cwilleford.theburntorangeheresy-第26部分

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is　a　fragile　transitory　emotion。　Not　only　does　love　fall　a　good　many　years　short　of　lasting　forever；　a　long　stretch　for　love　to　last　is　a　few　months；　or　even　a　few　weeks。　If　I　think　about　my　friends　and　acquaintances　in　New　York…and　don't　consider　casual　acquaintances　I　have　known　elsewhere；　in　Palm　Beach；　for　example…I　can't　think　of　a　single　friend；　male　or　female；　who　hasn't　been　divorced　at　least　once。　And　most　of　them；　more　than　once。　The　milieu　I　live　in　is　that　way。　The　art　world　is　not　only　egocentric；　it　is　egoeccentric。　The　environment　is　not　conducive　to　lasting　friendships；　let　alone　lasting　marriages。　And　that　was　my　world　。　。　。
　　My　remaining　choice；　which　was　too　stupid　even　to　consider　seriously；　was　a　bitter　one。　I　could　have　destroyed　The　Burnt　Orange　Heresy　（such　was　the　title　I　assigned　to　the　painting）；　and　torn　up　the　article　I　had　written；　which　would　mean　that　the　greatest　opportunity　I　had　ever　had　to　make　a　name　for　myself　as　an　art　critic　would　be　lost。
　　These　thoughts　were　jumbled　together　in　my　mind　as　I　confronted　Berenice；　but　not　in　any　particular　order。　Emotionally；　I　was　only　mildly　annoyed　at　the　time；　knowing　I　had　a　major　problem　to　solve；　but　bereft；　at　least　for　the　moment；　of　any　solution。
　　〃You　may　believe　that　this　is　an　'awful'　picture；〃　I　said　coldly　to　Berenice；　〃and　it's　your　privilege　to　think　so　if；　and　the　key　word　is　if；　if　you　can　substantiate　your　opinion　with　valid　reasons　as　to　why　it's　an　'awful'　picture。　Otherwise；　you're　not　entitled　to　any　value　judgments　concerning　Debierue's　work。〃
　　〃I…I　just　can't　believe　it！〃　Berenice　said；　shaking　her　head。　〃You're　not　going　to　try　to　pass　this　off　as　a　painting　by　Debierue；　are　you？〃
　　〃It　is　a　painting　by　Debierue。　Didn't　I　just　tell　you　that　I　was　touching　it　up　a　little　because　it　was　damaged　slightly　in　transit？〃
　　〃I'm　not　blind；　James。〃　She　made　a　helpless；　fluttering　gesture　with　her　hands；　her　big　eyes　taking　in　the　evidence　of　the　art　materials　and　the　painting　itself。　〃How　do　you　expect　to　get　away　with　something　so　raw？　Don't　you　know　that　Mr。　Cassidy　will　show　this　painting　to　Debierue；　and　that…〃
　　〃Berenice！〃　I　brought　her　up　sharply。　〃You're　sticking　your　middle…western　nose　into　something　that　is　none　of　your　damned　business！　Now　get　the　hell　out　of　here；　get　packed；　and　if　you　aren't　ready　to　leave　in　twenty　minutes；　you　can　damned　well　stay　here　in　Valdosta！〃
　　Her　face　flushed；　and　she　took　two　steps　backward。　She　nodded；　nibbled　her　nether　lip；　and　nodded　again。　〃All　right！　There　is　obviously　something　going　on　that　I　don't　understand；　but　that　isn't　any　reason　to　blow　off　at　me　like　that。　You　can　at　least　explain　it　to　me。　You　can't　blame　me　for　being　bewildered；　can　you？　I　can　see　that；　well；　the　way　it　looks　is　funny；　that's　all！〃
　　I　got　up　from　the　chau　put　my　arm　around　her　shoulders；　and　gave　her　a　friendly　hug。　〃I'm　sorry；〃　I　said　gently；　〃I　shouldn't　have　woofed　at　you　like　that。　And　don't　worry。　I'll　explain　everything　to　you　in　the　car。　There's　a　good　girl。　Just　get　packed；　and　we　can　get　out　of　here　and　be　on　our　way　in　a　few　minutes。　Okay？〃
　　I　held　open　the　door。　Still　nodding　her　head；　Berenice　crossed　the　hallway　to　her　room。
　　The　moment　her　door　closed；　I　wrapped　the　art　materials　in　the　sheet；　washed　the　ashtray　palette　under　the　bathtub　hot　water　tap　and　dried　it　with　a　towel。　I　slipped　on　my　trousers　and　a　shirt；　and　took　the　painting　and　the　small　bundle　of　art　materials　down　to　the　basement　garage　on　the　elevator。　I　dumped　the　bundle　in　a　garbage　can；　and　placed　the　painting　carefully；　wet　side　up；　in　the　trunk　of　my　car。　It　took　another　three　minutes　to　unfasten　the　canvas　covertible　top；　fold　it　back；　and　snap　the　fasteners　of　the　plastic　cover。　It　would　be　chilly　riding　with　the　top　back　at　this　time　of　night；　but　I　could　put　it　up　again　later。　The　night　garage　attendant；　a　young　black　man　wearing　white　overalls；　stood　in　the　doorway　of　the　small；　lighted　office；　watching　me　silently　as　I　struggled　with　the　top。　Finished；　I　crossed　the　garage；　handed　him　a　quarter；　and　told　him　I　was　checking　out。
　　〃Call　the　desk；　please；〃　I　said；　〃and　tell　the　clerk　to　send　a　bellman　with　a　truck　to　get　our　baggage　in　five…ten　and　fiveoh…five　in　about　fifteen　minutes。　Tell　the　bellman　to　pile　it　on　the　back　seat　when　he　es　down。　The　trunk　is　already　filled　with　other　things。〃
　　〃Yes；　sir；〃　he　said。
　　I　returned　to　my　room；　packed　in　less　than　five　minutes；　pulled　a　sleeveless　sweater　on　over　my　shirt；　and　slipped　into　my　sports　coat。　Berenice　wasn't　ready　yet；　but　I　helped　her　dose　her　suitcases；　and　advised　her　to　wear　her　warm　polo　coat　over　her　slack　suit。　The　bellman　came　with　his　truck；　and　when　we　got　off　at　the　lobby　to　check　out；　he　continued　on　down　to　the　basement　to　put　our　luggage　in　the　car。　Berenice　paid　the　bill；　which　was　surprisingly　reasonable；　by　cashing　two　traveler's　checks；　and　the　bellman　had　the　car　out　in　front　for　us　before　we　had　finished　checking　out。　The　night　deskman　didn't　ask　questions　about　why　we　were　leaving　in　the　middle　of　the　night；　and　I　didn't　volunteer　any　information。
　　The　night　air　was　chilly　when　we　got　into　the　car；　and　there　was　a　light；　misty　fog　hovering　fifty　feet　or　so　above　the　deserted　city　streets。　I　lit　two　cigarettes；　handed　Berenice　one　of　them；　and　pulled　away　from　the　curb。　She　shivered　slightly　and　huddled　down　in　her　seat。
　　〃You're　probably　wondering　why　I　put　the　top　back；〃　I　said。
　　〃Yes；　I　am。　But　after　the　way　you　barked　at　me　last　time；　I'm　almost　afraid　to　ask　any　questions。〃
　　I　laughed　and　patted　her　leg。　〃If　it　gets　too　cold；　I'll　put　it　up　again。　But　I　thought　it　would　be　best　to　get　as　much　fresh　air　as　possible　to　keep　myself　awake。　It　isn't　really　cold；　and　there　won't　be　much　traffic　this　time　of　night；　so　we　should　make　fairly　good　time。〃
　　Berenice　accepted　this　moronic　explanation；　and　I　increased　the　speed　the　moment　we　got　out　of　the　downtown　area　and　onto　the　new　four…lane　highway　that　was　still　bordered　by　residential　streets　containing　two…　and　three…story　houses。
　　From　my　examination　of　the　map　I　knew　that　there　were　several　small　lakes　between　Valdosta　and　Tifton；　and　a　few　pine　reserves　as　well；　first…　and　second…growth　forests　to　feed　the　Augusta　paper　mills。　Most　of　the　rich；　red　land　was　cultivated；　however…tobacco；　for　the　major　crop；　but　also　with　melons；　corn；　peas；　or　anything　else　that　a　farmer　wanted　to　grow；　including　flax。　East　of　Valdosta　was　the　Great　Okefenokee　Swamp；　which　filled　a　large　section　of　southeast　Georgia；　and　there　were　many　small　lakes；　streams；　and　brooks　that　filtered　well…silted　water　into　the　swamp。
　　I　was　unfamiliar　with　the　highway　and　the　countryside；　and　I　didn't　know　precisely　what　I　was　looking　for；　other　than　a　grove　of　pines；　a　finger　of　swamp；　and　a　rarely　used　access　road。　I　slowed　down　considerably　a　few　miles　north　of　Valdosta；　as　soon　as　I　was　in　open　country　with　only　widely　scattered　farmhouses；　and　I　began　to　keep　my　eyes　open　for　side　roads　leading　nowhere。　Berenice；　who　had　been　as　silent　as　a　martyr；　and　suffering　from　my　silence　as　well；　finally　had　to　open　her　mouth。
　　〃Well？〃　she　said。
　　〃Well；　what？〃
　　〃I'm　waiting　for　the　explanation；　that's　what。　You　said　you'd　explain；　what　are　you　waiting　for？〃
　　〃I've　been　thinking　things　over；　Berenice；　and　I'm　beginning　to　e　to　my　senses。　You　really　don't　think　it　would　be　a　good　idea；　do　you；　to　send　that　painting　to　Mr。　Cassidy？〃
　　〃That's　your　business；　James。　It　isn't　up　to　me　to　tell　you　what　to　do；　but　if　you're　asking　me　for　an　opinion　I'd　say　no。　But　as　you　said；　I　don't　know　all　there　is　to　know　about　what　it　is　you're　trying　to　do…so　until　I　do；　I'll　keep　my　long　'middle…western　nose'　out　of　your　business。〃
　　〃I　apologized　for　that；　sweetheart。〃
　　〃That's　all　right。　I　know　that　my　nose　fits　my　face。　What　does　bother　me　though　is　that　I've　been　more　or　less　forced　to　think　that　you　set　fire　to　Debierue's　house。〃
　　〃Me？〃　I　laughed。　〃What　makes　you　think　I'd　do　something　like　that？〃
　　〃Well；　for　one　thing；　you　didn't　show　any　surprise；〃　she　said　shrewdly；　〃when　I　told　you　about　the　news　of　the　fire　on　television。
　　〃Why　should　I　be　surprised？　His　vifia　in　France　burned　down；　too。　It　does　surprise　me；　however；　that　you　would　think　that　I　did　it。〃
　　〃Then　tell　me　that　you　didn't　do　it；　and　I'll　believe　you。〃
　　〃What　would　my　motive　be　for　doing　such　a　thing？〃
　　〃Why　not　give　me　a　simple　yes　or　no？〃
　　〃There　are　no　simple　yes　or　no　answers　in　this　world；　Big　Girl…none　that　I've　ever　found。　There　are　only　qualified　yes　and　no　answers；　and　not　many　of　them。〃
　　〃All　right；　James；　I　can't　think　of　a　valid　motive；　to　use　one　of　your　favorite　words；　'valid；　but　I　can　think　of　a　motive　that　you　might　consider　valid。　I　think　you've　faked　an　article　about　some　paintings　that　Debierue　was　supposed　to　paint；　but　didn't　paint。　You　looked　at　the　paintings　he　did　paint　and　didn't　like　them；　probably　because　they　didn't　meet　your　high　standards　of　what　you　thought　they　should　be；　so　you　burned　them　by　setting　fire　to　the　house。　You　then　invented　some　nonexistent　paintings　of　your　own　and　wrote　about　them　instead。〃
　　〃Jesus；　do　you　realize　how　crazy　that　sounds？〃
　　〃Yes；　I　do。　But　you　can　show　me　how　crazy　it　is　by　letting　me　read　the　article　you　wrote。　If　there's　no　mention　of　that　weird　orange…〃
　　〃Burnt　orange…〃
　　〃All　right；　burnt　orange　painting　in　your　article；　then　you　can　easily　prove　me　wrong。　I'll　apologize；　and　that'll　be　that。〃
　　〃That'll　be　that；　just　like　that？　And　then　you'll　expect　me　to　forgive　your　wild　accusation　as　if　you'd　never　made　it；　right？〃
　　〃I　said　that　I　might　be　wrong；　and　I　sincerely　hope　that　I　am。　It's　easy　enough　to　prove　me　wrong；　isn't　it？　What　I　do　know　though；　and　there's　nothing　you　can　ever　say　to　persuade　me　that　I'm　wrong；　is　that　Debierue　never　painted　that　picture　in　your　hotel　room。　You　painted　it。　It　was　still　wet　when　I　touched　it…including　Debierue's　signature。　And　the　only　reason　I　can　possibly　e　up　with　for　you　to　do　such　a　thing　is　because　you　want　to　write　about　it；　and　pass　it　off　as　Debierue's　work。　I…I　don't　know　what　to　think；　James；　the　whole　thing　has　given　me　a