Odd Hours

She was untouchable, however. A true lady. There are none like her now.”
    And here came the kiss. A few more words. And a second kiss. Dissolve to a European battlefield.
    Hutch sighed. “Half a century goes by in what seems like a year. Don’t waste an hour in boredom, son, or wishing for tomorrow.”
    “I do my best to keep myself occupied,” I assured him.
    Sitting up straighter in the chair, he said, “I’m sorry to say no one has come looking for you.”
    “I’m delighted to hear it.”
    “I would have given a stirring performance, one for the ages. Acting is a marvelous profession, son. If you can spend enough time playing other people, you don’t have to think too much about your own character and motivations.”
    “To save my skin, I had to be someone else tonight. I called myself Harry Lime.”
    “That takes chutzpah. You’re no Orson Welles, young man.”
    “I wouldn’t disagree, sir.”
    “I almost landed the lead in The Third Man . But I can’t begrudge Joseph Cotten getting it. He was superb.”
    I sat on the footstool. “Mr. Hutchison—”
    “Call me Hutch. Everyone does.”
    “Yes, sir. Well, as you know, I didn’t arrive on this job with many clothes—”
    Leaning forward in his armchair, eyes alight, he interrupted: “We’ll go to a thrift shop tomorrow! I’ve been afire with the idea since we talked about it earlier.”
    “Well, gee, what I was about to say is…I’m going upstairs to change into a clean sweatshirt. And I’m in such a hurry, I was kind of hoping it wouldn’t be too much of an inconvenience if I asked you to dispose of my clothing.”
    He understood but didn’t want to understand. “What a peculiar request.”
    “I have to leave tonight, sir.”
    “But why?” He held up one hand that, in the day, held Deborah Kerr. “Yes, I see. Big guy with a chin beard, then a redheaded guy who does or does not have bad teeth. So am I to assume that your differences with them could not be resolved?”
    “Not entirely, sir.”
    “Now you’re going on the lam.”
    “Exactly.”
    “Once, I was on the lam myself.”
    I said, “With Henry Fonda in relentless pursuit.”
    “Relentless in his relaxed way. I think it would have been better if Henry shot me down.”
    “But you were innocent.”
    “Yes, but sometimes the innocent die, and audiences occasionally like a tragedy.” He frowned. “Son, you came here with one suitcase, and you’re leaving with just the clothes on your back.”
    “I prefer to travel light.”
    “Just be certain to wear pants.”
    “I intend to, sir.”
    “Call me Hutch. Everyone does. These thrift-shop clothes of yours…do they come with an obligation?”
    “I’m not sure I follow.”
    “When one buys clothing in a thrift shop and is done with it, is one contractually obligated to pass the clothing on to someone poorer than oneself?”
    “Oh, no, sir. You can just throw them in the trash.”
    “That’s easy, then. I thought there might be some protocol that I would want to honor, if you had committed to it.” He pulled aside the chenille throw on his lap and prepared to get up from the chair.
    I said, “One more thing, and I regret having to ask.”
    He looked crestfallen. “You want to take the rest of the cookies you made today.”
    “No, no. Those are yours.”
    “Oh, good. Splendid. Lovely.”
    “Sir, I was wondering if I could borrow one of the cars.”
    “Of course. You’re a superb driver.”
    “I can’t risk trying to leave town by bus or train.”
    “They’ll be watching public transport.”
    “Precisely. If I could drive your car to Santa Barbara, I could leave it with your nephew there, and maybe he could arrange to get it back to you.”
    His brow creased with worry. “But what will you do then?”
    “Make it up as I go along. It works for me.”
    “Sounds grim.”
    “No, sir. It’s adventurous but not grim.” I got up from the footstool. “I’d better change sweatshirts and get moving.”
    Each of his long legs seemed to have two knee joints as he unfolded them and got to his feet. “I shall meet you in the kitchen with the car keys.”
    “Oh,” I said, “and a flashlight? I’ll need a flashlight. That’s it. I won’t keep asking for stuff.”
    “One needs a good flashlight on the lam. No problem.”
    Upstairs in my room, I realized that I would also be leaving a collection of Sinatra biographies. I suspected that I would not need them anymore.
    In the bathroom, I stripped to the