“He doesn’t even live in New York,” Booper informed Teddy. “And his father’s dead. He was killed in Korea.” She turned to Myron. “Wasn’t he?” she demanded, but without waiting for a response. “Now if his mother dies, he’ll be an orphan. He didn’t even know that.” She looked at Myron. “Did you?”
Myron, non-committal, folded his arms.
“You’re the stupidest person I ever met,” Booper said to him. “You’re the stupidest person in this ocean. Did you know that?”
“He is not,” Teddy said. “You are not, Myron.” He addressed his sister: “Give me your attention a second. Where’s the camera? I have to have it immediately. Where is it?”
“Over there,” Booper said, indicating no direction at all. She drew her two stacks of shuffleboard discs in closer to her. “All I need now is two giants,” she said. “They could play backgammon till they got all tired and then they could climb up on that smokestack and throw these at everybody and kill them.” She looked at Myron. “They could kill your parents,” she said to him knowledgeably. “And if that didn’t kill them, you know what you could do? You could put some poison on some marshmellows and make them eat it.”
The Leica was about ten feet away, next to the white railing that surrounded the Sports Deck. It lay in the drain gully, on its side. Teddy went over and picked it up by its strap and hung it around his neck. Then, immediately, he took it off. He took it over to Booper. “Booper, do me a favor. You take it down, please,” he said. “It’s ten o’clock. I have to write in my diary.”
“I’m busy.”
“Mother wants to see you right away, anyway,” Teddy said.
“You’re a liar.”
“I’m not a liar. She does,” Teddy said. “So please take this down with you when you go … C’mon, Booper.”