Goodreads
del.icio.us
"Do you think we could sue?"
Pellatier was little interested in this great American sport but still obliged himself to respond to the "man who would be Frank Weathers."
"The column is becoming more successful. I believe there is a book. He's going to be interviewed by Time or Newsweek. However, I'm not sure the ‘Sardine' is worth much."
"Won't he be on television, eventually?"
"I don't know," Pellatier shrugged. "Do you have any idea who is doing this to you?"
"Not really."
"You wouldn't know who to sue."
"The website."
"It doesn't have any money. Besides, you're not the only one in the column."
"I should read a few, maybe I'll recognize some of the characters."
The "man who would be Frank Weathers" met Pelletier a week later and, indeed, had recognized three or four of the people, not including Benny McSelf: namely, Joe. T., McNulty and Honey, and Wal-terr. Very accurate descriptions, Joe. T. most of all, and McNulty a close second. After discussing the qualities of hairpieces over plugs, he told Pelletier where these other people could be found.
The "man who was Wal- terr" no longer lived at the shore and had virtually disappeared. Someone said —who was it?— the guy was studying to become an actor. The "man who was McNulty" only came to the Princeton Lounge during the last two weeks of July. There was little chance of meeting him until next year. Joe T., who worked here for twenty years, had started as a dishwasher, then became a busboy before moving on to bartender. He didn't come around anymore. His new girlfriend wouldn't let him drink or hang out with his old buddies. It must be a serious relationship.
"Why would you want to meet them?" asked the "man who would be Frank."
"I'm looking specifically for the Sardine."
"They probably don't know him if I don't."
"You're sure you don't?"
"Very few of my friends read, let alone write. I knew someone who had a few funny anecdotes published in Reader's Digest."
"Did anyone know the Wal-terr guy very well?"
"I think I heard about him from. . .I just can't think of his name."
"Try to remember. Whoever told you that Wal-terr was going to acting school might have followed his life closely enough to write about it."
"Sorry."
"I'll be in and out of the place."
"This Sardine ever describe himself?"
"Just a guy. No distinguishing features."
*
Two weeks later he ran into the "man who would be Frank Weathers" in another bar.
"Any luck?" he asked Pellatier. "Did you try the Rocking Chair?"
"I tracked down the McNulty character and telephoned him. He's an insurance agent."
"Just like my character."
"You are an insurance adjuster. He tried to sell me a term-life policy."
"Did he know the Sardine?"
"I think he did, but he wasn't talking. They're probably friends."
"I think I know who," the "man who would be Frank" cried out. Then he backed off a little. "I have a hunch."
"Who? Is he here?" Pelletier asked, his heart racing.
"No. But the person who told me about the Wal-terr character was McNulty!"
It made sense. The intimate details of "Social Pets" and McNulty's marriage could only have been given by the man himself. McNullty was the most literate of the crew. In fact, didn't the Sardine credit McNulty with the "social pets" idea originally?
Pellatier had spoken to "the man who would be McNulty" for a half-hour. He seemed exactly the same as had been depicted in the columns. Around seventy. Spoke hesitantly but in complete sentences. What was a guy that old selling insurance policies for? To throw Pellatier off the scent?
No, the Sardine couldn't be "the man who was McNulty."
An insurance agent writing polished articles and having so many contrarian ideas was unthinkable! The Sardine had the voice of a younger man. Nor did "the man who was McNulty" sound overly bitter or sarcastic.
The "man who would be McNulty" complained for half their conversation about a back ailment, a recent sinus operation, and the regimen of Tylenols and Percosets needed to deal with these and other ailments. His heart was racing all the time. He couldn't sleep. He was getting an MRI the next day. Would the person subverting the Health Utopia allow his life to be ruled by the pain-drug cycle? Or were the "Utopia" articles his way of striking back at his involuntary dependence and physical decline?
Further, the man's habits, like waking at noon and staying awake until dawn, were more a writer's than an insurance agent's. Writers also cultivated eccentricities, such as exaggerated smoking routines and stylizations of behavior. The Sardine realized how much these "pet" behaviors irritated everyone. Because he could no longer change these habits he did the next best thing and purged them by writing about them.
"No," interrupted the "man who would be Frank," "he can barely write a letter and doesn't own a word processor."
"How do you think the Wal-terr thing connects to McNulty?" asked Pellatier.
"Someone told McNulty."
"That doesn't get us anywhere. How do we know who McNulty spoke to?"
"There's one person I know he's talked to."
"It can't be Honey."
"No, I was thinking. . .the McNulty character had mentioned several times that his son had articles published in magazines."
Eureka!
Bob Castle is the author of A Sardine on Vacation. He has had two other books published this year: The End of Travel, a comic memoir and send up of traveling abroad (Triple Press) and Odd Pursuits, a collection of stories (Wild Child Publishing). He is regular writer for Bright Lights Film Journal and has over one hundred fifty stories, essays, and articles published. The first fifteen installments of his saga can be viewed at the old Unlikely Stories. A Sardine on Vacation is also available in book form.