Ibrahim was delighted. “You’re so smart, Gus. That’s right. He took his wife to his business meetings now and could explain her presence there when he said he would be taking notes on her during the meeting. If nobody believed him, he would just show them how it worked. She became his paper.”
A moment later Ib was called to the phone and got up from the table, leaving the rest of us to look at each other in the wake of this story. Gus spoke first.
“Sometimes I genuinely think he believes them.”
Lily waved him off. “Oh, he does not. He’s just being entertaining.”
“But they all have some kind of point, don’t they? They’re not just Arabian Nights.” Sullivan Band spoke. “What was that one about?” She was due to go on duty in a few minutes. “Sometimes I use his stories in our drama group. As exercises. The only thing I got from this was women are weak and’ll do anything to be by their men. Sexist!”
“It’s not about weak women, it’s about transformation. What happens to us, or what we are willing to do for the people we love.”
“That’s right, Max.”
“I agree.”
Sullivan held up both hands. “I think you’re wrong, but c’est la vie. I have to go be a waitress.” She stood and walked to the kitchen, passing Ibrahim on the way. They spoke for a moment, then continued in their different directions. When he got to the table, he grinned at me.
“You think my uncle’s story’s about love, Max?”
“Whatever it’s about, I liked it. Would you mind if I used some of it in ‘Paper Clip’?”
“No, that would be an honor. Does everybody have enough to eat? Yes? Because I’m sorry but Gus, Lily, and I have to go and talk to a man about salmon. Come, partners, the salmon man is waiting.”
The three of them walked out together, leaving Alberta Band and me at the table. Lunch for employees at Crowds and Power was a full-blown affair, starting around eleven and continuing for the most part until they were done and not when the doors opened for the day to the public. I loved eating with them, listening to their stories, offering some of my own. The restaurant was a United Nations, a hotel lobby of comings and goings, greetings and goodbyes. The food was good, the people who prepared and presented it intriguing.
“Max, can I ask a favor?”
“Sure.”
“I never told you, but I’m a really big fan of your comic strip. Could you draw me a little sketch of the two guys in it? Nothing elaborate or involved. I’d love to frame it and put it on the wall of my apartment.”
“Alberta, I’d love to. Do you want it drawn on something special?”
“No, anything would be great.”
“I’ve got a nice sketchpad in the car. Let me go get it and I’ll do one in there. But stick around—I’ve got an idea and need you here to do it.”
When I returned, she had combed her hair and freshened her lipstick.
“Okay, sit right where you are. I need you for about ten minutes.”
Alberta is a good-looking woman, so it was a pleasure to use her as a model.
“What’re you doing?”
“Keep your pants on. You’ll see when I’m finished. Turn your head a little to the left. Yeah! Like that. Stay still.”
We chatted while I drew and she gave up trying to guess what I was doing.
“Alberta, tell me about Lily. Whatever comes to your mind. I always like to hear what other people have to say about her.”
Rather than ask what I meant, she folded her hands in her lap and looked into the near distance.
“She was the one who hired us, you know. Sullivan and I’d been working at this dreary deli up on the Strip. The boss pinched our asses too many times, so we hauled freight out of there. Not many places hire two people at a time, and you’d be surprised at how biased they are against hiring sisters. Like the two of you’re in cahoots and’ll steal ‘em blind. Anyway, we heard there might be something here and we came down for an interview. First thing I saw when I came in the door was Mabdean, who’d just cut off all his hair and looked like a big black genie in a bottle. I turned to my sister and said, ‘I’ll wash floors for this place if he works here.’ Gus came around but wouldn’t deign to talk to us, Ibrahim was out, and we waited around till finally Lily asked if she could help us. We thought she owned the place, judging by the way people kowtowed to her. I don’t think we talked ten minutes before she gave us both jobs and then a week later Mabdean and I moved in together.
“What do I think of her, aside from the fact the woman turned my life around so I was finally happy for the first time in years? I think she’s solid and really caring. But I’ll tell you something. The moment you asked me that question, this one funny thing came to me immediately. You know how she likes biographies? Always reading about someone’s life, but it’s never really one kind of person or another. Composers, businessmen, Hitler… I guess she just likes knowing how other people lived, huh? Anyway, once she was reading the autobiography of John Huston, the director. I asked if I could borrow it when she was done. When she gave it to me, there was one thing marked. Love her as I do, I think she’s extremely anal retentive about her books, because every one I’ve borrowed is in perfect condition, no matter if they’re hardcover or paperback. All my books are very well lived in, you could say. But she lent me this Huston autobiography and inside there was a passage tipped with one of those orange markers kids use in school. I was so shocked to see it. That’s all—just that one the whole three or four hundred pages, but I remember it because I’d never seen it done in any of her books. It said, ‘I’ve had nine lives so far, and I regret every one of them.’ ”
I had to will my head to stay down and my hand to keep drawing. “What was it again?”
“’I’ve had nine lives so far, and I regret every one of them.’ I mean, that does not sound like Lily Aaron to me. To tell you the truth, I think she can be a little screechy sometimes, and a bit tight-lipped, but in toto she has it together. A hell of a lot more than me, that’s for sure. I mean, a nice son, a semi-famous boyfriend… Hey, am I ever going to get to see your picture?”
I turned the pad around and handed it to her. Across the top was written: “Alberta and the Band.” I’d drawn her and my characters holding hands, taking a bow, as if after a performance.
“Max, that’s fabulous! Thank you.”
She pulled it carefully off the pad and kissed my cheek. “I know exactly where I’m going to put it. I’ll tell you one last thing about Lily. A few months before she met you, there were a couple of actors in here one night making trouble. They were drunk and got ugly-rowdy. Mabdean usually takes care of things like that, but it was his day off. First Ib, then Gus tried to talk them down, but these assholes were out of control. This was their party and they were goin’ to do it their way, fuck you very much. Things started getting out of hand and someone said maybe we should call the cops. But Lily said no. She reached into her purse, pulled out this little black gadget that looked like a light meter, and went over to them. Without saying a word, she touched one, then the other on the arm and these guys flipped off their barstools onto the floor like they’d been shot. Neither moved, and the whole place got real quiet real fast. Lily stood there like Madame Gunslinger and put the black thing back in her bag. The only comment she made was: ‘They’ll come around in a few minutes.’ She had one of those totally illegal cattle prod things you use against muggers. The kind that shoot out five trillion volts into whoever’s trying to jump you. ZAP and ZAP—on the floor like dead meat. That took balls! I don’t know if I’d have the nerve to use one. I’ve heard they can cause some serious permanent damage if you do it wrong or touch a guy in the wrong place. But your girlfriend didn’t hesitate a second. These guys crossed the line and she zapped them. ZZZZZ. You should have heard the sound. Like this high cracking. Phew. It still gives me the shivers.”
“What happened to the men?”
“Nothing. We carted them into the kitchen until they came to and then they took off. No one ever told them what happened either. They had absolutely no idea what hit ‘em.”