"Merlin, what do your folks think about your involvement in politics?" asked Ronnie. "I mean, are they going to make you cut back on your time when school starts?"
Merlin glanced at Ronnie, then back at Arthur. "Oh. That's right. We haven't told him, have we?"
Ronnie glanced around curiously. "Told me what?"
"About Merlin," said Arthur. "He's lived-"
"Alone," said Merlin quickly, shooting a poisonous look at Arthur. "Alone, for quite some time."
"Really? Merlin, do the authorities know?"
"Not if we don't tell them. Right, Ronnie?"
Ronnie looked at Arthur in confusion. "Arthur, are you sure we should have . . . well, a minor, as a part of this campaign?"
"I'd be lost without him," said Arthur simply.
"Besides, don't get yourself in an uproar, Ronnie," said Merlin. "I'm living with someone now. Percy's moved in with me."
"What, there's room in your apartment?"
"Apartment? Oh, no. I have a house out on the Island. I commute."
"Oh," said Ronnie, nodding in understanding. "Long Island?"
"No. Bermuda."
Percy walked in carrying a small brown bag. "Morning, everyone." He cocked his head.
"Ronnie, man, you okay? You look pale."
"Me? Naaah," said Ronnie. "Merlin, he was just kidding around with me, that's all."
"Oh, I see. You know, Ronnie, you've been workin' real hard. You should come out to Bermuda. Get some rest."
Ronnie nodded slowly, then leaned over the agenda for the day. "Ooookay. Arthur, most of this stuff is routine. You've got a women's group in the morning, senior citizens lunch, a citizen's watch group in the early afternoon, and then you're meeting with a group of Jewish community leaders in late afternoon. Then we've got the fund-raiser tonight-"
"Oh, right! I'm very upset about that, and I'm not going."
Merlin turned in surprise. "What are you talking about? Our money is starting to run low . . .
you have to get more for your campaign fund. I can't continue to be the main funder for this race...."
"There he goes again," said Ronnie. "Where did you get the money to back Arthur, eh, Merlin?"
"Stock market investments. I bought into IBM and Xerox back when they were still using abacuses and carbon paper, respectively. But Arthur, I don't understand. Why-"
"There are limits as to what I will do, Merlin. Gwen told me about this dinner tonight. She said I'd have to wear a monkey suit. Now if you think for one minute I'm going to dress like an ape simply to get votes, then, my little wizard, you have quite another think coming."
He sat there, arms folded resolutely, eyes smoldering. Ronnie and Percy looked at each other, trying not to snicker. Merlin rubbed the bridge of his nose with his fingers.
"Someone is going to have to talk to you, long and hard, about slang," he said.
* * *
The banquet hall was filled with men and women dressed formally, seated at large round tables, finishing their Chicken Kiev and assorted vegetables. And although the conversation at the tables was lively, attention kept returning to the long dais at the front of the room.
There were seated Arthur, Gwen, Percy, and several known and respected celebrities in New York. For all of them it was their first lengthy meeting, and they found themselves, as always, charmed by Arthur's openness and frank manner of discussing issues.
Merlin was seated at a table close to the front. Arthur had wanted him to be at the dais but Merlin had deferred, observing that they didn't want or need endless speculation as to who the young boy seated with all the dignitaries was.
Seated in the middle was a former head of the United Nations General Assembly--a distinguished looking man who now stood and rapped his fork briskly on the side of his glass. Slowly, conversation throughout the room quieted. In the back of the room TV news cameras focussed.
"Ladies and gentlemen, I thank you all for coming this evening," he said. "I hope that you all enjoyed your dinners- usually these things seem to have meals made from Styrofoam."
There was agreeing laughter. "However, trust to our host to be more concerned about the welfare of his patrons than that. As have many of you, I have been fascinated by Mr. Penn's rapid rise to the public awareness in the past months. As have you, I have found myself impressed by his straightforward thinking, his unflinching addressing of any problem. While other politicians seem to delight in straddling both sides of the fence, Arthur Penn is unafraid to speak his mind. To those people who agree with him, he is a sound ally. To those who disagree with him-well they respect him nevertheless and know, at least, that if Arthur Penn tells them something, it comes from the heart, and it's not going to be changed to cater to whims or political expediencies.
"Let me give you a little background on the Independent candidate for mayor of New York City..."
As he spoke, the waiters in the room, who had been scattered at random points throughout, slowly began to work their way forward. No one noticed it. Who pays attention to the movements of waiters?
Merlin felt a faint warning. He wasn't sure what it was- some bothersome feeling in the back of his head, like an angry gnat, letting him know that something was not quite right.
He looked around his table. The eleven other people seated with him seemed harmless enough, attentive enough. He looked at the other tables, but saw no cause there for alarm.
So what was it? Where was it?
I have not, thought Merlin, lived this long without learning to trust to my instincts.
A movement caught the corner of his eye. One of the waiters had an odd look on his face, a look of great intentness. Merlin pursed his lips. He looked around and saw a half dozen other waiters, all with the same determined expression. No, something was definitely not right.
Merlin quietly slid the ashtray off the table. Miraculously, no one had smoked at his table-the glass of the ashtray was clear. Merlin reached into the pocket of his black jacket-his monkey-suit jacket, he thought grimly-and pulled out a small flask with blue liquid inside.
With one small hand he uncorked it and poured the liquid into the ashtray. It spread rapidly, like a thing alive, coating the surface with blue. Moments later he held the ashtray up to his eye, peering through the blue filter of the liquid.
He gasped as he looked at the waiter nearby.
"And so, ladies and gentlemen, I give to you, Arthur Penn!"
Merlin's head snapped around. Arthur had risen behind the dais and was smiling out at this supporters. Merlin started to stand, to jump and shout to Arthur exactly what was surrounding them. Then he slowly sat again, unsure of how to warn Arthur without setting off a general panic. Or how not to sound insane.
Arthur leaned forward and said, "My friends..."
There was a low moan from his left. He looked around just in time to see Gwen, hand on forehead, eyes closed in a swoon, topple over backward.
"Gwen!" he shouted, and immediately moved to her. At the end of the table a noted attorney asked loudly, "Is there a doctor here?"
Eighteen doctors glanced at their watches and wondered if this might be a good time to leave.
Arthur knelt at Gwen's side, having already dabbed a napkin into a glass of ice water. He dabbed it across her face, saying urgently, "Gwen? Gwen, what's wrong?"
She opened her eyes. He saw no illness in them. Only fear.
"Gwen, what-"
There was a sudden tug at his hip.
He looked around to see a waiter behind him. The man's face was narrow, almost satanic, as with a fierce certainty he grabbed the invisible scabbard that hung at Arthur's side and yanked. There was a rip as the scabbard came free and the waiter leaped back, the invisible prize in his hands.