The Rialto Books Review vol.013
I Depart a Stranger
by Alex Ranieri
“Good. I imagine you’ll want to dress. Your usual room is quite empty.” In this sum- mary fashion was Robert dismissed from his brother’s presence, to the yet greater relief, most likely, of both parties.
His usual room was at the back of the house, overlooking the ravine, with the garage directly below. Its decorations were every bit as sumptuous as the rest of the house, if a bit faded. Robert liked it all the better for that. It was not so forbidding, to be greeted with gentle umbers and yellows in the carpet, and gently dissolving reds in the curtains, as to confront the stately richness of the front hall. Above a rarely-used fireplace stood a very pretty Rococo portrait of a young woman, smiling from beneath her powdered locks, with a view of gentle slopes and a river beyond. Robert liked, too, this young woman, her playful smile, her gentle fat little hands. If anything could be found in nature more opposite his brother, he would’ve fallen in love with her on the spot. It was quite obvious to him that his brother believed he was shunting Robert into the worst room in the house; and it brought him a quiet delight that everything was, in fact, so perfectly to his taste.
Dressing for dinner was another timeless idiosyncrasy of Jonathan’s, and Robert kept the closet in this room stocked with a few good suit coats for the purpose. As his dressing consisted of nothing more than shrugging on one of these relics and slapping on a bit of after- shave, he was left to himself for a few idle moments, and wandered over to the window.
The Sally
Act I Scene II
by Russell Block
Enter Bertrand, Edison, and Alva, toweling off. Except for the ever-present boat, the scenery of the previous scene has been removed.
Edison. While proving a tad averse to violence, which we treat like common currency, oft as we do tender it within our milieu, I do believe he otherwise makes with us what is known in carpentry as a good fit.
Bertrand. I thought, as a suggestion, and do with it what you will, but when next we go skinny- dipping with near strangers, you could demure somewhat in the telling of what amounts to our greatest hits.
Edison. What harm is there in honesty?
Bertrand. In those frenzied moshpits, wherein our youth was spent fighting violence with violence, as in tonight’s detailing, it got a little handsy.
Edison. There was no cause for consternation. You mistake evident revulsion for aversion, mistakenly consider his opprobrium disgust and his avowed alarm an admission of horror.
Bertrand. You think I am mistaken? Then is the criminal a critic of the court. Revulsion, aversion, opprobrium, disgust, alarm and horror are all of a kind.
Edison. And so, if we tender this Francis too much kindness, he will never aversions overcome or his horror master. He got what I am all about. He needs to know what we are all all about.
