　you'd　want　it。　Love；　Lulu。〃　'
　　If　the　DeWitt　family　was　a　fork；　Screwlucy　and　Frank　were　the　other　two　tines　on　it。　If　there　wasn't　a　fork　（and　speaking　for　myself；　I've　always　felt　marriage　was　more　like　a　knife…the　dangerous　kind　with　two　sharp　edges）；　Screwlucy　and　Frank　could　still　be　said　to　sum　up　everything　that　went　wrong　in　the　marriage　of　L。T。　and　Lulubelle。　Because；　think　of　it…although　Lulubelle　bought　Frank　for　L。T。　（first　wedding　anniversary）　and　L。T。　bought　Lucy；　soon　to　be　Screwlucy；　for　Lulubelle　（second　wedding　anniversary）；　they　each　wound　up　with　the　other　one's　pets　when　Lulu　walked　out　on　the　marriage。
　　'She　got　me　that　dog　because　I　liked　the　one　on　Frasier；'　L。T。　would　say。　'That　kind　of　dog's　a　terrier；　but　I　don't　remember　now　what　they　call　that　kind。　A　Jack　something。　Jack　Sprat？　Jack　Robinson？　Jack　Shit？　You　know　how　a　thing　like　that　gets　on　the　tip　of　your　tongue？'
　　Somebody　would　tell　him　that　the　dog　on　Frasier　was　a　Jack　Russell　terrier　and　L。T。　would　nod　emphatically。
　　'That's　right！'　he'd　exclaim。　'Sure！　Exactly！　That's　what　Frank　was；　all　right；　a　Jack　Russell　terrier。　But　you　want　to　know　the　cold　hard　truth？　An　hour　from　now；　that　will　have　slipped　away　from　me　again…it'll　be　there　in　my　brain；　but　like　something　behind　a　rock。　An　hour　from　now；　I'll　be　going　to　myself；　〃What　did　that　guy　say　Frank　was？　A　Jack　Handle　terrier？　A　Jack　Rabbit　terrier？　That's　close；　I　know　that's　close　。　。　。　〃　And　so　on。　Why？　I　think　because　I　just　hated　that　little　fuck　so　much。　That　barking　rat。　That　fur…covered　shit　machine。　I　hated　it　from　the　first　time　I　laid　eyes　on　it。　There。　It's　out　and　I'm　glad。　And　do　you　know　what？　Frank　felt　the　same　about　me。　It　was　hate　at　first　sight。
　　'You　know　how　some　men　train　their　dog　to　bring　them　their　slippers？　Frank　wouldn't　bring　me　my　slippers；　but　he'd　puke　in　them。　Yes。　The　first　time　he　did　it；　I　stuck　my　right　foot　right　into　it。　It　was　like　sticking　your　foot　into　warm　tapioca　with　extra　big　lumps　in　it。　Although　I　didn't　see　him；　my　theory　is　that　he　waited　outside　the　bedroom　door　until　he　saw　me　ing…fucking　lurked　outside　the　bedroom　door…then　went　in；　unloaded　in　my　right　slipper；　then　hid　under　the　bed　to　watch　the　fun。　I　deduce　that　on　the　basis　of　how　it　was　still　warm。　Fucking　dog。　Man's　best　friend；　my　ass。　I　wanted　to　take　it　to　the　pound　after　that；　had　the　leash　out　and　everything；　but　Lulu　threw　an　absolute　shit　fit。　You　would　have　thought　she'd　e　into　the　kitchen　and　caught　me　trying　to　give　the　dog　a　drain…cleaner　enema。
　　'　〃If　you　take　Frank　to　the　pound；　you　might　as　well　take　me　to　the　pound；〃　she　says；　starting　to　cry。　〃That's　all　you　think　of　him；　and　that's　all　you　think　of　me。　Honey；　all　we　are　to　you　is　nuisances　you'd　like　to　be　rid　of。　That's　the　cold　hard　truth。〃　I　mean；　oh　my　bleeding　piles；　on　and　on。
　　'　〃He　puked　in　my　slipper；〃　I　says。
　　'　〃The　dog　puked　in　his　slipper　so　off　with　his　head；〃　she　says。　〃Oh；　sugarpie；　if　only　you　could　hear　yourself！〃
　　'　〃Hey；〃　I　say；　〃you　try　sticking　your　bare　foot　into　a　slipper　filled　with　dog　puke　and　see　how　you　like　it。〃　Getting　mad　by　then；　you　know。
　　'Except　getting　mad　at　Lulu　never　did　any　good。　Most　times；　if　you　had　the　king；　she　had　the　ace。　If　you　had　the　ace；　she　had　a　trump。　Also；　the　woman　would　fucking　escalate。　If　something　happened　and　I　got　irritated；　she'd　get　pissed。　If　I　got　pissed；　she'd　get　mad。　If　I　got　mad；　she'd　go　fucking　Red　Alert　Defcon　I　and　empty　the　missile　silos。　I'm　talking　scorched　flicking　earth。　Mostly　it　wasn't　worth　it。　Except　almost　every　time　we'd　get　into　a　fight；　I'd　forget　that。
　　'She　goes；　〃Oh　dear。　Maple　duff　stuck　his　wittle　footie　in　a　wittle　spit…up。〃　I　tried　to　get　in　there；　tell　her　that　wasn't　right；　spit…up　is　like　drool；　spit…up　doesn't　have　these　big　flicking　chunks　in　it；　but　she　won't　let　me　get　a　word　out。　By　then　she's　over　in　the　passing　lane　and　cruising；　all　pumped　up　and　ready　to　teach　school。
　　'　〃Let　me　tell　you　something；　honey；〃　she　goes；　〃a　little　drool　in　your　slipper　is　very　minor　stuff。　You　men　slay　me。　Try　being　a　woman　sometimes；　okay？　Try　always　being　the　one　that　ends　up　laying　with　the　small　of　your　back　in　that　e…spot；　or　the　one　that　goes　to　the　toilet　in　the　middle　of　the　night　and　the　guy's　left　the　goddam　ring　up　and　you　splash　your　can　right　down　into　this　cold　water。　Little　midnight　skindiving。　The　toilet　probably　hasn't　been　flushed；　either；　men　think　the　Urine　Fairy　es　by　around　two　a。m。　and　takes　care　of　that；　and　there　you　are；　sitting　crack…deep　in　piss；　and　all　at　once　you　realize　your　feet're　in　it；　too；　you're　paddling　around　in　Lemon　Squirt　because；　although　guys　think　they're　dead…eye　Dick　with　that　thing；　most　can't　shoot　for　shit；　drunk　or　sober　they　gotta　wash　the　goddam　floor　all　around　the　toilet　before　they　can　even　start　the　main　event。　All　my　life　I've　been　living　with　this；　honey…a　father；　four　brothers；　one　ex…husband；　plus　a　few　roommates　that　are　none　of　your　business　at　this　late　date…and　you're　ready　to　send　poor　Frank　off　to　the　gas　factory　because　just　one　time　he　happened　to　reflux　a　little　drool　into　your　slipper。〃
　　'　〃My　fur…lined　slipper；〃　I　tell　her；　but　it's　just　a　little　shot　back　over　my　shoulder。　One　thing　about　living　with　Lulu；　and　maybe　to　my　credit；　I　always　knew　when　I　was　beat。　When　I　lost；　it　was　fucking　decisive。　One　thing　I　certainly　wasn't　going　to　tell　her　even　though　I　knew　it　for　a　fact　was　that　the　dog　puked　in　my　slipper　on　purpose；　the　same　way　that　he　peed　on　my　underwear　on　purpose　if　I　forgot　to　put　it　in　the　hamper　before　I　went　off　to　work。　She　could　leave　her　bras　and　pants　scattered　around　from　hell　to　Harvard…and　did…but　if　I　left　so　much　as　a　pair　of　athletic　socks　in　the　corner；　I'd　e　home　and　find　that　fucking　Jack　Shit　terrier　had　given　it　a　lemonade　shower。　But　tell　her　that？　She　would　have　been　booking　me　time　with　a　psychiatrist。　She　would　have　been　doing　that　even　though　she　knew　it　was　true。　Because　then　she　might　have　had　to　take　the　stuff　I　was　saying　seriously；　and　she　didn't　want　to。　She　loved　Frank；　you　see；　and　Frank　loved　her。　They　were　like　Romeo　and　Juliet　or　Rocky　and　Adrian。
　　'Frank　would　e　to　her　chair　while　we　were　watching　TV；　lie　down　on　the　floor　beside　her；　and　put　his　muzzle　on　her　shoe。　Just　lie　there　like　that　all　night；　looking　up　at　her；　all　soulful　and　loving　and　with　his　butt　pointed　in　my　direction　so　if　he　should　have　to　blow　a　little　gas；　I'd　get　the　full　benefit　of　it。　He　loved　her　and　she　loved　him。　Why？　Christ　knows。　Love's　a　mystery　to　everyone　except　the　poets；　I　guess；　and　nobody　sane　can　understand　a　thing　they　write　about　it。　I　don't　think　most　of　them　can　understand　it　themselves　on　the　rare　occasions　when　they　wake　up　and　smell　the　coffee。
　　'But　Lulubelle　never　gave　me　that　dog　so　she　could　have　it；　let's　get　that　one　thing　straight。　I　know　that　some　people　do　stuff　like　that…a　guy'll　give　his　wife　a　trip　to　Miami　because　he　wants　to　go　there；　or　a　wife'll　give　her　husband　a　NordicTrack　because　she　thinks　he　ought　to　do　something　about　his　gut…but　this　wasn't　that　kind　of　deal。　We　were　crazy　in　love　with　each　other　at　the　beginning；　I　know　I　was　with　her；　and　I'd　stake　my　life　she　was　with　me。　No；　she　bought　that　dog　for　me　because　I　always　laughed　so　hard　at　the　one　on　Frasier。　She　wanted　to　make　me　happy；　that's　all。　She　didn't　know　Frank　was　going　to　take　a　shine　to　her；　or　her　to　him；　no　more　than　she　knew　the　dog　was　going　to　dislike　me　so　much　that　throwing　up　in　one　of　my　slippers　or　chewing　the　bottoms　of　the　curtains　on　my　side　of　the　bed　would　be　the　high　point　of　his　day。'
　　L。T。　would　look　around　at　the　grinning　men；　not　grinning　himself；　but　he'd　give　his　eyes　that　knowing；　long…suffering　roll；　and　they'd　laugh