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〃You look like you had a tough night；〃 I said。
〃Tougher morning。 You seen the Times？〃
I had； as a matter of fact…the front page； anyway。 There was the usual report on Reagan's condition； the usual stuff about unrest in the mideast； the usual corruption…in…government story； and the usual bottom…of…the…page mand to support the Fresh Air Fund。 Nothing that struck me as of any immediate concern。 Nevertheless； I felt a little stirring of the hairs on the back of my neck。
The Times was sitting folded over in the OUT half of Roger's IN/OUT basket。 I took it。
〃First page of the B section；〃 he said； still looking out the window。 At the bum； presumably。 。 。 or do you call a female of the species a bumette？
I turned to the National Report and saw a picture of an airplane…what was left of one； anyway…in a weedy field littered with cast…off engine parts。 In the background； a bunch of people were standing behind a cyclone fence and gawking。 I scanned the headline and knew at once。
〃Barfield？〃 I asked。
〃Barfield；〃 he agreed。
〃Christ！〃
〃Christ had nothing to do with it。〃
I scanned the piece without really reading it； just looking for her name。 And there she was： Tina Barfield of Central Falls； source of that old adage 〃if you play around the buzz…saw too long； sooner or later someone is gonna get cut。〃 Or burned alive in a Cessna Titan； she should have added。
〃She said she'd be safe from Carlos if she did a genuine Good Turn；〃 Roger said。 〃That might lead some to deduce that what she did us was just the opposite。〃
〃I believed her about that；〃 I said。 I think I was telling the truth； but whether I was or wasn't； I didn't want Roger deciding to uproot the ivy growing in Riddley's closet because of what had happened to Tina Barfield。 Shocked as I was； I didn't want that。 Then I saw…or maybe intuited…that Roger's mind wasn't running that way； and I relaxed a little。
〃Actually； I did； too；〃 he said。 〃She was at least trying to do a Good Turn。〃
〃Maybe she just didn't do it soon enough；〃 I said。
He nodded。 〃Maybe that was it。 I read the short story she mentioned； by the way…the one by Jerome Bixby。〃
〃'It's a Good Life。 '〃
〃Right。 By the time I'd read two pages； I recognized it as the basis of a famous Twilight Zone episode starring Billy Mumy。 What the hell ever happened to Billy Mumy？〃
I didn't give Shit One about what happened to Billy Mumy； but thought it might be a bad idea to say so。
〃The story's about a little boy who's a super…psychic。 He destroys the whole world； apparently； except for his own little circle of friends and relatives。 Those people he holds hostage； killing them if they dare to cross him in any way。〃
I remembered the episode。 The little kid hadn't pulled out anyone's heart or caused any planes to crash； but he'd turned one character…his big brother or maybe a neighbor…into a jack…in…the…box。 And when he made a mess； he simply sent it away into the cornfield。
〃Based on that； can you imagine what living with Carlos must have been like？〃 Roger asked me。
〃What are we going to do； Roger？〃
He turned from the window then and looked at me straight on。 Frightened…I was； too…but determined。 I respected him for that。 And I respect myself； too。
I think。
〃We're going to make Zenith House into a profitable concern if we can；〃 he said； 〃and then we're going to jam about nine gallons of black ink in Harlow Enders's eye。 I don't know if that plant is really a modern…day version of Jack's beanstalk or not； but if it is； we're going to climb it and get the golden harp； the golden goose； and all the gold doubloons we can carry。 Agreed？〃
I stuck out my hand。 〃Agreed； boss。〃
He shook it。 I haven't had many fine moments before nine in the morning； at least not as an adult； but that was one of them。
〃We're also going to be careful；〃 he said。 〃Agreed there？〃
〃Agreed。〃 It's only tonight； dear diary； that I realize what you're left with if you take the a out of agreed。 I would be telling less than the truth if I didn't say that sort of haunts me。
We talked a little more。 I wanted to go down and check on Zenith； Roger suggested we wait for Bill； Herb； and Sandra； then do it together。
LaShonda Evans came in before they did； plaining that the reception area smelled funny。 Roger sympathized； suggested it might be mildew in the carpet； and authorized a petty…cash expenditure for a can of Glade； which can be purchased in the Smiler's across the street。 He also suggested that she leave the editors pretty much alone for the next couple of months； they were all going to be working hard； he said； trying to live up to the parent pany's expectations。 He didn't say 〃unrealistic expectations；〃 but some people can convey a great deal with no more than a certain tone of voice； and Roger is one of them。
〃It's my policy not to go any further than right here； Mr。 Wade；〃 she said； standing in the door of Roger's office and speaking with great dignity。 〃You're okay。 。 。 and so are you； Mr。 Kenton。 。 。 most of the time。 。 。〃
I thanked her。 I've discovered that after your girl has dropped you for some West Coast smoothie who probably knows Tai Chi and has been rolphed as est…ed to a nicety； even left…handed pliments sound pretty good。
〃。 。 。but those other three are a little on the weird side。〃
With that； LaShonda left。 I imagine she had calls to make； a few of which might even have to do with the publishing business。 Roger looked at me； amused； and further rumpled his disarranged hair。 〃She didn't know what the smell was；〃 he said。
〃I don't think LaShonda spends a lot of time in the kitchen。〃
〃When you look like LaShonda； I doubt if you need to；〃 Roger said。 〃The only time you smell garlic is when the waiter brings your Shrimp Mediterranean。〃
〃Meanwhile；〃 I said； 〃there's Glade。 And the garlic…smell will be gone before long； anyway。 Unless； of course； you're either a bloodhound or a supernatural houseplant。〃
We looked at each other for a moment； then burst out laughing。 Maybe just because Tina Barfield was dead and we were alive。 Not very nice； I know； but the day brightened from that point on； that much； at least； I'm sure of。
Roger had left little notes on Herb's； Sandra's； and Bill's desks。 By nine…thirty we were all gathered in Roger's office； which doubles as our editorial conference room。 Roger began by saying that he thought both Herb and Sandra had been aided in their inspirations； and with no more preamble than that； he told them the story of our trip to Rhode Island。 I helped as much as I could。 We both tried to express how strange our visit to the greenhouse had been； how otherworldly； and I believe all three of them understood most of that。 When it came to Norville Keen； however； I don't think either Roger or I really got the point across。
Bill and Herb were sitting side by side on the floor； as they often do during our editorial conferences； drinking coffee； and I saw them exchange a glance of the kind in which eyeballs rolling heavenward play a crucial part。 I thought about trying to press the point； then didn't。 If I may misquote the wisdom of Norville Keen：〃Y