Creature Discomforts

close, she actually did smell of peppermint. Understanding the significance of odor is rather primitive, even doglike, but maybe I’d eventually progress to figuring out the implications of spoken language. My father? A bumper sticker? Violence as a suitable subject for humor?
    Quint looked embarrassed. “It’s more a matter of Opal and Wally. And the Pine Tree Foundation.” He had that stiff politeness of prep school graduates. You know what I mean? The kind that makes you think they’re lying and that the minute your back is turned, they’ll be running around committing all kinds of dirty, illegal proletarian sins, but with upper-class flair.
    Removing her face from mine, Effie turned to Quint. “Well, so far as I’m concerned, the foundation has nothing to do with it. This is a matter of principle. It’s not about
    Pine Tree Foundation politics. The point is, violence or nonviolence? And speaking for myself, I couldn’t care less if Opal and Wally are offended, and if they are, they’ve brought it on themselves. Nobody made them become developers. The same goes for Anita. If she didn’t want to be the butt of lawyer jokes, she shouldn’t’ve gone to law school. And if Wally and Opal wanted to be part of an environmental organization, they shouldn’t’ve become developers in the first place. So if they take offense, it’s a personal matter between Opal and Gabbi. As far as the Pine Tree Foundation goes, good riddance!”
    “Effie,” Quint said pacifically, “people can change. Malcolm is always saying that, and he’s right. He has Opal and Wally volunteering on the Homans crew, and if that experience isn’t enough to persuade them, there’s nothing wrong with offering an economic incentive to invest in the environment instead of to destroy it. In part, that is what the Pine Tree Foundation’s about. And I know you think it’s hypocritical to combine charity and self-interest, but the only rational approach, Effie, is to focus on the enlightened contributions people do make. Standard Oil is an excellent example. Now, there’s a history of extreme economic and environmental exploitation and violence, but if it weren’t for—“
    Effie cut him off with a warning glance.
    Shrugging off her concern, he persisted, “it’s because of John D., Jr., that this island isn’t covered with theme parks and blacktop and ticky-tack. Is that what you’d prefer?”
    “Of course not, Quint, but Opal and Wally are a far cry from being philanthropists, and you know it.”
    “So are the other investors,” he said. “Gabbi, for one. There’s no reason why Opal and Wally shouldn’t be invited, too. For all we know, they already have been.”
    “I know that Opal is an old friend of Gabbi’s! I’ve heard it a thousand times. And you’re right. For all we know, Opal was one of the first people Malcolm invited, after Gabbi, which is, if you ask me, a totally undemocratic and elitist policy, anyway.”
    I’d reached the limit of the bewilderment I could endure. “What is?” I asked.
    “Investment by invitation,” Effie replied. “Word of mouth. The old-boy network.”
    “Effie, among other things, Gabbi and Opal are not old boys. And Gabbi is no snob. If she were, she’d hardly—” Red-faced, Quint broke off.
    Tactfully ignoring what was clearly going to be a reference to my father, Effie shook her head. “Unfair is unfair. Privilege is no better if it’s based on class instead of sex. It’s still exclusionary. It’s the same old rich-get-richer.”
    “My wife, the radical,” Quint said amiably. “So if the Pine Tree Foundation is strictly a rich-get-richer scheme, why didn’t Norman Axelrod invest? The more elitist the foundation was, the better he should’ve liked it.”
    “Because even though he saw everybody else making money, and even though, yes, he would’ve paid to be able to say he was involved with the, uh, benefactors, he did not want to do anything to promote conservation and save the environment, that’s why! And since everyone else saw that the foundation was obviously a good thing, as usual, he had to decide that it wasn’t. You know how oppositional he was, Quint. Wasn’t he, Holly?”
    “I suppose so,” I said.
    “Speaking of opposition,” Quint began hesitantly. “It’s awkward, but...”
    “The bumper sticker,” Effie told me. “Is there something you can do about it?“
    “I don’t really know,” I said.
    “I was hoping he might listen to you.