Treasure Island!!!

asses, only they put it better. They’re complimenting him and the doctor says, ‘Jim is a noticing lad.’”
    Lars looked at me blankly.
    “A noticing lad, a noticing lad,” I said, smacking his thigh. “
I’m
a noticing lad, and that’s why I do Nancy’s voice. I’ve
noticed
that Nancy talks without any articles.”
    Lars has a bit of fight in him, so long as the topic isn’t too personal. “You told me Nancy’s lived in the States twelve years. She owns her own business. She’s probably more integrated in the community than
we
are. No way she sounds like a Chinese stereotype.”
    “But you haven’t met Nancy,” I grumbled. “She really does talk like that. One day I’ll go to China and the native speakers can quote my egregious errors as much as they want—then you’ll see.”
    “Since when are
you
going to China?” Lars said with a touch of sulkiness. That’s when it hit me: Lars wasn’t politically sensitive, not by a long sea mile. He was afraid I’d leave him.
    “Don’t worry, I’m not planning any trips. Unless someone does all the arrangements for me, flight and hotel and all that, I don’t even
like
to travel.”
    “Scrraww!” Richard said. Wings flat, head tucked, he appeared to be molesting his feathers.
    “You know what Nancy’s really upset about? Willie. But it wasn’t me who shaved him. Who do you think
did
pick up those clippers?”
    “I have no idea. Maybe some kids wandered in and then did it for a prank—”
    “Teenagers!” I remembered the boys speeding past me in the mud-splashed car. I had waved to them. Willie’s tormentors.
    “Do you have another job in mind?” Lars asked.
    “What?” I said, caught unawares.
    “That’s why I’m thinking you should talk to Nancy. Face to face. BOLDNESS. KINDNESS. FORGIVENESS —”
    “Lars, you don’t even relish the adventure, do you? You’re like Tom Redruth, the gamekeeper who gets dragged along, and grumbles the whole time.”
    “Doesn’t ring a bell.”
    “Heart of gold; not a lot of drive; eats a bullet in Chapter Twenty-Five: The Attack. Besides, there’s nothing about
forgiveness
in the Core Values! Jesus. Read the book!”
    But the longer we sat on my bed, in my lovely studio apartment, with its cheerful, flimsy sub-Urban Outfitters furnishings, the more I realized I had no savings and would rather slit my wrists than go back to the gift wrap department at Flounkers. At least at The Pet Library I could read. And maybe Nancy could take the parrot back.
    “Lars, hand me my stationery box.”
    At first, I chose a lovely medium-weight note-card with a letter-pressed border of red peonies, a piece of stationery that came from a superb out-of-town paper boutique. Just imagining Nancy’s hands (never manicured) unwrapping it on the counter (invariably soiled) prompted me to save the card for a better occasion. Here was a dull card with fern fronds, leftover from a box set. I drew a thick decorative swirl over the “Thank You” and it was perfect.
    Dear Nancy
, I wrote. Immediately an image sprung up of her sifting through the mail in the back room, the airbrushed centerfold of cats warping off the wall behind her.
Since you’ve misconstrued my actions, I’m bound by my honor to explain them. Many, many times I looked at The Pet Library’s petty cash and thought of how I could use the money for my personal uses, for instance to buy a cashmere sweater—which I’m fairly sure I’m never going to be able to buy—and yet I didn’t. I hope I’m right when I say that this kind of restraint counts for something. I took the money to buy a parrot for The Pet Library. Which wasn’t right, my boyfriend tells me now, but wasn’t the most wrong thing in the world either, as it was an act on behalf of the business and not a misappropriation of funds for a personal sweater. I had no idea the money didn’t belong to The Pet Library. As for the fish, I wish I hadn’t left the tank uncovered but you can hardly blame the cats for taking a crack at them. When Jim Hawkins counts up the dead after the first skirmish, the crew has been reduced from nineteen to fifteen. And two more wounded, lying about, I think. But he soldiers on. As for Willie his coat was his best feature but, on the bright side, it will grow back, and now it will be easier to really go after his eczema. I hope you accept this apology and let me know at your earliest convenience about my hours for the coming week. I could work this Saturday,