Truth and Beauty 2-1

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By the time the subway hissed to a stop at 86th street Jack was feeling definitely nauseous. He joined the queue of people filing through the doors to the platform, forced himself through a turnstile, and climbed the stairs two-at-a-time to the street, where he reemerged into the sunlight and found a trash can to throw up into.

Now feeling somewhat better he wiped his mouth on his handkerchief and fished a stick of gum from his pocket, took in his bearings, and set off down the street at a brisk walk.

Five minutes later he was spitting his gum out into another trash can, and walking through the front door of his uncle’s building. He gave his name at the front desk and was waved through to the elevator.

“Twenty, please,” he told the elevator man.

At the twentieth floor the elevator waited as Jack crossed the hallway to knock at his uncle’s door. The door flew open as Jack raised his hand, opened by a jolly-faced man of about middling height, slightly overweight, but otherwise looking remarkably like Jack, if Jack had been a few inches shorter, a few inches rounder, and had white hair instead of yellow. The blue eyes were the same, as was the smile. “Jack!” said Uncle Rufus. He hugged Jack warmly and pulled him into the apartment. “Thank you, Charles,” he said to the elevator man, who bowed his head and allowed the elevator doors to close at last.

Uncle Rufus closed the front door. “Jack!” he said again, “good to see you at last. How have you been keeping? Will you have a brandy? Munchen!” he called to his butler, “two brandies, the Regency with the yellow seal, I think, we’ll have them on the veranda. Come, Jack, come. The uniform looks good on you, but you’re really getting too old for it.” He led his nephew through the foyer, down a hallway, across the blue library, and so out onto a wide balcony and back into the sun. “Yes,” he said, “too old. So I spoke to Willard, at the Admiralty, and I think the time has come for you to wet the squibs!”

“The squibs, sir?” Jack asked politely, taking the seat his uncle offered him.

One of his uncle’s countless servants appeared with brandy and glasses on a silver tray. “Leave the bottle, please, Natalie, and bring me the package from my desk in the study, please. Yes, the squibs! You have a ship!”

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