Lacey has a different relationship with the Kennedy’s than Lem did. That’s the problem.
When Lem goes home Lacey stays to clean. Literally. Tend to a grumpy first husband. Change poppy diapers. Get a literal headache from too much coffee and not enough sleep.
Worry her stomach will get too plump for her dress. That she has to wear in the spring. Because…*sigh and eye-roll* she just has to. *eye-roll*
“They didn’t have to worry about that normal human stuff. Rich people don’t poop!” yells the loudest perfume hater…seriously.
“No! They’re either reptilian aliens that glow nuclear waste into a different dimension or they’re too pretty to poo.” says a bourgeois man. “It’s what I aspire to be.” He smiles. “I’ll get there! Just you wait!”
“No! I know they shit.” a narcissist tries to shut the conversation down by saying. “My plan is to work with a sociopath to kill them in my clinic.” He’s a doctor.
“Yeah. Saw that coming. What will you do when all the annoying real old-money dies?” asks Lacey.
“They’ll just be dead.” he says like a…bimbo.
“And then you’ll go back to killing the kids?” she wonders.
“No. Then I’ll kill all the other adults I don’t like.” he says.
“Then I’ll kill the kids I guess. Or just let them die off.” He shrugs.
“What will you do for fun once all the people die?” she asks.
He looks unfazed. He smiles. He le sighs.
“I’ll watch television!” he says. “And order pizza.”
“How?” asks Lacey.
“I’m sure I can rig it up somehow. I’m smart!” he says. “And then I’ll take over the world.”
“And we’ll be dead?” she asks.
“But what if God exists and we’re happy?” she wonders.
“So I should try to keep kids alive or kill them?” he panics. He starts shaking. “Which is worse?!” He starts hyperventilating. “What happens if I can’t decide what’s most evil or if I decide not to be evil?”
“Are you afraid you’ll cease to exist if you aren’t evil?” asks Lacey.
“I’ll never be hot!” he says. “I’ll be an average loser!”
“If you aren’t evil?”
“I’ll be a nothing.” he says. He starts literally smashing his head into a wall.
“Do you hear God?” she wonders. He might be dead already and not know it.
And that’s thankfully the end of that conversation.
That man was actually quite handsome. Poor fool.
The thing is…it’s disturbing. How did Lem never seem to realize their humanity? Why was he always putting on a show? It’s not as if he was psychologically held hostage? Right?
It also seems like they were always putting on a show for him.
“Lacey, how do you see through them?” asks the loudest perfume hater.
“Because everyone is like that.” says Lacey.
The loudest perfume hater thinks.
“That’s true hun! So why don’t you act human?” asks a bourgeois hater.
“You don’t think anyone is human.” says Lacey in response. “If you weren’t so blinded by your imaginary bourgeois fantasyland you’d see reality in every human without narcissistically fainting.”
“Okay. But with some people it’s easier to see than others.” she says.
“I am human though.” says Lacey.
“What do you suppose were their real weaknesses?” she wonders.
“I almost want to say that they were mad.” says Lacey. “As in, insane.”
“Well that’s cliche adage that there’s a fine line between genius and madness. I think they all danced on the line.” says Lacey.
“Starting with Joe Sr..” she says. “And then Joe Jr. who blew himself up. And etc., etc..”
“Yes. From my experience they have…extreme imaginations.” She thinks. “They see so much. But it’s overwhelming and drives them mad…periodically. They can’t handle it especially if they lack character. At all.” She thinks. “Because it’s…overwhelming.”
“And they start killing themselves off to make sense of it all.” she says.
“Yes. Because it’s…death. They see life and death spread out before them in vivid colors constantly. Sometimes consciously. Sometimes subconsciously.” says Lacey. “It’s like magic. But it’s not.”
“Or divine right of kings.” says a woman.
“Yes. Except it’s America. And America isn’t supposed to be like that. So if you have terrifying gifts there’s no accounting for it.” says Lacey.
“Let’s see. It says, ‘You know what they’re thinking.’” says Joe Sr. reading a card from the hit game America. He squints. “I’m not supposed to be able to do that!” he whispers to God nervously. A man walks up to him and says exactly what he’s anticipating the man will say. It’s…depressing. He keeps going. Tries it repeatedly. It works almost every time.
He gets rich.
Then he meets Hitler. His match. And it’s not true that Joe was no match for Hitler but it’s of course also not not true. And the same thing could be said for Hitler, in a way.
“Neither of them were kings though.” says an observer.
“True. And I wonder how caustic that was.” says Lacey. “Would either of them be as dangerous to our sense of safety if they’d been kings?”
“No.” says a world leader. At least that might his opinion too.
“Does Hitler seem nice?” asks someone.
“He does.” she says. “I don’t trust him. But yes.”
“Like how nice?” she asks.
“Too nice. Poor thing.” says Lacey.
“Do you go back to Joe?” asks someone of Lacey. It creeps them out.
“She was never supposed to leave him.” says Scott seriously.
“A good Queen can only do so much.” says Lacey.
“She means Elizabeth II.”
“You can’t hold the Titanic on your back.” says Lacey.
“She would have if it was possible.”
“But it’s not.” says Lacey. “Thank goodness. That’s vile to me.”
“Could Philip have done it gracefully? If it was possible.”
“Yes.” says Lacey.
Michael smiles at Lacey.
“How does one go from Joe to Michael? When neither of them are alive? And you’re a housewife in Minnesota?” asks Lacey.
“Maybe you’re mad! And none of that is happening!” says Zelda. “As in, schizophrenic.”
“No. I’m not. It’s not that.” says Lacey. “At least, it’s not diagnosable and I highly doubt it.”
“There’s always a chance. Lem and I need to figure out our motivations and apologize, of necessary.” says Louis on their behalf.
“I’ll see. Lem, I’m sorry. I just don’t know enough.” says Lacey.