The Flex of the Thumb (22 page)

“That sounds real nice, Herne.”

Vano climbed aboard behind John, who was getting in place behind Herne. Owing to these cramped conditions, John's unruly thatch of brown hair was nearly flush with the tip of Vano's nose. Vano could see several tiny, pale insects maneuvering along the scalp.

They whisked away to the administration building on the huge, sleek Harley. Mrs. Askew showed them inside, where the threesome stood in front of Reggie Rose's desk. Herne Hill introduced himself first, then John, and finallly, Vano.

“Vano Lucas?” President Rose repeated the name. “Do I know you?”

From his ultra deep location, Vano was able to observe, “I don't think we've ever met.”

“I'm sure your name sounds familiar, though.” But Reggie was too unsettled by the appearance of Herne Hill to give the matter any further attention. He took a long look at Herne's leather vest and trousers, his bushy beard, his Harley accessories, his French horn, and his feral eyes.
God in Heaven,
Reggie thought to himself.
Is this to be the teacher
? When the president finally found his tongue, he asked, “Why is John here?”

“John is blind in this right eye, and 90 percent blind in the left one. He is deaf and dumb. And I do mean dumb, for his IQ is located somewhere in the range known as profoundly retarded. He's also emotionally disturbed. I usually take him wherever I go; it wouldn't be safe to leave him alone and unattended.”

John said, “Llllllll.”

“I can see your point,” said Reggie Rose, “But what does he
do
?”

“I've taken John on as my business associate,” Herne explained. “He doesn't have to do anything except sit where customers can look at him. He has a certain mystical quality which is good for business. In fact, if you take a close look at this eye here, you'll see how it looks like a miniature crystal ball.” He was pointing to John's cloudy right eye.

“I see,” murmured the president, fearing he was firm in the middle of a terrible mistake.

There was at this point in the conversation a protracted lull. Vano was in so deep that he could view this meeting along the far edge of the horizon. Taking advantage of the lull, Vano said to President Rose, “I'm a student here. I'm a friend of Herne's. If you prefer, I can leave.”

Reggie wasn't sure how to respond. His mood was essentially upbeat, because Bertie Kerfoot was visiting her sister in Palm Springs.

It turned out not to matter. Herne Hill took up his French horn and said, “For my first number, I'd like to play
The Wayward Wind,
an old hit from the fifties by Gogi Grant.” He proceeded to play the number without a single mistake.

Reggie brightened. “That's very good,” he had to admit. Mrs. Askew appeared briefly from her own work area, but long enough to close the door.

“Thank you,” said Herne Hill. “The French horn repertoire is rather limited, as I'm sure you know. But
The Theme from Robin Hood
is always a favorite. That will be my next number.” This second number was so flawless in its appointment that Reggie was truly impressed.

“My final selection is one I've been working on lately. It's the theme from
Dallas
. Here goes.” The theme from
Dallas
was even more inspiring than the first two offerings.

With a rush of enthusiasm, Reggie Rose jumped to his feet. He came out from behind his desk and began pumping Herne Hill's right hand. “Egad, you can play that horn! I'm so glad I didn't judge you based on my first impression. The job is yours!”

Vano, Herne, and John returned to the dorm. Herne announced to Robin and Arnold, “Buddy boys, I am in. I am now a member of the faculty.”

Robin gave him a high five and a cold beer. Hill said, “When you're hot, you're hot! If you boys are ever lookin' for a stone cold
A,
you just sign yourselves up for Astrology 101.”

Then Herne broke open a large box of individually-wrapped Twinkies. He and Robin put their feet up. Arnold Beeker might have participated in the giddiness of this euphoric moment, had it not been for his immediate computer agenda. “Please sit down,” he said to Vano. “I have to show you this printout.”

“Lllllllll,” said John, as he maneuvered his way to the chair in front of the computer. Arnold interrupted himself long enough to boot up
Guns 'n' Martians
. John proceeded to press keys in a frenzy until he heard a repetitive beeping sound, at which time he began to giggle out of control.

Arnold returned to the printout, which he was reviewing in a speed-reading kind of pattern, a foot or so at a time. He was rapidly tearing away sections of paper, then allowing them to drop to the floor. “Just a minute, just a minute,” he said, in a voice tight with urgency. Finally, he found a very small section of the printout, which he tore free.

“This is it,” declared Arnold. “Take a look at this.”

Vano looked at the printing on the paper:

37.454N X 122.271N 0515GMT

But after reading it several times, he could only say, “This is very nice, Arnold.”

“Don't you know what it means?”

“No, I don't.”

“This is the read-out! This is the one!”

When Vano still drew a blank, Arnold explained, “This is it! This is the culmination! This read-out pinpoints exact time and place!”

“I see.”

Nearly breathless though he was, Arnold couldn't help underscoring, “This is the perfect set of conditions we talked about for entering ultimate hoom!”

“Are you sure?”

“As sure as I can be. We have a date, which is today's, and we have a time, 9:15 P.M. our time. I've been able to identify the precise location as Alta Plaza Park in San Francisco.”

After a few seconds Vano said, “I think it's very nice, Arnold. You deserve a lot of credit for working so hard.”

“Thank you, but this is so totally cosmic it truly humbles me, Vano. I just kept putting the data in, folds in the earth superimposed on patterns of harmonic convergence. Tell him what you said, Herne.”

Herne Hill made his reply with four ounces of beer in his mouth, along with the better part of a Twinkie: “What I said to him was, garbage in, garbage out. You get the goods, you get the answer you need. It was bound to happen.”

“Do you see, Vano?”

“No, Arnold, to be honest, I don't.”

First Arnold made a face, and then he held up his watch so Vano could see. “We don't have time to go into it now, it's past two o'clock. If we're going to get there on time, we need to get started.”

Vano receded a little deeper down. “Are we going to San Francisco today?”

“We
have
to,” Arnold insisted. “There's no other choice. We may be on the threshold of the greatest discovery since fire or the wheel! We can't look the opportunity in the face and turn the other way.”

Vano formed the question, “How will we get there?”

“We have your Lincoln. Sister Cecilia says it's no problem if we want to use it.”

The Twinkie finished and his beer can empty, Herne Hill was on his feet. He did a little gapping and stretching, then embarked on a series of long and loud belches. He was combing his beard with his fingers so as to distribute crumbs on Robin's bedspread. He said to Vano, “To go or not to go,
Amigo;
that is the question.”

“It would be very nice to go to San Francisco,” said Vano.

“Give me a few minutes to round up Rita,” said Herne. “She wouldn't miss this trip for anything.” He was referring to Rita Lieberman, with whom he had succeeded in establishing a carnal relationship during his few days on campus. “When I return, I'll be ready.”

After a few moments of pondering, Vano said, “Chaplain Johansen needs to go to Salinas. Can we offer him a ride?”

“Salinas is right on the way,” Hill noted. “The more the merrier is how I look at it.” Then he left.

Arnold began immediate preparation for the journey by doubling up on the adhesive tape which reinforced his glasses. He started to pack his Alpine backpack. “I wouldn't have all this stuff if it wasn't for the spelunking club,” he reminded Vano. In went some maps, a compass, his calculator, fresh batteries, the crucial pages of printout, the Arguelles book, Revuelto's manuscript, several number two pencils, and a translucent yellow plastic pencil sharpener from Sav-On.

From deeper down, Vano was watching him. “You'd better get your stuff ready,” Arnold told him.

“I don't have any stuff. I think I'm as ready as I'll ever be.”

Sister Cecilia entered the room, carrying the laundry basket. She began folding towels and stacking them on Vano's dresser.

“Sister, we're going to San Francisco. Would you like to come with us?”

“Thank you, Vano, but I think I have too much to do.”

Vano wondered if he should try and explain how this was more than a trip to the store. If he passed over into
ultimate hooommm,
then he would never see her again.

“I have two more loads of laundry and lots of ironing,” Sister continued. “I'm glad you're back, though; I need to talk to you.”

John giggled madly at a beeping laser just before Sister said, “I don't think it's a good idea for me to stay here any longer. I think it's time I moved out.”

Vano pointed out, “All the guys think highly of you, Sister.”

“I know. They've all been so accepting and supportive. This is a wonderful place for you and your friends, but I can't fit in, not over the long haul. I'm not discouraged though, because the Lord has made known His will to me. He has led me to understand what to do with myself.”

“What's that?” asked Vano.

“If it's all right with you, I'd like to keep on living at the condo. There's so much upkeep to do, even when I'm there by myself. Did you know that furnace filters have to be changed every month?”

“Even if the furnace isn't running?”

“I'm pretty sure.”

“I didn't know that,” Vano admitted.

“Besides that, there's the Salvation Army band. You know how much the band means to me.”

“I know how much the band means to you. I think it would be real nice if you stayed on at the condo.”

Herne Hill appeared in the doorway to announce that Rita was waiting in the car. Spying Sister, he made a request: “Little Lady, if we're going to San Fran, I'm going to have to leave John in your care. I hope you don't mind. He's getting such a kick out of the computer, I doubt if he'll need much attention.”

“Your father didn't have a current will, Vano. He was changing the terms of it after the accident. His estate is going to be in probate for a long time, I'm afraid.”

Herne said, “I might as well warn you, John has a habit of beating his meat. If he gets that action going, I advise you to more or less ignore it. I think he can tell if he's being watched, just don't ask me how.”

“With all his business interests and the investment portfolio, there's going to be a lot of red tape to unravel in the months ahead. I'm sure it would keep me busy for a long time. It would take several hours a day just to write the necessary letters.”

Vano agreed. “I can see your point.”

Herne said, “It makes some people uptight when he does it in public, but I say hey, what the hell? Live and let live. He's blind, he can't talk, and he's retarded. He deserves a little pleasure out of life, am I right?”

“Vano, what I'm trying to say is, I'd like to be the executor of your father's estate. Of course, I would need your permission.”

“I think it sounds real nice, Sister. It sounds real logical to me.”

Herne Hill brought his agenda to a conclusion by adding, “Course, you being a woman and all, you could probably send John straight to the moon if you was to get in a few strokes of your own. Let's just leave that part optional, though.”

“For several years, I've been doing a lot of your father's basic transactions like the checking account, the savings account, the certificates of deposit, the municipal bonds, and the IRA's. I could send you the same funds you're getting now, pay your school bills, and so on. In a little while, we might not even notice that your father is gone.”

“We might not even notice,” murmured Vano.

Arnold Beeker spoke up for the first time to say, “Vano, I've got to be completely honest with you. Even though this is totally cosmic, and even though it may be the most important event since the discovery of fire, I have a few reservations. I've got to be honest.”

Vano understood what he was talking about. For the second time, he wondered if he should share with Sister how this might be a permanent farewell. But Herne Hill interrupted his train of thought: “Boys, this is no time for wet feet. The time has come.”

On the way to the car, Arnold tried to define the manner of his trepidation: “This is a bittersweet situation. It's sweet because I figured out how to load the right data, which may lead to a great discovery. It's bitter because if it works, it means I won't be seeing you any more.”

“I understand.”

“If you go into ultimate hoom, you'll be in particle existence. I won't be seeing you any more. I'll have myself to blame, because I just had to feed that data.”

Vano's delay was a short one. “You did what you do best, Arnold. It's something to be proud of. Besides, nothing in the universe is permanent.”

“I suppose you think that's a good answer. I suppose you think that's some kind of consolation. I think this whole thing is mind-blowing.”

Vano said, “Most likely, that's what it is exactly.”

“Are you some kind of prophet or something? Is that why you were chosen?”

“Of course not.”

“But you were
chosen
.”

“I was only chosen because I had preliminary experience in
hooommm
. There were others before me and there will be others again. It's inevitable in a universe of waves and particles.”