The Ups and Downs of Being Dead (43 page)

“Okay,” Robert said to Robbie. “I’m going to get pulled in
automatically. At the last second, I’m going to grab you and take you in with
me. Then you’re going to have to push me out. I’ll do everything I can to
help.”

“Yeah, I remember,” Robbie snorted. “I’ll try not to send
you sailing across the room like you did.”

Robert glanced over at Suzanne.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

A nauseous wave roiled in Robert’s belly, reminding him of
that day so many years ago when he first died.

He looked into Robbie’s eyes. “Thanks, Robbie. I love you.”

“I love you too, Dad.”

Lurching forward, Robert enveloped his son. He immediately
felt that sensation of being caught under water. He fought the urge to struggle
to the surface and let himself get pulled deeper.

A burning sensation sizzled through every nerve in his body,
like it was on fire. He tried to cry out, but couldn’t. It was dark, like the
black cloud he’d gotten tangled up in with that crazy mechanic on the cruise.

Far in the distance, he heard Suzanne call to him. He tried
to move in that direction, but the cloud was like spider webs, holding him
back.

His lungs burned, craving a breath. He tried to run but his
legs were paralyzed. He sensed that he would not be able to get a breath until
he broke free.

“Leeet…gooooo!” someone called, the words so slow they
seemed to be caught in the web as well.

The heat grew more intense. Robert heard a drum pounding in
his ears. He surged forward, his mouth wide in a silent scream. He gasped in a
gust of air and cried out.

The pretty woman on the afternoon talk show wrapped up her
interview with a botanist who had developed a new vegetable. A large logo
behind her read simply: Mona.

“My next guest,” Mona told her television audience, “has a
most unusual story. But then, don’t they all?” She leaned her elbows on her
desk and winked at the camera. “He first sold women’s clothing in a little
boutique, then opened a few more larger stores along the way. At the age of
fifty-seven, he found out he was dying. But instead of giving up, he had his
body cryonically-preserved, and he has just recently returned to the living.

“Ladies and gentlemen, Robert Malone.”

Robert walked out from behind a partition and shook hands
with Mona before he sat in a chair opposite her desk.

“Thanks for coming on our show, Robert,” she said.

“Thank you for having me,” he replied.

“Would you mind if I gave our audience a brief history of
your life?”

“Not at all.”

“Robert was born and raised in Indiana,” Mona told her
audience. “His father had a small clothing store where he sold practical
clothing to women living in a rather rural area of the state. Robert took over
the business, and married a woman who modeled some of his company’s fashions.”

A picture appeared on a monitor of Amanda, still looking
ravishing nearly a hundred years later, in the champagne-colored gown.

The studio audience oohed at her picture.

“Robert and his wife Amanda had two children, a boy and a
girl.”

This time the monitor showed a traditional family portrait,
with little Robbie standing between Robert and Amanda, and baby Rachel perched
on Amanda’s lap. Robert’s hand was on Robbie’s shoulder. To an outsider, it
looked like a proud father and his son, but Robert remembered how he’d had to
clamp a hand on Robbie to keep him from dashing away.

“Now, I’m not going to tell you anymore about Robert, but
we’re going to show you some fashions and see if any of you can guess. First,
let’s show everyone an example of the type of fashions your father sold in his
store in rural Indiana.”

This picture showed a buxom woman in a dowdy cotton dress
and clunky, lace shoes.

Tongue-in-cheek, she asked, “Was this the latest fashion at
the time?”

The studio audience tittered with chuckles.

“No, Mona,” Robert said. “That might have been my father’s
idea of fashion, but it certainly wasn’t mine.”

“And when your father died, you took over the business and
started selling a different line of clothing, is that right.”

Robert nodded.

“We’ve got some images of some of your earliest fashions.”
The monitor flashed mini-skirted girls in go-go boots and Mary Quant hats.
Paper dresses. Plastic, see-through coats. The pictures flashed faster, showing
fake fur vests and over-the-knee boots, elegant slacks belted with gold chains.
Then the pictures included girls’ wear, then men’s wear, boys’ and even
infants’.

“Did any of you see an outfit that looked familiar?” Mona
asked. “You might have, because all those pictures were taken from the Audrey’s
Corporation archives.”

The audience clapped and chortled approvingly.

“And sitting here is the man who started it all, nearly one
hundred years ago.”

Robert nodded through the clapping and cheering. He even
stood and took a small bow.

Once the audience was quiet, Mona turned to Robert. “So,
here you are. A young man ready to plunge back into the world of fashion, is
that right?”

“No, Mona, it’s not.” Robert paused for affect. “You see,
I’m not really Robert Malone. I’m his son, Robbie.”

The studio audience went berserk.

Robert chuckled softly. “What a ham.”

He rose from the plush leather seat and extended an elbow to
Suzanne. She smiled and stood, pretending to loop an arm through his.

“Just like his father,” she said.

“Much as I’d love to stay and watch the rest of this
program,” he said. “We have a flight to catch.”

He escorted Suzanne out of the executive lounge and into the
bustling concourse of LaGuardia airport.

“It’s going to be strange not traveling with Maggie and
Joe,” Suzanne said.

“Yeah. I'm going to miss that old bird analyzing everything
I say and do.”

Suzanne chuckled and snuggled closer. “She meant well.”

Robert escorted Suzanne through the huddle of people waiting
to board the space shuttle and took his place first in line.

“Too bad Joe didn’t want to stick around,” Robert said. “I
think he would have enjoyed spending a weekend on the Luna Liner.”

“And constantly be reminded that Maggie’s back with the
living? No way,” Suzanne said.

When the doors opened, Robert stepped onto the jetway, ahead
of the pack. But Suzanne hesitated.

“All your friends are gone now.”

“They were your friends, too.”

“You won’t have your meetings twice a year to catch up with
all the other temps.”

“Hey,” Robert said softly. He tilted his head and held out a
hand. “We’ll make new friends.”

“I hope you haven’t made a big mistake, staying with me,”
she said. “You might regret letting Robbie take over.”

Reaching out his arm, Robert wrapped his elbow around her
neck, and drawing near, he whispered, “Never.”