"You don't think he's... plotting revenge, or anything?"
Stu smiled and stood up. "No, not Harold. Glen thinks the Opposition Party may just end up coming together around Harold. That's okay. I just hope he doesn't try to f**k up what we're doing now."
"Just remember that he's scared and lonely."
"And jealous."
"Jealous?" She considered it, then shook her head. "I don't think so - I really don't. I've talked to him, and I think I'd know. He may be feeling rejected, though. I think he expected to be on the ad hoc committee - "
"That was one of Nick's unilateral - is that the word? - decisions that we all went along with. What it came down to was that none of us quite trusted him."
"In Ogunquit," she said, "he was the most insufferable kid you could imagine. A lot of it was compensation for his family situation, I guess... to them it must have seemed like he had hatched from a cowbird egg or something... but after the flu, he seemed to change. At least to me, he did. He seemed to be trying to be, well... a man. Then he changed again. Like all at once. He started to smile all the time. You couldn't really talk to him anymore. He was... in himself. The way people get when they convert to religion or read - " She stopped suddenly, and her eyes took on a momentary startled look that seemed very like fear.
"Read what?" Stu asked.
"Something that changes their lives," she said. "Das Kapital. Mein Kampf. Or maybe just intercepted love letters."
"What are you talking about?"
"Hmm?" She looked around at him, as if startled out of a deep daydream. Then she smiled. "Nothing. Weren't you going to go see Larry Underwood?"
"Sure... if you're okay."
"I'm better than okay - I'm ultimately fine. Go on. Shoo. Meeting's at seven. If you hurry, you've got just enough time to get back here for some supper before."
"All right."
He was at the gate which separated the front yard from the back when she called after him: "Don't forget to ask him what he thought of Harold."
"Don't worry," Stu said, "I won't."
"And watch his eyes when he answers, Stuart."
When Stu asked casually about his impression of Harold (at this point Stu had not mentioned the vacancy on the ad hoc committee at all), Larry Underwood's eyes grew both wary and puzzled.
"Fran told you about my fixation on Harold, huh?"
"Yep."
Larry and Stu were in the living room of a small Table Mesa tract house. Out in the kitchen Lucy was rattling dinner together, heating canned stuff on a brazier grill Larry had rigged for her. It ran off bottled gas. She was singing snatches of "Honky Tonk Women" as she worked, and she sounded very happy.
Stu lit a cigarette. He was down to no more than five or six a day; he didn't fancy having Dick Ellis operating on him for lung cancer.
"Well, all the time I was following Harold I kept telling myself he probably wouldn't be like I pictured him. And he wasn't, but I'm still trying to figure out what it is about him. He was pleasant as hell. A good host. He cracked the bottle of wine I brought him and we toasted each other's good health. I had a good time. But..."
"But?"
"We came up behind him. Leo and me. He was putting a brick wall around this flower garden and he whirled around... didn't hear us coming until I spoke up, I guess... and for a minute there I'm saying to myself, 'Holy God, this dude is gonna kill me.'"
Lucy came into the doorway. "Stu, can you stay for dinner? There's plenty."
"Thanks, but Frannie expects me back. I can only stay fifteen minutes or so."
"Sure?"
"Next time, Lucy, thanks."
"Okay." She went back into the kitchen.
"Did you come just to ask about Harold?" Larry asked.
"No," Stu said, coming to a decision. "I came to ask if you'd serve on our little ad hoc committee. One of the other guys, Dick Ellis, had to say no."
"Like that, is it?" Larry went to the window and looked out on the silent street. "I thought I could go back to being a private again."
"Your decision, of course. We need one more. You were recommended."
"By who, if you don't mind me - "
"We asked around. Frannie seems to think you're pretty level. And Nick Andros talked - well, he doesn't talk, but you know - to one of the men that came in with you. Judge Farris."
Larry looked pleased. "The Judge gave me a recommendation, huh? That's great. You know, you ought to have him. He's smart as the devil."
"That's what Nick said. But he's also seventy, and our medical facilities are pretty primitive."
Larry turned to look at Stu, half smiling. "This committee isn't quite as temporary as it looks on the face of it, is it?"
Stu smiled and relaxed a little. He still hadn't really decided how he felt about Larry Underwood, but it was clear enough the man hadn't fallen off a hayrick yesterday. "We-ell, let's put it this way. We'd like to see our committee stand for election to a full term."