Emmet shot straight up. His body was like an 'L'. His legs were under his covers and his torso was perpendicular to the mattress. There was sweat dripping down his brow and his arms. He never screamed when he had a nightmare. And he hadn't had a nightmare. In fact he hadn't been dreaming at all.
It was just that something from yesterday's, he looked down at his alarm clock and saw that it was 2:23 AM, yes, yesterday's orange juice gathering had hit him like a ton of bricks.
He went over Richard's words in his head, 'I could rub the peel and wear it away, but by the time I got to the fruit it would have rotted and putrefied. I could rip ferociously at the peel, but I would only damage the fruit and be sprayed in the eye. Or I can be gentle in the peeling and get to the fruit with no damage to myself or my wife.'
Emmet started muttering to himself, "An orange, he talks about oranges. He wants to peel an orange. And we toasted to it over orange juice. And then the subversion thing it doesn't make sense."
He was resisting the urge, but all of that literature analysis he did in college was worming its way into his head again. He, Richard calls his wife an orange and they all agree to peel her over a glass of orange juice, a product which results from pulverizing oranges. And the orange juice was so pulpy too.
BREAK
Emmet rang his neighbors at 9:15.
"The Boo-kay Residence, the lady of the house speaking." Her voice was normal, and he was glad of that.
"Oh, hello Hyacinth." He struggled to inject 'joy' into his voice.
"Oh, Emmet, I am glad you called. Richard, of late, has been quite insufferable." She, the woman who probably placed a hat on her head to answer the telephone said, with a tone and sigh that came off to Emmet as genuine. "Will you come over for coffee."
"You beat me to it, Hyacinth, dammit," he feigned disappointment.
"What's that dear?"
"I wanted to invite Richard and yourself over for lunch and drinks this afternoon. I even have some sheet music ready for a… shall I say, concert of your talents."
"Ooh, I shall be there, I'll go and tell Richard now. He'll be so thrilled. You do know how he loves my voice."
"We all you're your voice, Mrs. Bouquet. In fact we all love you, Mrs. Bouquet."
"So, I shall be there." She sounded like a schoolgirl excited for a field trip.
"Swing by at 12:30 for some steak, salad, sherry, and song."
"I'll bring a cake for something sweet to supplement your steak, sherry and song."
Emmet mouthed the words, 'kill me' before he spoke at full volume into the phone, "Alright see you soon."
He placed the phone back onto its receiver.
Presently, Elizabeth walked into the room coffee and newspaper, in hand. Her pen for the crossword puzzle was in its usual place on the table beside her favorite chair. She approached her chair, sat, put her spectacles on and opened to page 44. She grabbed her black ink pen and started as she always did 1:ACROSS, The clue: Four letters, opposite of good, 2:ACROSS Three letters: Present tense of ate, 4: ACROSS Seven Letters: Sweet citrus. As she thought of the answers, she, without looking up, spoke.
"Who was that on the telephone?" Her voice sounded a casual interest.
"Hyacinth," Her brother said flatly.
"You have been summoned to coffee, haven't you?" There was a snicker in her little question. She wrote in a couple of the answers.
"On the contrary sweet sister of mine, she has been so seriously summoned for steak, sherry and song."
"What?"
"Who's smiling now?" Emmet asked.
"Wait, wait, wait," Liz stammered as she shifted her paper away form her, "Song? You don't mean?" She was gasping a bit.
"Yes, I do mean."
"She'll sing at you!" Elizabeth pointed out in a complete reversal of concern. She wrote in the third answer.
"Yes she will." He said, resolute.
"Well you have fun cooking that," she jeered (in a loving way, of course) to her brother, "I have to pick something to wear."
She rested the paper on the table with her pen and reading spectacles. Emmet rose from his seat intent on marinating the steak he had in the fridge. He stopped by Liz's chair and glanced at the newspaper. He took notice of the three words Liz had filled in before departing.
EVIL
EATS
ORANGES
BREAK
Hyacinth crossed the threshold into Elizabeth's home, a perfect picture of spring. Her dress was green like emeralds and had a floral print of white daisies and vibrant golden daffodils. She wore a grand white hat that complemented her hair.
Richard wore a black suit, white shirt, red tie, and his usual black shoes.
Emmet had anticipated the formality and dressed accordingly in a white shirt and gray slacks.
Liz was putting on her tan two-piece.
"What is that delicious smell?" Hyacinth asked taking a seat.
"I figured," Emmet started preening like a peacock, "that when you have such a high caliber of person to your home, you ought to put some effort into cooking. You know, hâute cuisine, so I thought that I might as well coat the steak in pâté and wrap it in puff pastry and stick it in the oven."
"Ooh, Beef Wellington is my favorite. You do awesome things for little old me." She said, thoroughly exercising her restraint by not jumping up and down.
"Anything for our lovely songstress." Emmet's voice could scarcely be called genuine, though sweet enough to fool Hyacinth.
"This is really too much Emmet," She said, sounding grateful.
"Yes, Emmet. It really is." Richard added.
"Well, I said to myself that since you're kind enough to have all of those 'delightful' candlelight suppers I need to, at least in small part, return the favor. And besides, you're not eating for free by any means. You're voice is your payment." Emmet managed to say with forced sincerity.
"Then I shall pay in full." She declared, sitting down.
"What about a gratuity?" He asked more to himself sardonically.
She heard him, but not his tone, and said, "That depends on the beef. Where is the beef?"
PING. The timer had gone off.
Emmet left wordlessly to remove the food from the oven.
Richard took a seat next to his wife on the big comfy couch. Liz entered to see them seated. She played perfect hostess. "Hello Hyacinth, Richard. Will you have some drinks?"
"I really shouldn't." Richard said.
"You don't have to drive home," Liz jested.
"You're right," he said, "I'll have a gin and tonic, if it's not too much trouble."
"That's what I was going to have myself. How about you Hyacinth?"
"Sherry is fine."
"Alright, one sherry and two tonics.*" She chuckled a little but she didn't know exactly why. Richard laughed too.
"What's so funny about that? Two tonics with some gin. I hope it's not some of that council-housing humor." Hyacinth nearly shouted, indignant.
Liz left to make the drinks.
Emmet reappeared, "While that cools down for a bit, could we get a song?" He made his move towards the piano
"Of course," she followed him.
He sat and handed her a copy of some sheet music, "This is some music that I composed for my amateur operatic group and you'll be the first to sing it. The theme is existentialism"
"Ooh"
He started to play. It was slow and sounded depressing.
She read along and started to sing when it was time in a way that made the windows vibrate,
"Strange things said
Bad things done
A life wasted, dead
Words misplaced
A sheet of paper with bad words disgrace
Invective
Suggestive
Words meant not said
Written down on a dead tree
Those word were never meant to
Be
Seen."
He stopped playing and spoke, "That's how it starts."
Hyacinth, "That was so sad. A letter never meant to be sent, a letter of invective. I wonder who was being inveighed against. Who's the inveigher?"
Richard's chin could have dropped to the floor.
Elizabeth who had entered the room mid-song with the drinks remained bent over her table. She was frozen. Liz was mouthing the words to God, "Please don't let her put that together."
"You know." Hyacinth's aloof voice broke the tension, "I think I'll go and freshen up." She walked out of the room and made her way to Liz's bathroom."
The three people remainder in the room all glanced nervously at each other.
"What the hell was that Emmet?" Elizabeth asked in a hushed voice, "What are you playing at?"
"Yes, please explain." Richard whispered.
"This whole thing is wrong." Emmet started. "It's not right. Manipulating her mind in this way is sick. You wrote that letter," he looked at his sister, "It disappeared, and yet you want to change her. She may be terrible, but this is worse."
"Aah," Elizabeth used some sarcasm that not even she knew was inside of her, "Now it's wrong." Her voice grew harsh, but still hushed, "Yesterday, you were sitting at that table laughing and joking and now it's wrong. You are a contrarian."
"Well if that's what I am, that's what I am."
Richard chimed in, "You're sabotaging my whole operation."
"Right there," Emmet emphasized in a quiet voice, "Right there. This is not a war. There are no operations here. This is a marriage, not a battlefield."
"I am merely a doctor operating on my life. That's all." Richard said.
Hyacinth walked back in, "I believe that I am ready for the next song maestro, unless that Beef has cooled off."
END PART ONE
*Two tonics= Teutonic, a fancy word for German.