Dr. Levi Levi's Memoirs Part 3

So, July 4th came, and One was throwing a pool party. Though the other housewives threw occasional small parties, it was more common for One to hold an extravaganza for the twelve families in the cul de sac, plus yours truly, her favorite ex-Nazi scientist. One was obsessed with throwing parties. Like everything else, he had to be the best hostess, or perhaps the best host.

As much as he planned, these parties never went his way, and yet I treasure each one. He is a very good baker, after all. I remember very well the Mardi Gras party he threw when we first moved in. I had to pretend to be allergic to shellfish, like my half brother Dr. Engelbert, and I accidentally did too good of a job. But that’s a story for another day. (The Dresden Eierschecke at that party was the best I had ever had, at least.)

I acted the best Germanic, and arrived five minutes before the noon start time. One asked me, in what-he-seemed-to-think sounded like an innocent tone, whether I had taken advantage of the plus one on the invitation. I used my acting skills to break out in tears. However, One was distracted from comforting me by the appearance of the Twelves, who he harangued for some reason. Poor Twelve could never do anything right in One’s critical eyes. I slipped away and joined the party.

At three o’clock, there was supposed to be an outdoor performance by Polly, Two’s twin brother. However, Hashem decided to change the plan and made it rain. As the children enjoyed the clown show in the living room, the adults went down to the basement where One had set up a complete wet bar. So there I was with a captive audience. The twenty five of us; twelve Spartan Housewives, and their husbands, and yours truly, sitting in this suburban finished basement made to look like an old Boston saloon, with jade-and-yellow tiffany lamps and elephant-head soda water dispensers. Outside, the summer rain poured with no restraint. I could barely hear the clown music or the children’s laughter at Two’s unemployed brother. There was a pool table, but nobody was really in the mood to play pool. The parents were tired already from wrangling the kids and grilling the meat. Mr. Eight wanted to drink rum, which the Satanist declared was his one vice in his regimented life, but One insisted no one drink hard liquor. As a result, I was forced to drink American beer and curse Andrew Volstead. I had planned to bring up the idea during supper, but now seemed a more fortuitous time.

“Ladies,” I said, “now that you are all here, would you like to come to my self-improvement seminar at Deep Creek Lake?”

One was first to speak, saying flirtatious, “Oh, Dr. Engelbert, I would join any project run by your competent, clever hands.As long as you don’t go overboard with it, like you did during the War.”

Twelve spoke next. “Yeah, I’m not sure about this seminar.”

Five said, “Oh, I have been wanting to go to Deep Creek Lake but I haven’t gotten the chance yet. I want to see the artificial lake. Did you know that Maryland has no natural lakes?”

“Girl,” Six remarked, “Nobody cares about your geographical trivia, we care about—what the hell is this ‘self-improvement seminar’?”

Eleven asked, “Yes, Dr. Engelbert, what will happen at this self-improvement seminar?”

I explained, “It will last one month, from July 11th to August 9th. It will be entirely female, as I am working to deal with the issues of the modern American housewife. There will be a female chaperone, a Miss Fisher, who has both training as a secretary and as a resident nurse. And I can assure you, she is a woman of the highest personal character. I will live separately from you, though still within reach if you need me in the middle of the night. However, I am sure we can all be trusted not to break the commandments since you are all respectable married women.”

“Ah, yes, I can assure you I am a respectable married woman,” One laughed, “though I cannot vouch for everyone else.”

Eleven asked, “What will we be doing during this month?”

“Yeah,” Six added, “are we waiting to get our residency in Maryland so we can get a slower, more Catholic divorce?”

I answered, “After you settle in and rest during Saturday and Sunday, starting Monday I will interview each participant on her personal history, so I can get a better idea of what kind of a modern American housewife she is. After another break for the Sabbath, I will again meet with you one-on-one for certain relaxation techniques that will help you be more efficient in your lives as housewives.”

Ten said, “I would like to be more efficient.”

Mr. Three said, “Can you help with alcoholism?”

“And with gambling problems,” Mr. Seven added, “can you help with that?”

I answered, “Those are exactly the type of inefficiencies I am looking to improve, thank you gentleman for bringing them up.”

Three muttered something and Mr. Three wrapped his arm around his wife and said, “You know it will be better this way. Nature can inspire poetry and sometimes political essays.”

Four declared, “She does not write about nature. She writes about crucified saints.”

I said, “Yes, along with enjoying the self-improvement seminar, which will also include lectures by me on mental hygiene and vitamin shots, you can also enjoy the beauty of nature in late summer.”

Mr. Two said, “Ah yes, late summer, when the air contains more molecules of insects than oxygen.”

Two added to his husband’s jape with, “You won’t even need to buy food, you can just breath and get all the protein you need.” He continued. “Though that does remind me, how are you going to feed everyone? I come from circus folk so I know how hard it is to feed a crowd.”

Six said, “And I used to run a ranch, so I know hungry folk too.”

One said, “I am certain that Dr. Engelbert is as fine a host as I am a hostess. He has experience managing these things.”

Twelve said shyly, “Um, last time he ran a camp, things didn’t go so well for the people in it.”

One gasped. “Martha! How dare you say that!”

Mr. Twelve drawled, “Is it not true? He’s a Nazi.”

Five soothed, “Yes, he got somewhat involved in Nazism in his youth, but he wasn’t running the camp; only working for it. And he is making fine Christian amends by helping Peggy with her alcoholism, and Grace with her gambling, and everyone else with whatever is ailing them.”

“Hear hear,” said Mr. Five.

“I don’t care what anyone says, nobody is born evil and nobody is destined to be evil. Original sin is hooey, you can’t tell me babies are evil. Everyone has their own inner light that can lead them to perfection.”

“Our Fritz friend’s inner light must be shining like a blooming lighthouse.” Mr. Five slapped me on the back, making me almost spill my awful American beer.

One declared, “And now he’s fighting the true ultimate evil in this world: Communism.”

Two said, “We’re getting off topic: do you know how much mayonnaise you’ll need to buy? You might think a small jar is enough but it won’t be, you have to buy in bulk.”

“I have everything prepared,” I said, thinking I definitely did not. And I’d have to ask Two for advice on making enough sandwiches for twenty six people.

Mr. Eight said, “All these fancy ten dollar words and you haven’t told us how hard this will hit our pocketbooks.”

“Mr. Eight,” I said, “I assure you that the seminar is completely free. No charge to you.”

Mr. Four asked, “Who is paying for this?”

I answered, “Why, it’s George Mason University.”

Mr. Three said, “George Mason University is quite generous.”

“The psychology department is different from the political science department.”

Mr. Eight said, “Look, there’s more to expenses than what you pay. It costs me money to have my barbershop open. And I need my barbers working—the same goes for my household. Who will take care of my children, my legacy?”

I answered, “I will provide childcare while your wives are improving themselves.”

“But what about the cooking and cleaning?”

Eight pointed out, “We have a maid.”

He said to Eight, “Yes, and he should pay for her! He should pay for everyone’s maid and give us a stipend.”

I interjected, “I can arrange that.”

“No, it will be arranged now. You should give us husbands $30.^[1]”

“$30? That much?”

“Otherwise, I will not allow her to go to your precious seminar.”

“Okay, you will get $30 to pay for maid service.”

“No, on top of paying for the maid service. There are things I require from my wife that a maid can’t do, after all.”

“Yes, you will get a $30 stipend, and I will pay for your maid service and childcare.”

“See how easy that was? You should have said that from the beginning.”

Six added, “Yeah, no such thing as a free lunch.”

Nine got up and started clapping. “Oh, this seminar sounds like a rocking time!” He turned to his husband. “Can I join?”

Mr. Nine said, “It couldn’t hurt.”

“Yes,” I agreed, “It won’t just not hurt, this will change your life for the better. With my decades of experience in psychology and the natural beauty of the Appalachian mountains and valleys, I am sure I can turn everyone’s life around.”

Five proclaimed, “It sounds like a heroic endeavor, Dr. Engelbert.”

Six said, “Sounds like my divorce ranch.”

Eleven asked, “What will happen after the seminar?”

I said, “I am glad you asked that. Afterwards, I shall meet with each of you on the following Sunday, to see your progress, and of course, to continue giving you your weekly vitamin shots.”

“How long will you be monitoring us?”

“Only for a year, don’t worry. I’m sure you’ll enjoy sharing your progress with me like we’re long time friends.”

Mr. Ten said, “Sounds like a sound experiment.”

“So,” I said, “do all the ladies here want to sign up?”

Everyone agreed, until it came to my prize patient. He looked at his husband, and then looked sadly at me.

“Sorry, everyone, I don’t think I can do this. I just don’t trust this seminar or Dr. Englebert.”

One sighed. “You would be like this, wouldn’t you? Disgrace my guest by calling him untrustworthy.”

Mr. Twelve yelled, “So everyone else is untrustworthy except the literal fucking Nazi!”

“Language!”

Twelve said, “Look, I’m sure Dr. Engelbert feels guilty about what happened during the War, but I’d still rather just spend my summer at home with my husband. He needs my help.”

Mr. Twelve rubbed Twelve’s arms. They walked upstairs together. Though the mood was now deflated, nobody else turned down the seminar. I managed to arrange things with those eleven housewives. But my thoughts were on Twelve. If I did not have all twelve housewives in this cul de sac, this experiment would not be complete. The project must have twelve patients, or none at all. Twelve was the sacred number here. Besides which, I liked Twelve very much.

Around 4pm, the rain cleared up and we all went back outside. Three tried to organize various party games and suggested a bridge tournament, but everyone wanted to instead socialize by the pool. Then at 5pm, cocktail hour happened. I could finally drink an Old-Fashioned instead of that sour American beer. Three drank enough vodka to occupy himself. At 6pm, we had a slow, leisurely dinner, consisting of Virginia ham, southern fried chicken, and BBQ brisket; very Southern, though our host was from Wisconsin. For dessert, One made a beautiful red, white, and blue chiffon cake; very patriotic. At 9pm, One was set to do a trick shooting act with accompanying ground fireworks, but Six upstaged him by bringing aerial fireworks. And they had an argument about that.

I decided to avoid this by going to the basement to decompress. While I was there, I saw Twelve eating an entire package of nova lox by himself. It was then I approached him to convince him to join the seminar. This was the first time I felt like we bonded. After that, we were friends for life.

Afterwards, I said goodbye to the party members. My twelve housewives, as I began to think of them, were excited to join this seminar. I had sold it so well, I thought I could have been a salesman in a previous life.
Though they did not know what was in store for them, all of them desperately wanted to change their lives for the better. How can I be faulted for that? They were all troubled women. And I planned to make them strong men.