Oh Pure and Radiant Heart by Lydia Millet (shoe dog free ebook .txt) 📕

out the window and sipping.

They sat in silence.

—All right, said Szilard finally.

—Hey guys, said Tamika, head in the door. —Wanna try out the jacuzzi?

They shook their heads and she was gone again.

—I used to swim in the ocean off St. John, mused Oppenheimer. —The water was so warm. There were seagrass beds like underwater prairies, and striped fish swimming in them. At the bottom you’d see these big brown rays with rippling wings, just gliding through the waving seaweed. You wanted to go with them. You wanted to be them.

—I forget to tell you! said Szilard. —Look what the courier brought!

He picked up a mailing tube, pulled out a poster and unrolled it: a red-and-black mushroom cloud looming ominously over a sepia-toned landscape.

—That’ll really inspire them, Leo, said Oppenheimer.

—No, wait! It’s three-D!

He turned the poster so that the light fell on it from a different angle, revealing the his own face larger than life. Beside it was Oppenheimer’s and then Fermi’s, the three of them fading into perspective where the mushroom cloud had been.

—Oh my God, said Ann.

—It’s outrageous, said Oppenheimer.

—Get outta here, said Szilard. —It’s great. Are you kidding?

—Must have been expensive, huh? said Oppenheimer.

Szilard shrugged.

—This friend of Larry’s designed it. See? It’s three-D! And we’ve got more of them coming!

—What for? asked Oppenheimer, amused. —It’s very creative, but why would we need more than one?

—We ordered ten thousand.

—What?

—We’re going to be selling them.

—Leo. Are you crazy? Larry bankrolled this?

—It was his idea!

—How about the souvenir concert T-shirts, said Ann.

—They’re coming, said Szilard earnestly.

—I’m speechless, said Oppenheimer.

—So you’re going to be putting on shows? asked Ann.

—Speaking engagements. Press conferences. Demonstrations. We’re also building a web site.

He rocked back on his heels and unfurled the poster in front of him once again, nodding at the depiction of his own face, which worse a benevolent expression. Behind his back Ann and Oppenheimer looked at each other and smiled.

We Are the World, said Ben when she had a chance to call him unobserved. —Next he’s going to start shooting videos for MTV. Scientists hugging each other and swaying in front of the mikes.

—And then a friend of Tamika’s who’s a bouncer from her stripper days showed up, and Larry hired him to head the private security team. He’s supposedly nonviolent. He told me he refuses to raise a hand in anger. He’s such a giant no one ever stands up to him. He’s like seven-feet something.

—If I know Leo they’ll need more security than that. I don’t even work for the government, and I want to kill him.

—How’s Fermi?

—He’s coming to work with me tomorrow.

—Pardon?

—He’s my new employee.

There was a stretch limousine pulled up at the curb, and with Big Glen covering Oppenheimer they all surged out the hotel lobby and headed for the limousine’s open door. —Lloyd George Federal Building! barked Szilard at the chauffeur as they pulled away from the curb.

—Whatcha gonna do there, man, drawled Clint.

—Recruiting, said Szilard.

Around the federal building there were police cars parked, and cops stood idly talking, arms crossed. On the hot cement hippies lay sprawled.

Ann stared out the limo’s rolled-down window.

—It’s a die-in, said Szilard.

—Excuse me? asked Oppenheimer.

—You know, like a sit-in? Except the protesters act dead.

—That’s so cool! said Tamika, reaching for the door to the minibar.

—What’s it for? asked Larry.

—It’s an antinuclear protest! exclaimed Szilard. —What did you think? Just a minute. Wait here!

He grabbed a file folder and bounded out the door to run over to a man in a pink shirt and long beard, who lay near them on his back with his arms and legs spread. Szilard crouched over, talking to him.

—I didn’t know they even had those protests anymore, said Clint. —I thought they went out with Ronald Reagan. But hey man, it’s cool.

—It’s so great, isn’t it? said Leslie.

—They must be roasting, said Tamika. —I mean what is it, a hundred and five out there? Leslie. You want some of this Perrier?

Ann watched Szilard distribute fliers among the dead. When he had got rid of all of them he waved at the cops and headed back to the car.

—He’s enthusiastic, isn’t he, said Oppenheimer to Larry.

—The guy’s a whirling dervish! said Clint, sitting behind Larry and Tamika far back in the cavern of the seats.

—He’s very energetic, said Big Glen in his deep, ponderous voice, and nodded slowly.

—Why don’t we invite the dead people out to dinner when they’re done? asked Tamika. —I mean we’re all in this together!

—Please, said Oppenheimer, —I’d like an intimate meal for once, if you don’t mind. Just the fourteen of us.

—So, said Szilard, plumping down heavily and slamming the car door behind him before the chauffeur could get up, —how do you play roulette?

Fermi was not concerned about “wages,” as he called them. His wages could improve as his work did. In the meantime he offered to work for room and board. He owed them already, he said, as Ben drove him to buy fertilizer.

They turned into the parking lot of the plant nursery. Walking into the building they passed a purple Volkswagen Bug, parked at a slant in a handicapped space, and there she was, big hair flying, face obscured by an armful of ferns.

—Oh no, said Ben under his breath. —It’s Sheila. She’s a friend of my wife’s.

—Benny!

—Sheila.

—It’s been so long since I saw you!

She swooped down on them despite the plants in front of her face, long earrings swinging, wearing a shirt with a lot going on. Then her arms were around him, the ferns brushing the backs of his ears, their plastic pots crunching against his back.

—What have you guys been up to? I’ve barely seen Annie since you know when!

—You know when?

—The shooting, she whispered.

—We’re all friends here, said Ben mildly. —You can talk in a normal voice.

—Oh! Right! So who’s this?

As she drew back a fern toppled off her arm, spilling dirt onto the ground and her shoes. Fermi grabbed it.

—He works with me, said Ben.

—He works with you? asked Sheila. —He looks like more