Chapter 20
September 29
Gratitude
LIZA THE REALTOR brought another flock of mixed nuts to the island. Like the earlier shoppers who had come to kick the tires, these people were not interested in running a hotel. Their shepherd announced, after shaking my hand and introducing his followers, “We are seeking a suitable place to welcome the millennium.”
“A place for a party?” I asked. The shepherd and his flock responded with indulgent snickering.
“Not a party, but a celebration. The great celebration, the final celebration, when everything will be turned upside down and inside out.”
“I celebrate that every evening in the Small’s Hotel lounge,” I said, and I indulged in some indulgent snickering of my own.
“But on that day, the great day, everything that is will cease to be what it has been, and everything that never yet has been will become what it will be.”
“That does sound like a once-in-a-lifetime event,” said Al. “Why don’t you look around and see if this is the place for it?”
We watched them walk off. They spent the rest of the day on the island, and they inspected it so thoroughly that Albertine allowed herself to hope that they might make an offer. “They may be nuts,” she said, “but they went around the island very thoroughly. I think they’re interested, and I suspect that they’ve got the cash. You know, they’re probably one of those groups that requires the flock to surrender all its worldly goods to the shepherd.”
Toward evening, the entire flock gathered at the dock. Lou had offered to take them back to shore, and I accepted the offer because if anything happened on the trip to discourage them I didn’t want to be responsible for it. Albertine and I stood in my workroom upstairs, side by side, watching them through our binoculars.
“Can you tell what they’re saying?” she asked.
“No, but I think they’re engaged in a heated debate of some kind.”
“Yeah, it looks that way.”
“I was thinking of getting the big ear out.”
“Yes, yes. Quick.”
The “big ear” is part of my eavesdropper’s gear. It’s a microphone mounted at the focus of a parabolic reflector, with an amplifier and an earphone. With the big ear pointed at the group on the dock, I was able to hear them quite clearly.
“Well?” asked Albertine. “Are they serious?”
“They’re having an argument about whether the millennium closes at midnight on the last day of the year 1999 or at midnight on the last day of the year 2000.”
“Oh, that.”
“Yeah,” I said, snickering indulgently. “But in their case it has particular relevance, because — as that tall one with the tonsure is saying — if the day they are awaiting — the day when what was won’t be and what will will — if that day arrives just after midnight on the first day of 2001, then it probably makes sense for them to invest in a new boiler and amortize the expense over the remaining years, but if the day of days is going to arrive at the start of the year 2000, then they should probably just cross their fingers and hope that this boiler will see them through.”
“That is a practical consideration,” said Albertine. “I’m glad to see that they’ve got their feet on the ground.”
“They’re going to suspend further consideration of the purchase of the island until there is a consensus of the entire group on the issue,” I said.
“Oh,” said Albertine, and I believe that she was experiencing a sinking sensation as she said it.
[to be continued]
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