Part 4
thing--You know what I mean. I don't know. Or I start thinking about--Christ, it's
embarrassing--I start thinking about this goddam poem I sent her when we first started
goin' around together. `Rose my color is. and white, Pretty mouth and green my eyes.'
Christ, it's embarrassing--it used to remind me of her. She doesn't have green eyes--she
has eyes like goddam sea shells, for Chrissake--but it reminded me anyway ... I don't
know. What's the usea talking? I'm losing my mind. Hang up on me, why don't you? I
mean it."
The gray-haired man cleared his throat and said, "I have no intention of hanging up
on you, Arthur. There's just one--"
"She bought me a suit once. With her own money. I tell you about that?"
"No, I--"
"She just went into I think Tripler's and bought it. I didn't even go with her. I mean
she has some goddam nice traits. The funny thing was it wasn't a bad fit. I just had to
have it taken in a little bit around the seat--the pants--and the length. I mean she has
some goddam nice traits."
The gray-haired man listened another moment.
Then, abruptly, he turned toward the girl. The look he gave her, though only glancing,
fully informed her what was suddenly going on at the other end of the phone. "Now,
Arthur. Listen. That isn't going to do any good," he said into the phone. "That isn't going
to do any good. I mean it. Now, listen. I say this in all sincerity. Willya get undressed
and get in bed, like a good guy? And relax? Joanie'll probably be there in about two
minutes. You don't want her to see you like that, do ya? The bloody Ellenbogens'll
probably barge in with her. You don't want the whole bunch of 'em to see you like that,
do ya?" He listened. "Arthur? You hear me?"
"God, I'm keeping you awake all night. Everything I do, I--"
"You're not keeping me awake all night," the grayhaired man said. "Don't even think
of that. I've already told you, I've been averaging about four hours' sleep a night. What I
would like to do, though, if it's at all humanly possible, I'd like to help you, boy." He
listened. "Arthur? You there?"
"Yeah. I'm here. Listen. I've kept you awake all night anyway. Could I come over to
your place for a drink? Wouldja mind?"
The gray-haired man straightened his back and placed the flat of his free hand on the
top of his head, and said, "Now, do you mean?"
"Yeah. I mean if it's all right with you. I'll only stay a minute. I'd just like to sit down
somewhere and--I don't know. Would it be all right?"
"Yeah, but the point is I don't think you should, Arthur," the gray-haired man said,
lowering his hand from his head. "I mean you're more than welcome to come, but I
honestly think you should just sit tight and relax till Joanie waltzes in. I honestly do.
What you want to be, you want to be right there on the spot when she waltzes in. Am I
right, or not?"
"Yeah. I don't know. I swear to God, I don't know."
"Well, I do, I honestly do," the gray-haired man said. "Look. Why don't you hop in bed
now, and relax, and then later, if you feel like it, give me a ring. I mean if you feel like
talking. And don't worry. That's the main thing. Hear me? Willya do that now?"
"All right."
The gray-haired man continued for a moment to hold the phone to his ear, then
lowered it into its cradle.
"What did he say?" the girl immediately asked him. He picked his cigarette out of the
ashtray--that is, selected it from an accumulation of smoked and halfsmoked cigarettes.
He dragged on it and said, "He wanted to come over here for a drink."
"God! What'd you say?" said the girl.
"You heard me," the gray-haired man said, and looked at her. "You could hear me.
Couldn't you?" He squashed out his cigarette.
"You were wonderful. Absolutely marvellous," the girl said, watching him. "God, I feel
like a dog!"
"Well," the gray-haired man said, "it's a tough situation. I don't know how marvellous
I was."
thing--You know what I mean. I don't know. Or I start thinking about--Christ, it's
embarrassing--I start thinking about this goddam poem I sent her when we first started
goin' around together. `Rose my color is. and white, Pretty mouth and green my eyes.'
Christ, it's embarrassing--it used to remind me of her. She doesn't have green eyes--she
has eyes like goddam sea shells, for Chrissake--but it reminded me anyway ... I don't
know. What's the usea talking? I'm losing my mind. Hang up on me, why don't you? I
mean it."
The gray-haired man cleared his throat and said, "I have no intention of hanging up
on you, Arthur. There's just one--"
"She bought me a suit once. With her own money. I tell you about that?"
"No, I--"
"She just went into I think Tripler's and bought it. I didn't even go with her. I mean
she has some goddam nice traits. The funny thing was it wasn't a bad fit. I just had to
have it taken in a little bit around the seat--the pants--and the length. I mean she has
some goddam nice traits."
The gray-haired man listened another moment.
Then, abruptly, he turned toward the girl. The look he gave her, though only glancing,
fully informed her what was suddenly going on at the other end of the phone. "Now,
Arthur. Listen. That isn't going to do any good," he said into the phone. "That isn't going
to do any good. I mean it. Now, listen. I say this in all sincerity. Willya get undressed
and get in bed, like a good guy? And relax? Joanie'll probably be there in about two
minutes. You don't want her to see you like that, do ya? The bloody Ellenbogens'll
probably barge in with her. You don't want the whole bunch of 'em to see you like that,
do ya?" He listened. "Arthur? You hear me?"
"God, I'm keeping you awake all night. Everything I do, I--"
"You're not keeping me awake all night," the grayhaired man said. "Don't even think
of that. I've already told you, I've been averaging about four hours' sleep a night. What I
would like to do, though, if it's at all humanly possible, I'd like to help you, boy." He
listened. "Arthur? You there?"
"Yeah. I'm here. Listen. I've kept you awake all night anyway. Could I come over to
your place for a drink? Wouldja mind?"
The gray-haired man straightened his back and placed the flat of his free hand on the
top of his head, and said, "Now, do you mean?"
"Yeah. I mean if it's all right with you. I'll only stay a minute. I'd just like to sit down
somewhere and--I don't know. Would it be all right?"
"Yeah, but the point is I don't think you should, Arthur," the gray-haired man said,
lowering his hand from his head. "I mean you're more than welcome to come, but I
honestly think you should just sit tight and relax till Joanie waltzes in. I honestly do.
What you want to be, you want to be right there on the spot when she waltzes in. Am I
right, or not?"
"Yeah. I don't know. I swear to God, I don't know."
"Well, I do, I honestly do," the gray-haired man said. "Look. Why don't you hop in bed
now, and relax, and then later, if you feel like it, give me a ring. I mean if you feel like
talking. And don't worry. That's the main thing. Hear me? Willya do that now?"
"All right."
The gray-haired man continued for a moment to hold the phone to his ear, then
lowered it into its cradle.
"What did he say?" the girl immediately asked him. He picked his cigarette out of the
ashtray--that is, selected it from an accumulation of smoked and halfsmoked cigarettes.
He dragged on it and said, "He wanted to come over here for a drink."
"God! What'd you say?" said the girl.
"You heard me," the gray-haired man said, and looked at her. "You could hear me.
Couldn't you?" He squashed out his cigarette.
"You were wonderful. Absolutely marvellous," the girl said, watching him. "God, I feel
like a dog!"
"Well," the gray-haired man said, "it's a tough situation. I don't know how marvellous
I was."
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