Читать книгу The Crash of Hennington - Patrick Ness - Страница 14

The speakerphone on Cora’s desk crackled.

—Mayor?

—What can I do for you, Adam?

—The Arboretum just called.

—Let me guess. The Crash bruised a blade of grass and molested a squirrel.

—More like trampled a rare species of terrestrial phalaenopsis. The botanists are screaming about irreplaceability.

—Adam?

—Yes, Mayor.

—'Terrestrial phalaenopsis'?

—That’s what they said.

—They couldn’t say ‘orchid', like normal folk?

—I guess they figured you’d know.

—On the basis of nothing.

—What should I tell them?

—That they shouldn’t have planted terrestrial phalaenopsi where one hundred rhinoceros could tread on them.

—Well, they are terrestrial phalaenopsis.

—And it is an equally terrestrial Crash. Surely there are paths The Crash doesn’t take. The botanists can plant their orchids there.

—I think all they want is a fence.

—In whose lifetime do they see that happening? The Arboretum’s been an open park for ninety years. That’s not going to change on my watch just because a bunch of botanists are crying over orchids.

—I like orchids.

—I have another call, Adam. Issue settled.

She released his line and pressed another flashing light.

—Yes?

—Deputy Mayor Latham on the line.

—Put him through. Max? Make me happy.

—Unlikely, I’m afraid.

—You can’t make the fundraiser.

—I can’t make the fundraiser.

—This is my thought, right this second: ‘Why do I even bother?’

—Talon is sick.

—Oh. Well, all right then. What’s wrong with her?

—Battery Pox.

—Poor thing. Started the shots?

—We’re driving home from the doctor’s office right now. She’ll be fine. She’s just throwing up all over everything.

—And a sitter is out of the question?

—Cora …

—All right, all right, all right, I’m civilized. I’ll just have to work myself up for a sparring match with Archie Banyon.

—He can’t be too upset if I have a sick daughter.

—He won’t be upset at you. He’ll be upset at me.

—You can handle Archie Banyon.

—I know I can handle Archie Banyon. Doesn’t mean I look forward to it. Where are you now?

—Driving down Eighth. Just about to cross Medford.

—Look out for The Crash. They’re around there somewhere.

—The Arboretum called, didn’t they?

—I don’t want to talk about it.

—Sorry about tonight.

—I don’t want to talk about it.

But she did.

—How can you expect to be elected if I do all your campaigning for you?

—You got elected four times. Why fix something that’s not broke?

—Don’t be cavalier. They’re not going to make you Mayor just because I tell them to.

—They might.

—Well, yes, they might, but still, Max—

—I’ll make it up to you.

—So you say. Are you even going to vote?

—Mercer Tunnel. Breaking up. Gotta go.

—Liar.

She cut him off and pressed a private speed dial.

—We’re flying solo tonight.

—Hi, sweetest. Max pulled out again?

—Yep.

—How does he expect to get your job if he never shows up to anything? Politics is nasty and brutish, but you at least have to play at it.

—Talon’s got Battery Pox. Apparently, she’s vomiting everywhere.

—How vivid. All right, whatever, we’ll pull in the dough for him once more.

—He says thanks.

—No, he doesn’t, but at least he means it.

As was his wont, Albert disconnected without saying goodbye. Cora dialed her secretary.

—Angie, get me Archie Banyon on the phone, please.

—Max canceled again, didn’t he?

—Just get Archie on the phone and let me out of my misery.

She clicked off and saw lines lighting up as Angie tracked down Archie Banyon. Cora steeled herself. He would let her off, but he wouldn’t do it without making her pay.