February 24, 2005
Mara is upset when she does not find David in the ski lodge's grand hall. The man can never keep a single appointment, not even one with his own wife to go see a concert. As much as he harangues others for failing to stay punctual, he's the least punctual man in history. She waits around for a few minutes, sipping brandy in front of the cobblestone fireplaces arrayed around the cedar-paneled room. As skiers fresh from the hills lounge on couches warming up, and still others bustle around the clean but dimly-lit bar at the hall's far end, Mara admires the hunting trophies on the walls and peruses informational placards about Vail's storied history. This town and this lodge have a nostalgic feel to her -- they remind her of her home. In this faraway corner of the world, she can forget her stresses and pause to appreciate the finer things in life. She can even enjoy the company of her husband. If he would ever show up...
She checks her wristwatch, and frowns. David called her just minutes prior and said that Vivian had not wanted to ski after all, that she had been too stricken with fright at the top of the hill to attempt it, and that he would be bringing her back in. Mara wanted to have an early supper with them. But they're still missing.
They're surely not back at the cabin, Mara knows, since she came from there. Nor are they anywhere in the lodge or at the bar... most likely they would not be upstairs in the pool hall or downstairs in the saunas, and David specifically said he was going to wait for her before heading for the restaurant, so where could they be? The gift shop is the only place left. She leaves her half-finished brandy on the bartop and strides with purpose towards the garishly lit shop near the lodge's entrance. So full of useless consumerist trash and so gaudy... the gift shop is the one place here Mara finds repulsive and not at all nostalgic. Her home has no analogue.
Mara's inference was right. David is here, anyway -- up by the checkout. Vivian is nowhere in sight.
"We will take care of it," David is saying into his mobile. "This is expected -- you need to quit worrying. Listen. Just breathe. I l--"
"Who are you speaking to?" Mara demands. "Where is Vivian?"
David glances up at Mara as if she just lobbed a spitball at him. He places his hand over the mouthpiece and tells her, "Renee."
Mara's face puckers. "Where is Vivian?" She repeats.
"She is around. I will be done soon." David removes his hand and begins to speak again into the phone, but Mara snatches it from him.
"My husband and I are on vacation," Mara says. "Whatever business you have with him can wait. Do not call again."
"Hi Mara," is Renee's bitterly polite response from the other end. "He called me, you know."
Mara hangs up. Just in time, anyway, because David is repossessing his phone. "Impudent woman," David says. "This business doesn't follow your personal timetable. Nor mine. Let me deal--"
Mara takes off, and now is pacing up and down the shop's aisles, so David follows her. She isn't paying him any mind while she searches for Vivian. "You let her wander off?" She says. "How could you? Vivian! Vivian, where are you?"
"Do you think she's going to get snatched up by one of our fellow millionaires? And carted out of the store's only exit, right under my nose?"
She turns on him. "Not all of the lodgers here are so wealthy," she says. "And not all of the wealthy ones are as clean as you," she adds sarcastically. "A child could go missing anyw-- Vivian!" Mara drops her browbeating of David to resume her half-harried search for her daughter, wandering through the store as she calls her name.
Although Vivian doesn't respond, Mara does eventually find her. She's standing at a row of shelves along the back wall, looking transfixed at stuffed animals.
"There you are," Mara says, pleased, as she squats down to smooth out Vivian's bubble jacket. Vivian sways slightly as Mara dotes.
"Gustav." David is on his phone again. Mara glances back at him in anger. Can he never let work be? "We have a problem developing... yes, Catachresis. I spoke with Renee a few moments ago. I need you to check some of our diagnostic tools for me..."
Mara looks back towards her daughter. "Why did you not answer when I called?"
"I did not hear you," Vivian lies.
"Bullshit," Mara says. Vivian winces -- less from the cursing and more from the harshness of Mara's tone. "You answer your parents when they call for you. Are we understood?"
"Yes mother."
Mara nods, and sighs. "Did something catch your eye?"
"Mm." Vivian points at a shelf higher than she can reach, on which sits a row of stuffed penguins.
"Would you like one?" David asks, covering his phone's mouthpiece and peering down at her. Suddenly in-tune with what's going on, just long enough to promise Vivian a gift.
"Mm."
David nods at Mara, then resumes his phone conversation. "If you think it can be idled or put in a low-power mode, I defer to your judgment. Call her parents and have them bring her in when I'm back from Vail. No -- Gustav -- now listen. This will be nothing like last time..."
"You've been a bad little girl," Mara chides, although without any force behind it. "Bad little girls shouldn't be rewarded."
"Father says I can have one." The trump card Vivian always pulls when cornered.
Mara frowns. She stands and surveys the selection of penguins. "Which color would you like? Blue, pink, purple, or black?"
"Penguins are black."
Mara often sighs in frustration at how bullheadedly literal her daughter is. Now is one of those times. "These penguins are any color you want, dear. You needn't stick to only black if you don't want to."
"Penguins are black. I want a black one."
Mara would almost like to force a purple one on her just to punish her for being so obstinate now, and for being so inattentive earlier. But she doesn't want to ruin dinner by making Vivian sullen. More sullen. She reaches for one of the black penguins.
"No," Vivian says.
"What?"
Vivian shakes her head. She points at the shelf. "The one in the back. I want him."
"Vivian, honey, they're all the same."
"No. The one in the back is special."
Mara is interested at that. Special. She doesn't know which one is "the one in the back" -- likely Vivian doesn't really know, either -- but Mara plucks one of the penguins from the back row and holds it aloft for Vivian's appraisal.
Vivian is pleased. She nods and says "mm."
Mara squats, holds the penguin at eye level with Vivian. "What is special about this one?"
"He is a king."
"Oho?"
Vivian is trying to wrest the thing from Mara's grip, so Mara lets her take it. Vivian holds the penguin close to her chest, facing out. It's about the size of her whole torso. She looks top-heavy carrying it. "He is the king of Antarctica. He got lost. I need to bring him back."
"How nice of you," Mara says. "How did he get lost?"
"He went to ski in Vail, but his friends left him behind because he doesn't like to ski and wanted to stay inside."
"Some friends."
"They were mean to him."
"If he lives in Antarctica, why did he need to come to Vail to ski?"
This is a tough one for Vivian. She thinks for a long moment. What she finally musters is just: "It's a vacation. On vacation you cannot ski at home. That is nonsense."
"It is nonsense," Mara agrees, smiling. "What shall we name him?"
"Johann."
"King Johann," Mara says, trying it on her tongue. "Cruelly deposed, but soon to be reinstalled. What an imaginative child you are."
"King?" David says, as he shoves his phone back into his coat pocket.
"Johann is king of Antarctica," Vivian tells him. She has her face pressed into the fur of Johann's head -- her nose and mouth, which muffles her responses.
"Johann doesn't like to ski either," Mara tells David, standing upright, and folding her arms.
"It frightens him," Vivian explains.
"Right," Mara says. "It led to a mishap with his kingdom."
"I see," David says.
"I will make him king again," Vivian says.
David narrows his eyes. "Kings are no good."
"Johann is good," Vivian insists.
"Precisely. So he shouldn't be a king, don't you agree?"
Vivian can't understand, and doesn't answer.
"A king is king because he was born into it," David explains. "He doesn't necessarily deserve to be king. Being king is just something given to him when he's a baby. What do you suppose is done when the king turns out bad?"
"You get a good king," Vivian tries.
"And how do you replace a bad king with a good king?" David asks.
Vivian has no answer here, either.
"The answer is war," David says. He's a little distressed that this seems to draw Vivian in rather than put her off. "Many common people die in a war. And as often as not, the bad king wins the war, and stays as king anyway -- even though he's bad. Or the people are afraid of war to begin with and don't even try. A kingdom could be ruled for many years by many bad kings in succession, one bad king passing it on to his son who is also bad, who passes it to his son who is also bad... do you see?"
"Johann is good," Vivian says again, and buries her face in Johann's fur even deeper.
"You'll upset her," Mara says.
"The world is an upsetting place. Now yes, Vivian, Johann is good. That is why I think he should be a President."
"Why President?" Vivian asks.
"A President rules with the consent of the governed. That means the people vote for him to be the President, and he has to be a good President to keep them happy. What do you suppose is done when a President is bad?"
"War?" Vivian asks. "Do they go to war against him?"
"No," David says. "They vote for someone else, and he stops being President. We had an election just a couple months ago -- do you remember?"
"Yes. You said that Bush should be the winner, and he won."
"Correct."
"Ms. Carte told me she voted for Badnarik," Vivian adds.
"Well, she threw her vote away," David says.
"We live in California," Mara laughs. "You both threw your vote away."
"Be that as it may... now suppose Bush had lost. What then?"
"War?" Vivian asks. She seems really excited about the prospect of war.
David rubs the bridge of his nose. "No... remember what I said, now. Bush would just have to stop being President, and Kerry would take over. Then in four years everyone would decide whether Kerry had been a good President, too. If Kerry lost, someone else would take over... and so on... all of it without any war."
"Why is this better than being a king?" Vivian asks.
"It's much worse than being a king!" David says. "It's harder work for less power. But having a President rule the land is much better for the people than having a king rule the land. A President works for everyone. A king only works for the king. And a President is more respectable, because he doesn't get to be President until he wins the votes of the people. A king may not deserve to be a king, but a President has, at the very least, earned his job."
"Mm," Vivian says, taking it all in.
"So I propose that Johann should be the President of Antarctica, not the king," David concludes.
"No," Vivian says, firmly rejecting David's proposal.
David is taken aback. Usually his daughter bends to his will. She learned to say no at 8 months old, but she's never said it to him. "You -- still want him to be a king, then?"
"Oh, you know little girls and fairy tales," Mara says. She relishes this moment -- Vivian showing a little backbone against David. "Her stuffed pets don't need to be turned into a civics lesson. Let her have her fantasies... they're harmless."
"Johann is trying to be President," Vivian says. "He hasn't won yet." She pulls her face away from Johann's fur, turns him around and peers at his cute little face. "He is still trying to get all the penguins to vote for him, and earn his spot as President. I want to help him win."