"They don't know! That's all. They don't know! If they did, they'd take every last kike in the country and-"
"But it has nothing to do with the Jews. Almost every man gets circumcised today. It's a health measure."
"By a doctor, yeah. And even then it's because the whole stupid medical profession's been brainwashed by the Zionist conspiracy!" Mortimer insisted.
"But the Jewish men themselves are circumcised."
"That's different. They don't do it the same way. It's some ancient heathen tribal secret, the way they do it. And it's phony. Just a little slice so they can say what you just said. So they can turn to the world and say we circumcise our male babies and it's healthy, so why shouldn't you? It's all part of the same plot."
"But if the doctors-"
"The doctors! The doctors!" Mortimer snorted impatiently. "What's that got to do with me, anyway? It was a goddamn sheenie mohel did it! And me an innocent little baby who couldn't know that butcher was robbing me of man's most precious possession. I had to get married to-"
"You're exaggerating, Mortimer. It isn't as though we never make it. It's only sometimes-"
"My parents should never have let that sheenie bastard within a mile of an infant who couldn't protect-"
"I never did understand how that came about," Olivia told him. "How did it happen that you were circumcised by a mohel instead of a doctor? After all, you're not Jewish."
"You're damn right I'm not. My blood runs pure red, white, and blue all the way back to Aaron Burr-I mean Alexander Hamilton!"
"Then how come a mohel did the operation?"
"It was an emergency. That's how come!" Mortimer recalled the circumstances through clenched teeth. "I was born just when the Birchville quacks were starting to fall for the Zionist propaganda about circumcision. They were having a hard time convincing most new parents they should do it to their male babies. But my parents were natural patsies. One other couple, too. Our doctor scheduled both circumcisions for the same day. He did the other poor bastard first. Right after he sliced him, he took one look at the blood and fainted dead away. The mohel was there as a sort of expert-ha!-advisor. When the medico fainted, the mohel stepped in and finished the job. Then he did his vicious work on me. Just like a vulture swooping down on its prey. Goddamn Jew son-ofabitch!"
"I wonder what happened with the other baby," Olivia mused.
"Some lousy Jewish sultan probably hired him for his harem. How else do you think those Semitic bastards get their ennuchs?"
"Jews don't have harems. You're thinking of Arabs."
"Same difference."
"No, it's not. The Arabs don't like the Jews any more than you do," Olivia pointed out.
"That's just a front." Mortimer waved it away. "All those Semites are actually in cahoots to take over the world. All they want is to castrate every white man like they did me."
"But they didn't castrate you." Olivia was getting exasperated. "You were circumcised."
"Same difference. Same result, anyway. I have a wife and I can't satisfy her."
"Oh, yes, you can," Olivia purred, only partly lying. "Just turn out the light and come on back to bed. You know you can."
"I'm not hungry," Mortimer said sulkily.
"Don't be like that. First you get me all stirred up and now you leave me hanging. Come on, Mortimer, it's not fair." Olivia tugged at his head, trying to pull it down to where she wanted it.
"Oh, all right. But you'd better let me take my teeth out first."
"I guess so. But don't take all night about it."
"Now, you just be patient," Mortimer told her. "I can't afford to replace them. It's like Dr. Pulham used to say. 'Take care of your dentures your whole life through, and your dentures will last just as long as you chew.' "
"Ah, Dr. Pulham," Olivia reminisced. "If it hadn't been for him, we wouldn't be here like this right now. We wouldn't be married. We might not have even met." Olivia sighed. "He should drop dead!" she added under her breath. "Slowly!"
"That's true," Mortimer agreed. "If it hadn't been for orthodonture, I never would have known what romance was. I guess we could truly say that bridgework brought us together. Remember how it was? Both of us so self-conscious because we'd had all our teeth pulled. Both of us avoiding dates like the plague, afraid to even talk to a person of the opposite sex, afraid of being laughed at. That whole long time while we were waiting for Dr. Pulham to make the plates, gumming our way through that awful period. No wonder we latched on to each other and clung together. There's nothing like dental mechanics to form the foundation for a lasting relationship."
"I suppose you're right," Olivia granted. "Haven't you got them out yet? What's taking you so long?"
"The goddamn denture powder's congealed. I'm having trouble working the plate loose. Goddamn denture powder! Wouldn't you know it's made by a sheenie firm!" Mortimer pried with his fingers inside his mouth. After a moment he removed them and cursed. "Goddamn Arch!" he snarled. "That sonofabitch!"
"Arch? You mean your cousin? What about him?"
"He's responsible for my losing all my teeth in the first place. That's what! I told you."
"Oh, that's right. I'd forgotten."
"I didn't want to play baseball. I never wanted to play baseball. All the time I was a kid I didn't want to play baseball. And after I was grown up, I certainly didn't want to play baseball. But nothing changes. When I was a kid, Arch would tease me into playing. And when I grew up, it was the same thing. Right up to that day it happened. Like always, they'd make me the catcher to keep me out of the way. And that day it was Arch at bat and me behind him catching. He belted the damn ball and then threw his bat and it hit me smack in the mouth. Knocked out every tooth in my head."
"I know," Olivia reminded him. "You've told me all about it. Several times. You have all my sympathy. I promise never to watch another baseball game. That will be my sacrifice to your naked gums."
"There's no need to be sarcastic. It may sound funny to you, but it isn't funny to me. No funnier than the way you lost your choppers at the ripe old age of twenty. What could be more ridiculous than sticking your head inside a washing machine and getting clobbered by the agitator?"
"It wasn't working. I was just looking to see what was wrong. How could I have known it was going to start up with my head in there? How could I anticipate that the agitator would tear up my mouth like some infernal machine tearing the kernels from an ear of corn?" Olivia shuddered at the memory.
"All right then. Just don't get sarcastic with me. People in glass houses, you know? Besides, at least I've made the psychic adjustment to being toothless. I accept it. That's more than you can say, Olivia. I haven't seen you with your teeth out since you got them. And I'll bet nobody else has, either."
"It's different. I'm a woman. My feminine pride won't let me be seen without them. And nobody knows they're false except you and Dr. Pulham. I'd just die if anybody found out. I don't even like it that you know."
"Well, I do." Mortimer resumed struggling with his teeth. "Ouch!" He finally pulled the dentures free. "Goddamn Arch!" he grumbled.
"That reminds me," Olivia remembered. "Shouldn't we have him over for dinner soon?"
"I suppose so. Do you know how to cook hemlock?"
"I'll ask my old friend Llona the same night. Remember, I told you how I bumped into her. That way I won't have to sit and listen to you two men yak man-talk all night."
"You don't have to worry about that. Arch and I have nothing to say to each other. He doesn't like me any better than I like him. If it wasn't for Mother, I'd tell you to forget the whole thing. But I suppose we have to have him."
"Of course we do. Besides, after hearing so much about him, I'm anxious to meet him. Don't forget to leave me his phone number before you go to work tomorrow. If I leave it to you to call him, you'll never do it."