Agnes Among the Gargoyles Read Online Free Page B
Author: Patrick Flynn
asks.
   "Would that I had. Didn't you see the news?"
   Barbara coughs again. "No. Last night I watched six hours of the Westminister Kennel Club finals. I taped it last year, and it's been nagging at me."
   "Hang on, would you?" says Agnes. She lowers the receiver. Her mother is on a roll.
   "...For a long time she couldn't set eyes on the image of George Washington without bursting into tears. Even his silhouette could set her off. And I seem to remember her being terrified of certain typefaces...."
   "What's happening?" says Barbara.
   "A portrait is emerging of a child with severe psychological difficulties," Agnes tells her. "I'll be right over."
   Agnes throws a few things into a knapsack and goes down the fire escape to avoid the reporters. She emerges in a courtyard between two of the Duke of Exeter's wings. She hops a short fence and runs down the street.
   The sun is barely up. The streets are empty and silent. Agnes reaches the subway entrance. She bounds down the steps and runs smack into a bum urinating on the wall. She screams. He screams. The sight of his diseased penis is bad enough, but it is his face that is truly alarming. It is a face from Agnes's past. It chills her. It is a gray face, creased and stubbled, with deep-set eyes that mock her as she passes.
   My God, she thinks. It's him.
   After all these years.
   Chuzzlewit!
Chapter Six
Barbara Foucault lives in Brooklyn, in Borough Park, a center of Orthodox and Hasidic Judaism.
   "I think Lamark was right," says Barbara. She sits in the Eames chair her therapist sold her when he moved his office from Manhattan to Hartsdale. "Acquired characteristics can be passed on. How else could Madelaine Wegeman look so aristocratic? Her nose looks like the rudder of a yacht. Her greatgrandfather was a complete prole. Black Jack McKibbinâthey never talk about him."
   Barbara folds up her legs under her. "The McKibbins are new money, and they might as well admit it. I remember when Madelaine got married. June of '68. I was already wasting time reading Town & Country. I followed Madelaine quite closely in those days. I thought we looked alike. I read somewhere that she had enjoyed the Mushroom Planet books as a childâI loved the Mushroom Planet books! I was shocked when I saw the pictures of her wedding. It was incredibly tasteless. I loathed her dress. It had puffed sleeves and this absurd conical headdress. She looked like Rapunzel. Then I found out she and Ron went to Puerto Vallarta on their honeymoon. Puerto Vallarta! That was where you went with your chaperone when you won on The Dating Game. So tacky."
   Barbara is an actress. Agnes sees all her shows. She goes to storefront theaters in the plant district, the antiques district, the office supplies district. Barbara belongs to an acting company that specializes in highbrow revivals, Moliere and Racine and the like. Agnes first saw her as Lady Teazle in The School For Scan dal. The show was genteel and irrelevant, a Georgian sitcom. On a sweltering night you take refuge in an air conditioned movie theater and when you come out the heat is a shock; when you leave one of Barbara's shows, the strains of the final minuet ringing in your ears, the shock is life itself, unchoreographed and in the basest prose.
   "I had to get away," Agnes tells Barbara. "Let everyone else scramble for that little slice of fame. I'm not interested."
  "It's always people like you who have opportunity handed to them," says Barbara. "It's not fair. You don't even like Wegeman."
   "I despise him," says Agnes. "Look what he's done to New York."
   "He's egregious, certainly, but I don't care," says Barbara. "I'd let him show his appreciation by adopting me. I'd renounce the theater and move right in."
   "Don't you think Madelaine
   "Would that I had. Didn't you see the news?"
   Barbara coughs again. "No. Last night I watched six hours of the Westminister Kennel Club finals. I taped it last year, and it's been nagging at me."
   "Hang on, would you?" says Agnes. She lowers the receiver. Her mother is on a roll.
   "...For a long time she couldn't set eyes on the image of George Washington without bursting into tears. Even his silhouette could set her off. And I seem to remember her being terrified of certain typefaces...."
   "What's happening?" says Barbara.
   "A portrait is emerging of a child with severe psychological difficulties," Agnes tells her. "I'll be right over."
   Agnes throws a few things into a knapsack and goes down the fire escape to avoid the reporters. She emerges in a courtyard between two of the Duke of Exeter's wings. She hops a short fence and runs down the street.
   The sun is barely up. The streets are empty and silent. Agnes reaches the subway entrance. She bounds down the steps and runs smack into a bum urinating on the wall. She screams. He screams. The sight of his diseased penis is bad enough, but it is his face that is truly alarming. It is a face from Agnes's past. It chills her. It is a gray face, creased and stubbled, with deep-set eyes that mock her as she passes.
   My God, she thinks. It's him.
   After all these years.
   Chuzzlewit!
Chapter Six
Barbara Foucault lives in Brooklyn, in Borough Park, a center of Orthodox and Hasidic Judaism.
   "I think Lamark was right," says Barbara. She sits in the Eames chair her therapist sold her when he moved his office from Manhattan to Hartsdale. "Acquired characteristics can be passed on. How else could Madelaine Wegeman look so aristocratic? Her nose looks like the rudder of a yacht. Her greatgrandfather was a complete prole. Black Jack McKibbinâthey never talk about him."
   Barbara folds up her legs under her. "The McKibbins are new money, and they might as well admit it. I remember when Madelaine got married. June of '68. I was already wasting time reading Town & Country. I followed Madelaine quite closely in those days. I thought we looked alike. I read somewhere that she had enjoyed the Mushroom Planet books as a childâI loved the Mushroom Planet books! I was shocked when I saw the pictures of her wedding. It was incredibly tasteless. I loathed her dress. It had puffed sleeves and this absurd conical headdress. She looked like Rapunzel. Then I found out she and Ron went to Puerto Vallarta on their honeymoon. Puerto Vallarta! That was where you went with your chaperone when you won on The Dating Game. So tacky."
   Barbara is an actress. Agnes sees all her shows. She goes to storefront theaters in the plant district, the antiques district, the office supplies district. Barbara belongs to an acting company that specializes in highbrow revivals, Moliere and Racine and the like. Agnes first saw her as Lady Teazle in The School For Scan dal. The show was genteel and irrelevant, a Georgian sitcom. On a sweltering night you take refuge in an air conditioned movie theater and when you come out the heat is a shock; when you leave one of Barbara's shows, the strains of the final minuet ringing in your ears, the shock is life itself, unchoreographed and in the basest prose.
   "I had to get away," Agnes tells Barbara. "Let everyone else scramble for that little slice of fame. I'm not interested."
  "It's always people like you who have opportunity handed to them," says Barbara. "It's not fair. You don't even like Wegeman."
   "I despise him," says Agnes. "Look what he's done to New York."
   "He's egregious, certainly, but I don't care," says Barbara. "I'd let him show his appreciation by adopting me. I'd renounce the theater and move right in."
   "Don't you think Madelaine
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