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.About 12.30?""I'll be there." There was a moment's silence, as if he had considered saying something more, then he said, "See you.""Yes," she agreed, discovering herself to be slightly breathless."Mommy, Mommy, I have a stomach ache." Owen Michael stood in the doorway, his face a mask of misery."Darling! I didn't hear you come in.Just a moment.Yes," she said, "Thursday at 12.30, Mr Connors.Goodbye."There was a moment's pause before Richard said, "Goodbye." The phone went dead, and Jo turned to face a worried Florence."It's a fact Owen Michael ain't too good," she said."Says he has a bellyache.That's the third time this month.I guess he don't like my cooking."Jo put her arm round her son's shoulders."Where is the pain, sweetheart? Tell me.""All over, in no particular place."Jo could see this was no imaginary tummy ache; the boy's eyes swam with tears which his ten-year-old pride was fighting to hold back."Is it the same pain as the other day?"His chin bobbed up and down as he nodded."Then I'm going to take you along to see Dr Knapps right now.Maybe he can tell us the problem and give you something to fix it."The Mercy Clinic, Avenue of the Americas"Dr Knapps is on vacation, Mrs Donnelly, but Dr Glenville can see your son.""That'll be fine," Jo responded."Just as long as he can tell me what's wrong."They sat in the waiting room thumbing through dated journals for over half an hour, and inevitably, by the time they were called into the consulting room, Owen Michael's pain was gone.Dr Glenville was one of the several partners who owned and operated the clinic, and with Dr Knapps he shared the pediatric section.He was a charming, elderly man, who smiled benevolently, though failing completely to conceal his tolerant skepticism.Owen Michael lay on the examination couch while the doctor pressed his abdomen and asked questions, then when he was satisfied, Dr Glenville said, "Hm.Let's see.Your school year finishes in a couple of weeks, I believe.""Yes, sir." Owen Michael nodded politely."So you're about to begin your exams.""On Monday, sir.""Hoping for good grades, I guess?"Owen Michael grinned."I hope so, sir.""He's starting High School in September," Jo explained."So you've been working extra hard.Exams can be tough, can't they?" Owen Michael nodded vigorously."Find any subject very difficult? How's your math?""Math is no problem.English grammar and literature are the worst." Dr Glenville smiled, and nodded."Not too difficult to diagnose a nervy young stomach at this time of year, is it?""Well." Jo hesitated."He really was in pain, doctor.I know he was.""Of course he was, Mrs Donnelly.Psychosomatic pain can be just as unbearable as the real thing.What we have to do is relax those stomach muscles.I'll give you a prescription." He sat at his desk and scrawled something indecipherable on a pad."This'll settle him down."WEDNESDAY 14 JUNE52nd StreetThe two filing clerks Jo spoke to in the main Profiles office had never heard of Richard Connors, neither were they the slightest bit interested in hurricanes.Nor was the man on the newsstand from whom she usually bought a paper on the way to work.But when next morning Jo asked Nancy Duval, who was shaping her hair with expert snips of her scissors, the hairdresser gave a tremendous response."I was in the Bahamas once," Nancy said, "when there was a warning.God, I was scared." The blonde curls bobbed up and down as the girl gesticulated at Jo in the mirror."Took Bill hours, and three vodka Martinis, to calm me down.Gee, if one of those things ever hit New York.""It's highly improbable, of course," Jo said, beginning to worry about the proximity of the scissors to her ears."It would have to be the result of freak weather conditions.You know, an exceptionally hot, dry spring, raising the water temperatures way above normal, and." She paused, to stare into the mirror, and watch the sweat beads gathering at Nancy's mouth and temples, despite the air-conditioning in the salon."Like this one now," Nancy suggested."There have been hot springs before," Jo pointed out."The chances must be a thousand to one against anything like that happening.""I was always a sucker for long odds.My father gambled away a fortune on horses, always going for short odds, but you'd be amazed by the number of times I raked in the cash from outsiders.Thousand to one against it may be, but it still gives me the creeps to think about it."The conversation was certainly slowing down the trimming job, but it was good for business, and Jo asked, "Do I guess right that, if there was a hurricane warning for New York, you'd leave?""Leave? You can bet your goddamn ass I'd leave.I'd be leading them all the way out of town, 'cept I reckon no one would see my heels for dust.""Bill might not want to go," Jo suggested."Correct.Bill will not want to move – but he will, even if I have to drag him away by the hair.""And your three children.""Yep.I'd throw them all in the car, lock the doors, and drive like crazy.There." She stepped back."That looks better."Jo looked at the results in the mirror.She could have sworn the left side was shorter than the right, but she had been here long enough as it was."Yes, that looks great.Thanks a million.""Say, you vacation in the Bahamas, don't you?" Nancy inquired."You ever seen a hurricane?""I don't think so," Jo replied, deciding against supporting Big Mike's upgrading of their storm of three years earlier.New York City LibraryJo's Mercedes was in for a service, so she left the salon and walked down to the library; she needed some more youthful reactions.There was the usual assortment of people sitting or lounging on the steps.Most were in groups, but there was one young man, wearing a dirty sweatshirt and shorts, gym shoes and a broad-brimmed western style hat – through the band of which was stuck a hash pipe.He was sitting on the steps and reading a newspaper, and did not look up as she stood behind him."You're wasting your time, sister," he said."I don't have 'em.""Have what?" Jo inquired."You ain't taking a survey on Aids?""As a matter of fact, no," she said.At last he raised his head.He was quite a good-looking boy, early twenties, she estimated, spoiled only by the looseness of his mouth, the laziness in his eyes."Well, what d'you know," he said."What do you know," he repeated, as he inspected her from her ankles, slowly up the length of her summer skirt, which was inclined to sheerness in the afternoon sun, to her breasts."Well, if you're looking for a fuck, I guess we'll have to use your place." He grinned."I ain't got one."Jo opened her mouth and then closed it again.She wished she had chosen someone else.But his reaction might be interesting."My name is Josephine Donnelly," she said."I work for Profiles Magazine, and I am doing some research on hurricanes."The young man leaned back and tilted his hat over his eyes."Siddown," he suggested.Jo hesitated, then chose a relatively clean piece of step.It was the middle of the afternoon and they were surrounded by at least a thousand people: but she was careful to keep out of arm's reach."You are something," he remarked."I like your feet.""Thank you," she said."You ever been in a hurricane?""But I like your ass better.You know what I'd like to do to your ass?""No," she said."What about the hurricane?""Bit of breeze," he said."You've seen one?"He shrugged."Can't say I have [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]