High Energy, Joy, Dara [books to read this summer .txt] 📗

an alcove of floor-to-ceiling

windows.

In the center of the floor stood a chubby little man and a very fat cat.

The man wore a red-and-white horizontally striped shirt, baggy brown pants, and

old, scuffed hiking boots. Around his head was a red kerchief, which was tied in

a knot behind his left ear—the ear that held a large gold hoop. He was whipping

a batter to a frenzy in a stainless steel bowl.

The cat, an enormous orange tabby, watched the man cooking with a greedy gleam

in his golden eye. He was a tough old customer, that cat. Zanita noted with some

amusement that a piece of his right ear was chewed off. A black eyepatch covered

his left eye. He looked like a rogue.

"Blooey!" Tyber's voice boomed in the kitchen, making Zanita jump. He leaned

down to explain in a lower voice, "Blooey won't respond to me unless I speak to

him in a certain—ah, tone."

The odd man spun around, squaring his shoulders. "Aye, Captain?"

Zanita immediately recognized the voice as the one she had heard on the

intercom. Captain? He called Tyber Captain. Had Tyber been in the military? If

so, this was a piece of information that could be useful in an interview. So far

as she knew, no one had ever mentioned his being in the service. And just what

were his government ties?

"I want to introduce you to someone. Zanita Masterson, this is Arthur Bloomberg,

known to his friends as Blooey."

"Hi. Nice to meet you." Zanita put her hand out.

Blooey squinted, examining her through one eye. "She be yer lady, what ye

mentioned, Captain?"

Tyber seemed distinctly uncomfortable. "Ah… she is a lady, Blooey."

Blooey nodded, then clasped her hand, giving her a quick, rough shake. "Fair

enough, I say. Welcome aboard, Lady Masterson."

Zanita wasn't quite sure how to respond to the strange little man. "Um—thanks."

A loud, indignant meow came from the floor.

"I'm getting to you; keep your whiskers on."

Tyber was talking to his cat. And the cat seemed to understand; he sat back on

his haunches, peering out of his one eye at Zanita expectantly.

"And this is Hambone." The cat raised a chubby paw.

Zanita knelt down to shake his paw. "Hi, Hambone, pleased to meet you." She

swore the cat grinned at her.

Tyber clasped her shoulders, bringing her to her feet. "If you need us, we'll be

out by the pool."

"Aye, aye, Captain. Supper will be at six bells."

As soon as they cleared the doorway, Zanita asked him as casually as she could,

"When were you in the military?"

He looked puzzled. "The military?"

So, he was hiding something! "Yes, the military. Don't deny it, Tyber, it's too

late. That man in there called you Captain."

A laugh line curved the left side of his mouth. "Oh, yes, I'd forgotten all

about my illustrious military career."

She fumbled around in her bag, pulling out a bent reporter's notebook and a

pencil. "Now this is interesting. Tell me all about it."

He crossed his arms and looked down at her. "Well, let me see. In those days,

there was a lot of strife between… you know."

Zanita nodded eagerly. "The cold war. Go on." She scribbled in her book.

"I had commandeered my own ship, of course."

"Of course," she agreed, not looking up and therefore missing the grin that

broke across his face.

"I sank and pillaged twenty ships—"

"Pillaged?" She looked up at him aghast. "The government condoned that sort of

thing?"

"I had a letter of marque," he answered her seriously.

"A letter of—Tyber, what are you talking about?"

He gave her an innocent look. "What are you writing?"

She looked down guiltily at the notebook in her hand. "All right, so I forgot."

He snorted at that statement. She quickly put the notebook away. "So, were you

in the military?"

He laughed."No."

"Then why does that man call you Captain?"

Tyber rubbed the back of his neck, seeking a way to explain this. "Blooey is an

excellent cook." She stared at him expectantly. "He… thinks he's on a pirate

ship and that I'm the captain."

As if that explained it. She continued to stare at him.

Tyber sighed. "Arthur Bloomberg used to be a brilliant mathematician. We worked

together at one time. It was his work on imaginary numbers that drove him

slightly over the edge—the paradox, you see. As Blooey says, 'What was the

point?' Pun intended."

"I see. I think. He had sort of a nervous breakdown, and you took him in." She

was beginning to see yet another side to Tyberius Augustus Evans. A side she

liked very much. "Doesn't he have any relatives?"

"None that will claim him. Besides," he said by way of explanation, "Blooey's

the best shipmate I've ever sailed with. Wait until you taste his cooking—I

really think it's his true vocation, doctorate be dammed."

"That man has a doctorate?" Her expression was incredulous.

"Yes, but compared to his vegetable terrine, its meaningless."

Tyber led her through the conservatory onto the grounds behind the house. They

passed more gardens, then passed through a high wrought-iron gate in yet another

stone wall. This was the "pool area." The entire site was reminiscent of a

secluded grotto, with boulders lining the pool itself, giving it a natural pond

appearance. Several little waterfalls cascaded into the pool from the rock wall,

which contained, of all things, an outdoor fireplace. A second iron gate led

directly into the house.

It was a lovely spot.

It was devoid of guests.

Zanita looked around. "Where is everybody?"

"What do you mean?"

"You said you were having an end-of-class, Indian summer pool party."

Tyber threw himself onto a wicker lounge, crossing his hands behind his head.

"And so I am."

Zanita's eyes narrowed. "There are no other guests, are there?"

"I don't recall mentioning other guests to you."

She tapped her foot. "I can see you have a tendency toward presumption, Dr.

Evans."

"And how is that, Ms. Masterson? I issued an invitation; you accepted." He

watched her from under half-lowered lids. "Now, why was that, I wonder?"

He was toying with her. He knew exactly why she had accepted!

Zanita kicked a pebble off the patio and into the pool. "You know why! I want an

interview with you!"

Tyber's silvery blue eyes followed the pebble with some amusement as it skipped

across the stones to plop into the water. Unfolding himself from the lounge

chair, he walked behind her to cup his hands on her shoulders.

Zanita tried to move