Hangings

Dropping By, Part 4

“You wanted to kill Ambrosia because Rob did all the writing of her,” Buddy said. “You got angry.”

“No. I wasn’t.”

“The plan was to have Hamstrung get her hanged.”

“That idea fucking sucked.”

“That’s what you said back then too. That might have been the first time you said fuck.”

“No it wasn’t.”

“You were pissed.”

“He was the wrong character. Hamstrung was bush league,” I said. “There was no logic to killing her.”

“Did we need logic?”

“We stopped the comics because the stories no longer had much reason to them.”

Buddy poured the contents of a small hardware store bag onto the coffee table in my living room. “I brought a hanging bracket for Ambrosia’s portrait. If you have a hammer, I’ll put it up.” The hanging bracket looked like some military piece of hardware, not just a little hook.

“What’s that? It looks like a mousetrap or something.”

“It’s for hanging a picture so that it stays straight and never falls off the wall. I thought you’d like it,” he said. “You’re always straightening my pictures when I’m not looking.”

He got up again and walked into the dining room then back towards the bedrooms and my office. He revisited the places that he had scouted earlier. He would hold up the picture on occasion, pause as if asking me what I thought and continued.

He saved my office for last. He held it up to each near blank wall. I had a couple of mirrors that would catch the candle light and reflect it back toward my seat at the desk. He took one of the mirrors down.

“Here might be good,” Buddy finally said.

I said, “I don’t want distraction here.”

“Scared of beautiful women?” he asked.

“This is where I work.”

“I don’t get it. You have a desk that belongs in a museum.”

“It’s Louis the XVI.”

“Whatever. But it seems lonely.”

“Not when I’m here.”

“This isn’t an office,” Buddy said. “It’s your desk room.”

“Don’t hang it here.”

“I want you to like where I put Ambrosia. She will be hard to move.”

“Why?”

“The hanging bracket. Hotels use these things to stop people from stealing the artwork.” He walked from my office back again to my bedroom.

The idea of hotel art permanently affixed above my bed skeeved me. I was less concerned about a picture of Ambrosia. But the way Buddy drew her, Dee would be.

Buddy said, “After it’s set up, all you need is a screwdriver.”

“OK.”

“It’s a little bit of a pain if you change pictures all the time like I do. But I thought with Ambrosia, you’d just leave it up.”

“OK.”

“Dude, you need something on your walls.”

“Somehow, I don’t think Dee would like it. You need to leave now.”

“Dee would love it. It’s you I wonder about.”

… continued

——

Dropping By

Part 4: Hangings
Part 3: Hamstrung Ambrosia
Part 2: Breakfast With Dad
Part 1: This Is Too Much