THE NOSE AND HIS PERFUME

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Twelve: The Man Behind the Nose

Christmas Eve, a camera crew came early to set up for the Nose’s TV special, laying cables and setting up cameras in the apartment. When it got closer to dinnertime, the children dressed up for it. The Varshavskys joined them in the living room to wait for the Nose, both wearing slacks and sweaters. The Nose arrived early, in a tuxedo.

“I overdressed, didn’t I?” he said, when he saw them.

The Nose seemed so anxious about being overdressed, Mr. V offered to lend him a sweater. The Varshavskys didn’t want to help the Nose with his TV special, but they didn’t want to appear suspicious either. They insisted they had to play along. Mr. V gave the Nose a worn, suede-elbow-patched cardigan to wear. The Nose brushed imagined lint off of his tuxedo jacket and hung it up in the hall closet. When he put the cardigan on, it engulfed his gangly, tall frame everywhere but the arms. He rolled up his sleeves to hide the fact that the sweater barely came down past his elbows and removed his bow tie. Taking a scarf out of the mass of winter clothes hanging on the coat hooks in the hall, he jauntily tossed the scarf around his neck, and considering himself in the mirror, asked Mr. V if he happened to have a pipe he could borrow. Mr. V shook his head no.

“Better?” the Nose asked, having transformed his look entirely.

No one had a chance to reply, because at that moment, Grayton’s Channel Four Watchdog, Carla Cheng, arrived. 

“Hi, I’m Carla. Call me Carla,” Carla said, introducing herself to everyone.

What J-F had told them about the formerly serious, hard-edged reporter was true. She was spritzing herself with XEssence nonstop and giddy as a kid on too much sugar.

“I hear you’re big fans of the Nose too,” Carla winked at the children.

An older woman with a clipboard pulled her away, sitting her down in front of the crackling fire in the fireplace. A cameraman began filming Carla sitting in front of the fire, saying, “Good evening, I’m Carla Cheng, and you’re watching The Man Behind The Nose,” over and over again because she kept getting distracted. It was like watching a blooper real.

“Good evening. I’m Carla Cheng and—why are there so many marshmallows? Can I eat one of them?”

The crew wasn’t much better off, as Carla kept spraying them with XEssence too. The only one who seemed unaffected was the woman with the clipboard, who was keeping her distance from Carla and barely maintaining order. The clipboard woman pushed the Varshavskys and the children to the sofa. No sooner had a man exuberantly powdered their faces, the cameras started rolling on the Nose, Carla, the children, and the Varshavskys seated in the living room.

“Before we start, I brought some XEssence for you to try,” the Nose said to Carla.

“Excellent,” Carla clapped.

The Nose got up and retrieved a XEssence store bag that he had brought with him. The cameras started rolling again.

“So, you live in this apartment, right above the store where the Nose makes his amazing perfume,” Carla said to the children. “That must be exciting. Tell me, what do you think of the Gingerbread Village?”

“They love it,” the Nose said, and then—as if Carla wasn’t already soaking in XEssence—he asked her if she wanted to try his perfume.

As the Nose spritzed Carla, Bunny realized the smell of all the XEssence was starting to make her feel extremely happy. As frustrating as it was that the reporter wasn’t asking any real questions, Bunny couldn’t help thinking it was fun. The interview was brief. Carla asked the children pointless questions, most of which the Varshavskys answered for them, and before she knew it, they were filming them eating dinner with Carla and the Nose.