Part 21 (1/2)

'If they're all like him him,' said Ronda Ray, and rolled her eyes - but she didn't continue; she decided to let it pa.s.s.

'I think he's cute,' said Lilly.

But Fritz of Fritz's Act gave Egg nightmares - great shrieks that stiffened my back and tore muscles in my neck; Egg's arm lashed out and bashed the bedside lamp, his legs thrashed under the sheets, as if the bedclothes were drowning him.

'Egg!' I cried. 'It's just a dream! You're having a dream!'

'A what what?' he screamed.

'A dream!' I yelled.

'Midgets!' Egg shouted. 'They're under the bed! They're crawling all around! They're all over, everywhere!' he howled.

'Jesus G.o.d,' Father said. 'If they're just midgets, why does he get so upset?'

'Hush,' Mother said, ever fearful of hurting Lilly's little feelings.

And I lay under the barbell in the morning, sneaking a look at Franny getting out of bed - or getting dressed - and thinking of Iowa Bob. What would he have said about going to Vienna? About Freud's hotel that somehow needed needed a smart Harvard boy? About the differences a smart bear might make - to a smart Harvard boy? About the differences a smart bear might make - to anyone's anyone's prospects for success? I lifted and thought. 'It doesn't matter,' Iowa Bob would have said. 'Whether we go to Vienna or stay here, it won't matter.' Under all that weight, that's what I thought Coach Bob would have said. 'Here or there,' Bob would have said, 'we're screwed down for life.' It would be prospects for success? I lifted and thought. 'It doesn't matter,' Iowa Bob would have said. 'Whether we go to Vienna or stay here, it won't matter.' Under all that weight, that's what I thought Coach Bob would have said. 'Here or there,' Bob would have said, 'we're screwed down for life.' It would be Father's Father's hotel - whether in Dairy or in Vienna. Would nothing, ever, make us more or less exotic than we were? I wondered, with the weight wonderfully taut and rising, and Franny in the corner of my eye. hotel - whether in Dairy or in Vienna. Would nothing, ever, make us more or less exotic than we were? I wondered, with the weight wonderfully taut and rising, and Franny in the corner of my eye.

'I wish you'd take those weights to another room,' Franny said. 'So I can get dressed by myself, sometimes - for Christ's sake.'

'What do you think about going to Vienna, Franny?' I asked her.

'I think it will be more sophisticated than staying here,' Franny said. Completely dressed now, and always so sure of herself, she looked down at me where I struggled to let my bench press down slowly and levelly. 'I might even get a room without barbells in it,' she added. 'Even one without a weight lifter in it,' Franny said, blowing lightly into the armpit of my left (and weaker) arm - and getting out of the way when the weights slid first to the left, then to the right, off the bar.

'Jesus G.o.d!' Father shouted upstairs to me, and I thought that if Iowa Bob had still been with us, he would have said that Franny was wrong. Whether Vienna was more sophisticated, or less - whether Franny had a room with barbells or a room with lace - we were inhabitants of one Hotel New Hamps.h.i.+re after another.

Freud's hotel - or our imperfect picture of Freud's hotel, via air mail - was called the Gasthaus Freud; it was unclear, from Freud's correspondence, whether or not the other Freud had ever stayed there. We only knew it was 'centrally located,' according to Freud - 'in the First District!' - but in the all-grey black-and-white photograph that Freud sent, we could barely make out the iron double door, sandwiched between the display cases of a land of candy store. KONDITOREI, said one sign; ZUCKERWAREN, said another; SCHOKOLADEN, promised a third; and over it all - bigger than the faded letters saying, GASTHAUS FREUD - was the word BONBONS.

'What?' said Egg.

'Bonbons,' said Franny. 'Oh boy.'

'Which is the door to the candy store, and which is the door to the hotel?' Frank asked; Frank would always think like a doorman.

'I think you have to live there to know,' Franny said.

Lilly got a magnifying gla.s.s and deciphered the name of the street, in funny script, under the street number on the hotel's double door.

'Krugerstra.s.se,' she decided, which at least matched the name of the street in Freud's address. Father bought a map of Vienna from a travel agency and we located Krugerstra.s.se - in the First District, as Freud had promised; it appeared very central.

'It's only a block or two from the opera!' Frank cried, enthusiastically.

'Oh boy,' Franny said.

The map had little green areas for parks, thin red and blue lines where the streetcars ran, and ornate buildings - grossly out of proportion to the street - to indicate the places of interest.

'It looks like a kind of Monopoly board,' Lilly said.

We noted cathedrals, museums, the town hall, the university, the Parliament.

'I wonder where the gangs hang out,' said Junior Jones, looking over the streets with us.

The gangs gangs?' said Egg. 'The who who?'

'The tough guys,' said Junior Jones. 'The guys with guns and blades, man.'

'The gangs,' Lilly repeated, and we stared at the map as if the streets would indicate their darkest alleys to us.

'This is Europe Europe,' Frank said, with disgust. 'Maybe there aren't aren't gangs.' gangs.'

'It's a city, isn't it?' Junior Jones said.

But on the map it looked like a toy city, to me - with pretty places of interest, and all the green spots where nature had been arranged for pleasure.

'Probably in the parks,' said Franny, biting her lower lip. The gangs hang out in the parks.'

's.h.i.+t,' I said.

'There won't be any gangs!' Frank cried. 'There will be music! And pastry! And the people do a lot of bowing, and they dress differently!' We stared at him, but we knew he'd been reading up on Vienna; he'd gotten a head start on the books Father kept bringing home.

'Pastry and music and people bowing bowing all the time, Frank?' Franny said. 'Is that what it's like?' Lilly was using her magnifying gla.s.s on the map now - as if people would spring to life, in miniature, on the paper; and they'd either be bowing, and dressed differently, or they'd be cruising in gangs. all the time, Frank?' Franny said. 'Is that what it's like?' Lilly was using her magnifying gla.s.s on the map now - as if people would spring to life, in miniature, on the paper; and they'd either be bowing, and dressed differently, or they'd be cruising in gangs.

'Well,' Franny said. 'At least we can be pretty sure there won't be any black black gangs.' Franny was still angry with Junior Jones for sleeping with Ronda Ray. gangs.' Franny was still angry with Junior Jones for sleeping with Ronda Ray.

's.h.i.+t,' Junior said. 'You better hope there are black gangs. Black gangs are the best gangs, man. Those white gangs have inferiority complexes,' Junior said. 'And there's nothing worse than a gang with an inferiority complex.'

'A what what?' said Egg. No doubt he thought that an inferiority complex was a weapon; sometimes, I guess, it is is.

'Well, I think it's going to be nice,' said Frank, grimly.

'Yes, it will will be,' Lilly said, with a humourlessness akin to Frank's. be,' Lilly said, with a humourlessness akin to Frank's.

'I can't see it,' Egg said, seriously. 'I can't see it, so I don't know what what it's going to be like.' it's going to be like.'

'It'll be okay,' Franny said. 'I don't think it's going to be great, but it'll be all right.'

It was odd, but Franny seemed the most influenced by Iowa Bob's philosophy - which, to a degree, had become Father's philosophy. This was odd because Franny was frequently the most sarcastic to Father - and the most sarcastic about Father's plans. Yet when she was raped, Father had said to her - incredibly incredibly! I thought - that when he he had a bad day, he tried to see if he could construe it as the luckiest day of his life. 'Maybe this is the luckiest day of your life,' he had said to her; I was amazed that she seemed to find this reverse thinking useful. She was a had a bad day, he tried to see if he could construe it as the luckiest day of his life. 'Maybe this is the luckiest day of your life,' he had said to her; I was amazed that she seemed to find this reverse thinking useful. She was a kind of parrot of other tidbits of Father's philosophy. 'It was just a little event among so many,' I heard her say - to Frank, about scaring Iowa Bob to death. And once, about Chipper Dove, I heard Father say, 'He probably has a most unhappy life.' Franny actually agreed with him! kind of parrot of other tidbits of Father's philosophy. 'It was just a little event among so many,' I heard her say - to Frank, about scaring Iowa Bob to death. And once, about Chipper Dove, I heard Father say, 'He probably has a most unhappy life.' Franny actually agreed with him!

I felt much more nervous about going to Vienna than Franny seemed to feel, and I was ever conscious of what feelings Franny and I didn't absolutely share - because it mattered to me that I stay close to her.

We all knew that Mother thought the idea was crazy, but we could not ever make her disloyal to Father - although we tried.

'We won't understand the language,' Lilly said to Mother.

'The what what?' Egg cried.

'The language!' Lilly said. 'They speak German in Vienna.'

'You'll all go to an English-speaking school,' Mother said.