Page 60 of The Bad Weather Friend

The origami time-fold trick was no less startling than it had been before. Benny found himself gripping the edges of his car seat as if the fundamental structure of the universe was unstable, as if the vehicle might spontaneously disassemble and gravity might fail, whereupon he in his seat might soar out of Earth’s atmosphere. A good dinner and a hug hadn’t to any extent relieved his stress.

A two-lane cobblestone driveway served the walled estate of F. Upton Theron. A guardhouse stood to the left. The massive ornamented gate was meant to leave lesser mortals abashed at the splendor of the wealth it represented. An entire clan of bronze workers must have been contused, sprained, abraded, and badly herniated during its construction. At the moment, the halves of this barrier stood open.

In the lane farther from the guardhouse, someone had left a black Mercedes sedan. The engine was running, and the parking lights glowed, but no one occupied the outbound car. The vanity license plate declaredPINCHME.

As they approached, a man in his forties stepped out of the guardhouse. In a superbly tailored dark suit and white shirt and necktie, with his short hair styled without ostentation, beardless, with no visible tattoos or face jewelry, shoulders back, posture perfect, he might have been Benny’s older brother from anothermother or a time traveler just arrived from the 1950s. He blocked the inbound lane and waved them to a stop.

“His suit,” Spike said, “is cut to conceal a pistol carried in a shoulder holster, yet he clearly isn’t a guard. This should not be a conversation conducted through an open window.”

“Is this a bogadril moment?” Benny asked.

“Pray it’s not,” Spike said and disembarked from the Explorer.

Instead of doing the rational thing and skedaddling, Benny and Harper exited the vehicle as well, because that’s the kind of night it was.

The idling Mercedes was an EV, exceedingly quiet as long as its toxic and unstable batteries failed to burst into flame. The night was also hushed, the faintest of breezes whispering through the cascading fronds of the phoenix palms, as if carrying secrets from one tree to another.

No less self-possessed than Clark Kent, Superman’s alter ego, the stranger exhibited neither surprise nor concern about Spike’s size. “May I ask who you’re here to see?”

“Mr. Theron is expecting us,” Spike said.

“He invited us,” Harper said.

With astonishment, not being practiced in deceit, Benny heard himself reaching deep into his storied past to craft a lie. “Upton generously funded the vital research of my mother, Dr. Catherine Baneberry-Smith, the Nobel laureate. You undoubtedly know of her, might even have seen her on one of her many PBS appearances. We’ve come here tonight to share with Upton the exciting news that Mother has made a breakthrough of historic nature.”

By the time Benny finished, Spike and Harper were staring at him as if he had rattled all that off in flawless Chinese.

The stranger appeared to receive this preposterous announcement without suspicion. “I’m Dr. Alistair Pinch, Mr. Theron’s personal physician. Indeed, he’s my only patient. I’m a bit concerned about his behavior this evening. I came here to ... to attend to a request of his. Mr. Theron often has unusual requests, but there’s never any negative repercussions. In spite of his age, he is sharp minded and determined to live at least to a hundred. The thing is, the usual guards were on duty when I arrived, but they were going home at Mr. Theron’s direction by the time I was leaving. He further instructed them not to close the gate, though he is always security conscious. I’ve been here for twenty minutes, trying to decide whether I should return to the house and check on him. But he resents being what he calls ‘mothered,’ and he can be ... caustic.”

Enchanted by his newfound ability to lie convincingly, Benny said, “I can put your mind at rest, Dr. Pinch. Upton is aware that we are bringing him news of such importance that it will change the world, bring an end to disease, and lead humanity to lasting peace and plenty. The guards know us from past visits, know my mother from her amusing appearances onSaturday Night Liveand her TV commercial for milk. They are aware that Upton is her greatest supporter. So he was concerned that they might infer from our late-evening visit that Mother has either wrought another scientific miracle that will earn her a second Nobel Prize or has, at the very least, been signed to her own reality TV program. The guards here are good people, very loyal employees. But as you can well imagine, there is serious money to be made by tipping off various media to major developments in the lives of people who are as famous as Mother and as wealthy as Upton. Given the momentous nature of what we have come here to tellUpton, I shouldn’t have revealed even what little I have to you. We are relying on your discretion.”

“Yes, all right,” Pinch said, “but there’s also the issue of Arabella, which I find troubling.”

For whatever reason, the physician addressed that statement to Harper, as if she impressed him as being the one most likely to have an understanding of the singular importance of Arabella.

Harper smiled and nodded. “Yes. Arabella.”

“Although she has an independent spirit and business of her own to attend to now and then,” Dr. Pinch said, “Arabella is always with Upton in the evening. They are inseparable. She’s either in his lap while he strokes her while she quivers all over, or she’s draped around his neck like a contortionist, seemingly boneless, or on the floor in front of his chair as he wiggles his bare toes all over her. But not tonight.”

Still nodding but now frowning with concern, Harper said, “Really? Not tonight?”

“I asked him where she was,” the physician continued, “and he said she was safely in the bedroom, watching TV, and changed the subject. ‘Safely.’ I wondered about that word. He always wants her with him. Do you think the word‘safely’could be a euphemism?”

Harper said, “You know, I’m largely uneducated.” She pointed to Benny. “My brother, Elmer, he’d know about euphemisms.”

Before Benny could launch again, Pinch said, “The thing is, he’s given his heart to so many Arabellas over the decades, death after death after death, all buried on the estate as a constant reminder of loss. Maybe there comes one loss too many, and he decides he can endure no more. Could the word‘safely’imply that Arabella is dead, safe from pain and suffering, and he’s placed her in his bedroom, where he intends to lie down beside her, injecthimself through the catheter in his left arm—some drug he got that I never would have prescribed—and just fade away?”

“That doesn’t sound like the Upton I know,” Benny said. “The Upton I know is—”

The doctor tramped on whatever fabulousness Benny might have conjured. “I must say, when I first became his physician, I didn’t find rabbits particularly appealing. But those Flemish giants are quite endearing and very beautiful.”

“Ah,rabbits!” said Harper, Benny, and Spike in sudden mutual understanding.

“Gradually,” Pinch continued, “I came to see why Upton would prefer them to dogs or cats. When the first Arabella under my watch died, I’m not embarrassed to say I was more moved than I expected to be.”

“Dr. Pinch,” Spike said, taking control of the situation as was his nature and his mission, “I spoke to Upton not ten minutes ago, to advise him we were soon to arrive, and he said that Arabella will be there. He knows how much my sister, Elvira”—here he indicated Harper—“adores that rabbit.”

“Arabella,” said Harper, “couldn’t be more magical if she had been pulled from a top hat.”

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