"I"m Ed McMahon," Ray says, sitting up. "I"m standing out there with a mike in my hand, looking out on all those faces, and suddenly it looks like they"re sliding down on me. sliding down on me. Help!" Ray jumps up and waves his arms. "And I say to myself, "Ed, what are you Help!" Ray jumps up and waves his arms. "And I say to myself, "Ed, what are you doing doing here, Ed?" " here, Ed?" "

"Let"s go for a walk," Sugar says. "Do you want to take a walk?"

"I want to watch the d.a.m.ned Johnny Carson show. How come you don"t have a television?"

Sugar pats the last ball of wool, drops it into the knitting basket. She looks at May. "We didn"t have much for dinner. How about some cashew b.u.t.ter on toast, or some guacamole?"

"O.K.," May says. Sugar is very nice to her. It would be nice to have Sugar for a mother.

"Fix me some of that stuff, too," Ray says. He flips through a pile of records and picks one up, carefully removes it, his thumb in the center, another finger on the edge. He puts it on the record player and slowly lowers the needle to Rod Stewart, hoa.r.s.ely singing "Mandolin Wind." "The way he sings "No, no," " Ray says, shaking his head.

In the kitchen, May takes a piece of toast out of the toaster, then takes out the other piece and puts it on her father"s plate. Sugar pours each of them a gla.s.s of cranberry juice.

"You just love me, don"t you, Sugar?" Ray says, and bites into his toast. "Because living with Gus is like living with a mummy-right?"

Sugar shrugs. She is smoking a cigarillo and drinking cranberry juice.

"I"m your Marvin Gardens," Ray says. "I"m your G.o.d-d.a.m.ned Park Place Park Place."

Sugar exhales, looks at some fixed point on the wall across from her.

"Oh, metaphor metaphor," Ray says, and cups his hand, as though he can catch something. "Everything is like everything else. Ray is like Gus. Sugar"s getting tired of Ray."

"What the h.e.l.l are you talking about, Ray?" Sugar says.

"Your one cat is like your other cat," Ray says. "All is one. Om, om."

Sugar drains her gla.s.s. Sugar and Ray are both smiling. May smiles, to join them, but she doesn"t understand them.

Ray begins his James Taylor imitation. "Ev-ery-body, have you hoid, she"s gonna buy me a mockin" boid..." he sings.

Ray used to sing to May"s mother. He called it serenading. He"d sit at the table, waiting for breakfast, singing and keeping the beat with his knife against the table. As May got older, she was a little embarra.s.sed when she had friends over and Ray began serenading. Her father is very energetic; at home, he used to sprawl out on the floor to arm-wrestle with his friends. He told May that he had been a Marine. Later, her mother told her that that wasn"t true-he wasn"t even in the Army, because he had too many allergies.

"Let"s take a walk," Ray says now, hitting the table so hard that the plates shake.

"Get your coat, May," Sugar says. "We"re going for a walk."

Sugar puts on a tan poncho with unicorns on the front and stars on the back. May"s clothes are at Wanda"s, so she wears Sugar"s raincoat, tied around her waist with a red Moroccan belt. "We look like we"re auditioning for Fellini," Sugar says.

Ray opens the sliding door. The small patio is covered with sand. They walk down two steps to the beach. There"s a quarter-moon, and the water is dark. There is a wide expanse of sand between the house and the water. Ray skips down the beach, away from them, becoming a blur in the darkness.

"Your father"s in a bad mood because another publisher turned down his book of photographs," Sugar says.

"Oh," May says.

"That raincoat falling off you?" Sugar says, tugging on one shoulder. "You look like some Biblical figure."

It"s windy. The wind blows the sand against May"s legs. She stops to rub some of it away.

"Ray?" Sugar calls. "Hey, Ray!"

"Where is he?" May asks.

"If he didn"t want to walk with us, I don"t know why he asked us to come," Sugar says.

They are close to the water now. A light spray blows into May"s face.

"Ray!" Sugar calls down the beach.

"Boo!" Ray screams, in back of them. Sugar and May jump. May screams.

"I was crouching. Didn"t you see me?" Ray says.

"Very funny," Sugar says.

Ray hoists May onto his shoulders. She doesn"t like being up there. He scared her.

"Your legs are as long as flagpoles," Ray says to May. "How old are you now?"

"Twelve."

"Twelve years old. I"ve been married to your mother for thirteen years."

Some rocks appear in front of them. It is where the private beach ends and the public beach begins. In the daytime they often walk here and sit on the rocks. Ray takes pictures, and Sugar and May jump over the incoming waves or just sit looking at the water. They usually have a good time. Right now, riding on Ray"s shoulders, May wants to know how much longer they are going to stay at the beach house. Maybe her mother is already back. If Wanda told her mother about the Cadillac, her mother would know it was Sugar"s, wouldn"t she? Her mother used to say nasty things about Sugar and Gus. "College people," her mother called them. Sugar teaches crafts at a high school; Gus is a piano teacher. At the beach house, Sugar has taught May how to play scales on Gus"s piano. It is a huge black piano that takes up almost a whole room. There is a picture on top of a Doberman, with a blue ribbon stuck to the side of the frame. Gus used to raise dogs. Three of them bit him in one month, and he quit. people," her mother called them. Sugar teaches crafts at a high school; Gus is a piano teacher. At the beach house, Sugar has taught May how to play scales on Gus"s piano. It is a huge black piano that takes up almost a whole room. There is a picture on top of a Doberman, with a blue ribbon stuck to the side of the frame. Gus used to raise dogs. Three of them bit him in one month, and he quit.

"Race you back," Ray says now, lowering May. But she is too tired to race. She and Sugar just keep walking when he runs off. They walk in silence most of the way back.

"Sugar," May says, "do you know how long we"re going to be here?"

Sugar slows down. "I really don"t know. No. Are you worried that your mother might be back?"

"She ought to be back by now."

Sugar"s hair looks like snow in the moonlight. "Go to bed when we get back and I"ll talk to him," Sugar says.

When they get to the house, the light is on, so it"s easier to see where they"re walking. As Sugar pushes open the sliding door, May sees her father standing in front of Gus in the living room. Gus does not turn around when Sugar says, "Gus. h.e.l.lo."

Everyone looks at him. "I"m tired as h.e.l.l," Gus says. "Is there any beer?"

"I"ll get you some," Sugar says. Almost in slow motion, she goes to the refrigerator.

Gus has been looking at Ray"s pictures of Sugar, and suddenly he s.n.a.t.c.hes one off the wall. "On my my wall?" Gus says. "Who did that? Who hung them up?" wall?" Gus says. "Who did that? Who hung them up?"

"Ray," Sugar says. She hands him the can of beer.

"Ray," Gus repeats. He shakes his head. He shakes the beer in the can lightly but doesn"t drink it.

"May," Sugar says, "why don"t you go upstairs and get ready for bed?"

"Go upstairs," Gus says. Gus"s face is red, and he looks tired and wild.

May runs up the stairs and then sits down there and listens. No one is talking. Then she hears Gus say, "Do you intend to spend the night, Ray? Turn this into a little social occasion?"

"I would like to stay for a while to-" Ray begins.

Gus says something, but his voice is so low and angry that May can"t make out the words.

Silence again.

"Gus-" Ray begins again.

"What?" Gus shouts. "What have you got to say to me, Ray? You don"t have a d.a.m.ned thing to say to me. Will you get out of here now?"

Footsteps. May looks down and sees her father walk past the stairs. He does not look up. He did not see her. He has gone out the door, leaving her. In a minute she hears his motorcycle start and the noise the tires make riding through gravel. May runs downstairs to Sugar, who is picking up the pictures Gus has ripped off the walls.

"I"m going to take you home, May," Sugar says.

"I"m coming with you," Gus says. "If I let you go, you"ll go after Ray."

"That"s ridiculous," Sugar says.

"I"m going with you," Gus says.

"Let"s go, then," Sugar says. May is the first one to the door.

Gus is barefoot. He stares at Sugar and walks as if he is drunk. He is still holding the can of beer.

Sugar gets into the driver"s seat of the Cadillac. The key is in the ignition. She starts the car and then puts her head against the wheel and begins to cry.

"Get moving, will you?" Gus says. "Or move over." Gus gets out and walks around the car. "I knew you were going crazy when you dyed your hair," Gus says. "Shove over, will you?"

Sugar moves over. May is in the back seat, in one corner.

"For G.o.d"s sake, stop crying," Gus says. "What am I doing to you?"

Gus drives slowly, then very fast. The radio is on, in a faint mumble. For half an hour they ride in silence, except for the sounds of the radio and Sugar blowing her nose.

"Your father"s O.K.," Sugar says at last. "He was just upset, you know."

In the back seat, May nods, but Sugar does not see it.

At last the car slows, and May sits up and sees they are in the block where she lives. Ray"s motorcycle is not in the driveway. All the lights are out in the house.

"It"s empty," Sugar says. "Or else she"s asleep in there. Do you want to knock on the door, May?"

"What do you mean, it"s empty?" Gus says.

"She"s in Colorado," Sugar says. "I thought she might be back."

May begins to cry. She tries to get out of the car, but she can"t work the door handle.

"Come on," Gus says to her. "Come on, now. We can go back. I don"t believe this."

May"s legs are still sandy, and they itch. She rubs them, crying.

"You can take her back to Wanda"s," Sugar says. "Is that O.K., May?"

"Wanda? Who"s that?"

"Her mother"s friend. It"s not far from here. I"ll show you."

"What am I even doing talking to you?" Gus says.

The radio drones. In another ten minutes they are at Wanda"s.

"I suppose n.o.body"s here, either," Gus says, looking at the dark house. He leans back and opens the door for May, who runs up the walk. "Please be here, Wanda," she whispers. She runs up to the door and knocks. No one answers. She knocks harder, and a light goes on in the hall. "Who is it?" Wanda calls.

"May," May says.

"May!" Wanda hollers. She fumbles with the door. The door opens. May hears the tires as Gus pulls the car away. She stands there in Sugar"s raincoat, with the red belt hanging down the front.

"What did they do to you? What did they do?" Wanda says. Her eyes are swollen from sleep. Her hair has been clipped into rows of neat pin curls.

"You didn"t even try to find me," May says.

"I called the house every hour!" Wanda says. "I called the police, and they wouldn"t do anything-he was your father. I did too try to find you. Look, there"s a letter from your mother. Tell me if you"re all right. Your father is crazy. He"ll never get you again after this, I know that. Are you all right, May? Talk to me." Wanda turns on the hall lamp. "Are you all right? You saw how he got you in the car. What could I do? The police told me there was nothing else I could do. Do you want your mother"s letter? What have you got on?"

May takes the letter from Wanda and turns her back. She opens the envelope and reads: "Dear May, A last letter before I drive home. I looked up some friends of your father"s here, and they asked me to stay for a couple of days to unwind, so here I am. At first I thought he might be in the closet-jump out at me for a joke! Tell Wanda that I"ve lost five pounds. Sweated it away, I guess. I"ve been thinking, honey, and when I come home I want us to get a dog. I think you should have a dog. There are some that hardly shed at all, and maybe some that just plain don"t. It would be good to get a medium-size dog-maybe a terrier, or something like that. I meant to get you a dog years ago, but now I"ve been thinking that I should still do it. When I get back, first thing we"ll go and get you a dog. Love, Mama."

It is the longest letter May has ever gotten from her mother. She stands in Wanda"s hallway, amazed.

Colorado

Penelope was in Robert"s apartment, sitting on the floor, with the newspaper open between her legs. Her boots were on the floor in front of her. Robert had just fixed the zipper of one of the boots. It was the third time he had repaired the boots, and this time he suggested that she buy a new pair. "Why?" she said. "You fix them fine every time." In many of their discussions they came close to arguments, but they always stopped short. Penelope simply would not argue. She thought it took too much energy. She had not even argued when Robert"s friend Johnny, whom she had been living with, moved out on her, taking twenty dollars of her money. Still, she hated Johnny for it, and sometimes Robert worried that even though he and Penelope didn"t argue, she might be thinking badly of him, too. So he didn"t press it. Who cared whether she bought new boots or not?

Penelope came over to Robert"s apartment almost every evening. He had met her more than a year before, and they had been nearly inseparable ever since. For a while he and Penelope and Johnny and another friend, Cyril, had shared a house in the country, not far from New Haven. They had all been in graduate school then. Now Johnny had gone, and the others were living in New Haven, in different apartments, and they were no longer going to school. Penelope was living with a man named Dan. Robert could not understand this, because Dan and Penelope did not communicate even well enough for her to ask him to fix her boots. She hobbled over to Robert"s apartment instead. And he couldn"t understand it back when she was living with Johnny, because Johnny had continued to see another girl, and had taken Penelope"s money and tried to provoke arguments, even though Penelope wouldn"t argue. Robert could understand Penelope"s moving in with Dan at first, because she hadn"t had enough money to pay her share of the house rent and Dan had an apartment in New Haven, but why had she just stayed there? Once, when he was drunk, Robert had asked her that, and she had sighed and said she wouldn"t argue with him when he"d been drinking. He had not been trying to argue. He had just wanted to know what she was thinking. But she didn"t like to talk about herself, and saying that he was drunk had been a convenient excuse. The closest he ever got to an explanation was when she told him once that it was important not to waste your energy jumping from one thing to another. She had run away from home when she was younger, and when she returned, things were only worse. She had flunked out of Bard and dropped out of Antioch and the University of Connecticut, and now she knew that all colleges were the same-there was no point in trying one after another. She had traded her Ford for a Toyota, and Toyotas were no better than Fords.

She was flipping through the newspaper, stretched out on her side on the floor, her long brown hair blocking his view of her face. He didn"t need to look at her: he knew she was beautiful. It was nice just to have her there. Although he couldn"t understand what went on in her head, he was full of factual information about her. She had grown up in Iowa. She was almost five feet nine inches tall, and she weighed a hundred and twenty-five pounds, and when she was younger, when she weighed less, she had been a model in Chicago. Now she was working as a clerk in a boutique in New Haven. She didn"t want to model again, because that was no easier than being a salesperson; it was more tiring, even if it did pay better.

"Thanks for fixing my boots again," she said, rolling up her pants leg to put one on.

"Why are you leaving?" Robert said. "Dan"s student won"t be out of there yet."

Dan was a painter who had lost his teaching job in the South. He moved to New Haven and was giving private lessons to students three times a week.