The Curious Case of Moses Coat.
By Emma Button.
1.
It was Friday and Maud went to see a movie. She wanted to see ‘Valkyrie’, or, if not this, ‘Revolutionary Road’, but both started in an hour – too late. The Curious Case of Moses Coat started next – in ten minutes.
- What time does it finish? – she asked the boy at the counter.
- 11.45 – he said. It’s a three hour movie.
- Oh – she gasped. – What a marathon. Is it really this good?
- - Very enjoyable – the boy answered. – Obviously, he was paid to say things like this this, but it did influence her decision and she got herself a ticket. In fact, she decided, in advance, may to leave early if she will be bored. She could always watch a DVD later or just imagine what it would be like.
She sat there for two hours and, as expected, felt bored. We end up feeling what we know we’d be feeling. What is it like for them, she wondered, the rest of the people in the theatre? For a teenager? Or somebody who’s never seen an exceptional child? Do they remember other flicks on the subject? Jack? Or, better, Big? Or maybe, they know Fitzgerald’s story and it makes it likeable for them? She herself didn’t know the story and decided to read it.
As she read the story that she got from a library, she still wondered. What is Pam Bleachett, who played the main character, really like? There was little to go by, except her face, that, of course, she didn’t like. She looked and sounded more like somebody in charge of an institution, than an actress. And she certainly didn’t like ballet and ballerinas. But what reasonable woman in her thirties does like ballet, honestly? She recalled a couple of shots from the movie where Bleachett lifted her leg really high and realized that it couldn’t be her. She wouldn’t. And couldn’t, of course.
Maud sat at the table and read Fitzgerald on and on. Automatically, she noticed where the story was different from what she has just seen. It happened in America’s South – she couldn’t tell why, but felt it was significant to whoever has chosen it. It started just before the Civil war, in 1860. There was no black couple of adoptive parents, although the poor father did wish it was black. There was no brothel in the story, but, instead, a school. And of course, there was no ghastly scene in church. In Fitzgerald’s time, you could probably get in big trouble for things like that. There were no crutches for little Moses. In the story, he was just an aloof child. And there were no Russian speaking mathematicians. And no ballerinas.
She read Fitzgerald – it was better, than the movie, but still not good enough for her – and thought of Bleachett again. Her husband’s name was Ubfon. This was a name that had something to do with Lawrence – he read an author by this name, and also, there was a character named Ubfon in one of his novels. Maud was almost asleep now. Once she read some bits of an interview with Pam Bleachett in a newspaper. She couldn’t remember anything, but one little thing: Bleachett said that her sons were shiny (in a positive way). While Maud was still in the movies domain of her memory, bits of other things surfaced – Shine, Shining. What Shining was about she remembered just vaguely, but knew that there was Mel Gibson in it. Then he fell asleep over the book. Everything flied and blurred – Ubfon, Lawrence, Gibson, Bleachett. Maud dreamt.
In her dream, Maud went up along the road toward a great castle. There was a woman living in the castle, Bleachett, of course. Her husband was Ubfon again in Maud’s dream. But in her dream, he was a quadriplegic, in a wheelchair. Bleachett was a kind of Lady Chatterley. And she pushed him along the same road that Maud came by. Maud knew that people in wheelchairs can have sex. She knew this, but, unfortunately, not first hand. So in her sleep, she put Bleachett here and there on Ubfon’s lap, perhaps like Bleachett imagined all those charming dancers. Then Maud got tired of it and dreamt another person.
He looked like Mel Gibson and carried a small light wooden cross on one arm. He wore crocodile teeth stuck all around the hat and one hung on his neck. He carried wool shears in his other hand. (Well, maybe this wasn’t wool shears at all, this was what Maud imagined them to be like; after all Bleachett didn’t know much about exceptional children either. Does it matter for a plot? ). Danny Shearer was the name of the person with shears in Maud’s dream. Bleachett hurried toward him up the road. She slipped and her leg got stuck between the roots of a tree growing near the road. She started to pull it out with her hands and leaned over. As she did so, a crocodile leapt out of the nearby creek (Anton Chekhov said that if there is a gun in the beginning of a story, by the time the story ends, it must fire). So the crocodile leapt out, grabbed Bleachett’s arm and started to pull her down. Danny Shears grabbed her bottom and started to pull too. As they pulled both ways, the arm got longer and longer. In the end, of course, Danny won, and the crocodile let go. Bleachett, free and long-armed, fell into Danny Shearer’s arms as he himself fell on the ground. The arm was so long now that she wrapped them both with it three times. It was as good as a good blanket.
Now to the cross (small, light, wooden). When he pulled Bleachett, Danny dropped the cross and sat on it, so his bottom remained almost clean. With a clean bottom and Bleachett in his arms, he decided he wanted to marry. But there was an obstacle: she was married and her husband was there in the castle in his wheelchair. So you guess it, Bleachett and Shearer went inside the castle, hugging each other, got hold of that wheelchair husband and crucified him. There was no hammer in the house and Danny Shearer used the shearers to nail the nails in. They married and lived happily ever after. A wholesome person wouldn’t let a small thing like a wheelchair get in the way.
Maud woke up with a start. She dreamt that Bleachett’s arm was suffocating her. She looked at the book and read:
You think you don’t want to be like anyone else. You always have been that way, and you always will be. But think about how it would be ?? if everyone else looked at things the way you do – what would the world look like?
She read a few more lines and fell asleep again. She was so sad about the story ending that this time, she tried, unconsciously, to dream more optimistically. Her dream took up from a point where it was interrupted – the wheelchair person Ugfon hung on the cross. There were many people around and one of them asked:
- Why is he here? What has he done? Danny Shearer stepped forward and said:
- He is a criminal.
- What’s his crime? – one of the people asked.
- He is not like us. – Shearer said. – He is in a wheelchair. If people can’t live like other people, they shouldn’t live at all.
Everybody agreed, but one person asked:
- What do you mean ‘like other people’? What other people?
- Other people like me - Danny said. We are all other people.
- Well, I’m not like you, because I don’t like you – the person said.
Maud woke up. She wasn’t sure if she wasn’t herself this other person. She wanted to dream about Ugfon being taken off the cross, but her dream didn’t stretch that far. The lines she was reading were
“his home had for him so little charm that he decided to join the army”.
Maud finished Fitzgerald’s story and got a cup of coffee. Suddenly she realized why she didn’t like this movie at all. She actually knew somebody very much like those people in the movie. And strangely, they read the same books. Maud remembered her friend reading her child a book about a mouse – his name was Aktil – who crossed the English Channel and got to France. In the movie, it was Moses’ first love who tried to cross the Channel – but couldn’t make it – although she spent thirty two hours in the water. Gosh, how disgusting! Maud got her Blackberry out of her bag and decided to ring her friend.
- Do you remember this book about a mouse Aktil that you used to read to Ben? – she asked her friend. Do you still have it?
- No – her friend said. I was just looking for it everywhere. Why are you asking?
Maud explained why and she and her friend decided to get the book back.
2.
Maud and her friend Emma met in town and talked the things over.
- If we want to get this book back, - Maud said – we should start by making a list of suspects. Who could have taken it? Is there anybody who particularly hates you? How did they get inside?
- This last bit is the easiest – Emma said. Some people leave the window open when they go for a walk, and I do too. If you know how long there will be nobody home, you can just climb in the window. Especially in the dark. Another way to do it is to get the keys out of your victim’s bag or purse and make yourself a copy. Most women leave their bags unattended when they are at work. In fact, they are bound to do so, if it’s not office work. So it’s easy. Plenty of people could have had my key. But who did it?
- Let’s think psychologically – Maud said. The person who took the book couldn’t just be anybody who had your key and came in to have a good look around. They probably wouldn’t notice one book on a shelf. It must have been somebody who knew you well enough and knew what you were reading. Do you know anybody like this?
- No – Emma said. – Nobody but you. Well, what does know mean now? I may not know somebody, but they know me. If somebody rings me once a week to tell about a new good offer in roof tiling in our area, they are like family to me. And the certainly know what I’m reading. They can hear it in the background, when I pick up the phone. In fact, they always ring when I start reading. It must be the sixth sense.
- Yeah – Maud said. Someone like this. Somebody you don’t even notice – like a postman.
- But the postman can’t fish the key out of my bag. – Emma said. If we accept that the person had the key rather than broke through the window, it narrows the possibilities.
- Basically, it’s only your boss who could easily make a copy of your key – Maud said. What’s his name, by the way?
- Steven – Emma answered.
- Ok – Maud decided. – Let’s meet him and find out. If we know he’s got it, it will be easier to get it back.
- We’ll invite him for tea – Emma said. – While one of us will be talking to Steven, the other one can get his key. Then we can come to his place and look for the book.
- Get the key from where? – Maud said. – It’s unlikely that it’s in his bag. He, probably, doesn’t even have a bag. He must carry it in his pocket. We need to make him sleeping with a sleeping pill before we can pull the key out of his pocket. And what if he doesn’t have a book? All for nothing?
Everything went according to the plan. The next day Steven arrived for tea at Emma’s place. Emma introduced him to Maud and poured out tea. Maud made her first attempt at a revealing kind of conversation.
- I’ve always wanted to go to France, you know – she said. But of course, it is not an English speaking country. You must be prepared for everything, if you go there. You’d need a dictionary and a pocket book, if you go there. In the book they were looking for – Maud remembered, but didn’t say so – the mouse Aktil had both these objects when he started across the English Channel. Is it far from England to France, if you go by sea – Maud continued. Can you just swim across it?
Steven looked at her with a weird expression but said that a trained person can swim across the English Channel in thirty four hours. Of course, he might have known this from the ‘Curious Case of Moses Coat’.
Maud realized her first attempt didn’t work and made another:
- How long did it take Aktil to cross the Cbannel? – she said. – How long was he in the water? What did he wear? Steven might have asked “Who is Aktil?” but instead he answered: “Goggles”. A second later, he noticed his mistake, choked on his tea and left the room.
- This is it. – Emma said. – He obviously knows. He has it. What do we do now?
- We must get inside his house and take it. – Maud said. But realistically, we cannot pull the key out of his pocket. It’s too difficult. There should be another way.
- I know. – Emma said. – There is a service that comes to you and unlocks the door, if you lock you keys in. Of course, it’s not free. Now if one of us will pretend she is Steven, we can call the service in and they will open the door for us.
- It’s better if we hire somebody to do this bit. – Maud said. In detective novels, they always hire an actor or an actress to do it, when there is a need to camouflage as another person. Agatha Christie loves it.
- Wait, it gives me an idea – Emma cried. – Could it be Bleachett herself who came to me and had the door opened? Anyway, we can’t hire her for this – she is already involved.
- Listen – Maud said. Maybe there is no need to break into his house. We know he has it, what do we gain if we get inside and see it?
- Yes, we know – Emma replied. – But we don’t have it. It’s my book, and I want it back.
The friends decided they’ll ask an actor who lived nearby to pretend he is Steven and invite the door-opening service for them.
3.
It is hard to say what they expected to see in Steven’s house, but the reality surpassed their expectations. There were, instead, lots of glass boxes. Every each one of them had a book in it and ??a name – Karley Smith, Uri Bentman, John Citizen. Apparently, Steven had been stealing books from other people, on somebody’s order. Whose order, exactly, it was in our case – Maud wanted to know. Maybe, Bleachett’s? Whose order was all this other stuff? Maud and Emma went through the rooms, looking for their book.
They found it in one of the back rooms, grabbed and hurried towards the door. But when they were just ready to get out of the door, they heard the steps. Two people – Steven and Bleachett – entered the room. Quick – Emma screamed. She picked up one of the glass boxes and threw it at Steven. One piece of glass got into his eye and he fell down, unconscious. Maud grabbed both of Bleachett’s arms and held them firmly in her two hands. She was pushing her toward the glass box with her knee. With some effort, she managed to put her inside and closed the lid.
- Wait – Emma said. – We can’t leave her here like this. She needs food, and water, and going to the toilet, and, most of all, air.
- We can put her food and water inside – Maud answered. Have you ever had a hamster? They can live in a box for a long time. For air, there is an option of leaving a bit of a crack under the lid when you lock it – just don’t close it tight. I don’t know what to do about the toilet. Maybe, she can just use the box? Anyway, Steven’s wife will be home soon and she’ll take care of them both.
They closed the room’s door behind them and got outside, into the fresh breath of the street.
- It’s quite an adventure – Emma said. – Do you think we can tell somebody about it?
- I am not sure – Maud said. When you come to think about it, it’s obvious that ?? They even took your book to make it sound more realistic. But if you tell this to a friend, or post it all on Facebook, you have, at least, change everybody’s name. Names are a real telltale sign. I mean, everything else, all the circumstances, can be the same for a great many people. Just a coincidence. I guess this is the real reason why Bleachett and her mob got away with it – they changed all the names and made the people unrecognizable. But the same name can be a coincidence too – especially a frequent name, like Smith.
- I think the way many reasonable people see it – Maud went on and on – is that if Bleachett did something, it doesn’t mean that you can, too. Quod licet Iovi, non licet bovi. It’s just a totally different story. You are not her, because you are not all over the pages of magazines and not a movie star. So she can break into your life, but you cannot break into hers.
- I don’t want to break into anybody’s life. – Emma said. Least of all, Bleachett’s. I just wanted to get my book back. I am glad we got it.