I Can Get It for You Wholesale (13 page)

“Marmelstein,” she said.

“All right, Miss Marmelstein,” I said, “then you know what’s wanted of you.” Or did she? “You can take your things off and get to work.”

“Thank you, Mr. Bogen.”

I nodded briskly and turned back to the papers on my desk. Baby, I thought, wait till we get around to the point where I’m thanking
you.

I got up and walked to the filing cabinet at one side of the room. I opened the top drawer and began to thumb through the papers in it. I didn’t have to. I wasn’t looking for anything. But standing in that position, leaning over the pulled-out drawer, I could get a clear view of her in profile, as she sat at the switchboard, with her chest sticking out in a way that did my heart good.

She knew I was looking at her because I could see her face grow red and she put her hand up to the back of her neck to adjust the wave in her hair. Once or twice she almost turned around to face me, but she caught herself in time and kept her eyes fixed on the switchboard.

I laughed to myself when I thought of what her face would look like if I went up to her and told her what I was thinking. The temptation was so great that I almost walked over and began to speak.

Hello, Miss Marmelstein. How are you? That’s good. Oh, all right, thank you. Can’t kick. Don’t strain yourself, Miss Marmelstein. You don’t have to lean forward
that
far. In fact, Miss Marmelstein, you could have taken a day off to-day. I mean, for a change, you could have worn a brassiere to-day. What? Oh, pardon me. I didn’t
think
I was being subtle. No, of course not. I don’t mind. What I mean is, Miss Marmelstein, it’s no go to-day. There, there, now. Don’t take it that hard. You do? Well, I don’t really blame you. From what I understand, that’s the best way to take it. No, please, please, it’s not that. No reflection on your ability at
all
, Miss Marmelstein. Look, Miss Marmelstein, suppose you stop working so hard waving that chest of yours under my nose. Fine. There, that’s better. But—ha, ha, ha—I’m not displeased, though. It’s a good thing to find out. But not to-day. Some other time, maybe. To-day, Miss Marmelstein, to-day you’re a piece of handwriting on the wall, that’s what you are. Ha, ha, ha. You don’t? Why, that’s easy. Let me translate. You, of all people, should know how a good thing gets around. Doesn’t it, though? The competition gets terrific, doesn’t it, Miss Marmelstein? Before you know it, there are
too
many people around. And then, of course, there’s only one smart thing to do. And that’s to go and find something else. Yes, indeed, Miss Marmelstein, we’re both in the same boat. A thing that’s as good as my business can’t help getting a reputation. And all you need, Miss Marmelstein, is a reputation. You know that. My bet is that before long there’ll be dozens of people in the delivery business. But I won’t be one of them, Miss Marmelstein. Because I’ve seen the handwriting on the wall. And I’m getting out, Miss Marmelstein, while I’m still the only one that can see it. Do I make myself clear? That’s it. That’s it exactly. I’m going to cash in while I’m ahead. I
do
make myself clear? Good. You do? Well, that’s too bad. Because frankly, Miss Marmelstein, if I was as talented in one direction as you are, I wouldn’t
want
to learn anything else. Oh, now, please. It’s not that at all. I
would
teach you, if I could, Miss Marmelstein. But I’m afraid it won’t do. When it comes to a talent like that, Miss Marmelstein, it’s a lot like your figure. Votes don’t count. You’re either born that way, or you aren’t. So it doesn’t help to stuff the ballot boxes or pass out dime cigars. Miss Marmelstein! Please! I told you I wasn’t—Oh, well, all right. Let’s.

I walked back to my desk and moved around the papers on top of it for a few minutes. Then I took my hat and went over to the switchboard.

“I’m going out, Miss Marmelstein,” I said, staring hard at her. They looked like the money, all right, but the way they built brassieres nowadays, you never could tell. Still, this looked like it was worth the trouble of finding out. “I’ll be back a little late. You can put my messages in the book and I’ll—but wait. I’ll tell you what. I’ll try to get back before six. You wait for me, will you? I’m going out to see some people, and I may want to dictate a couple of letters when I get back. I’ll try to get back as early as I can.”

Well, I said I’d
try
, didn’t I?

“All right, Mr. Bogen,” she said.

As I walked down the street I kept meeting my clients. I nodded and said hello and moved on. By the time I reached the bank I was good and sore. My business was good. But compared with some of the heels whose bundles my men schlepped at two bits a piece, my take was chicken feed. I had more on the ball than they had, and there was no reason why I couldn’t deal myself a couple of hands from the same deck. Why should I be jockeying their bundles? Why shouldn’t I be in a position where I was hiring guys to make deliveries for me?

I didn’t bother trying to figure out the answer to this one. As far as I was concerned there wasn’t any. I was glad I’d run into those clients. Now I knew what my next move was going to be.

“Give it to me in fives,” I said to the teller.

It was Thursday, Mama’s payday. I got a kick out of giving it to her in small bills, so that it felt like a lot. It was a pleasure to hand it to her. In fact, if I didn’t keep close watch on myself, I would’ve found myself not only giving it to her in a big wad, but also made up of big bills. That’s the kind of soft-hearted dope I am. But there was no hurry. When my next move went through, she’d get her cut. I’d see to that. For me, the world owed her a little extra.

When I got out, I stood in the street, hesitating. Three-thirty in the afternoon, and nothing to do. That was progress for you. But I wasn’t satisfied. There were guys who had nothing to do after as early as twelve o’clock. And there were some who didn’t have to go to work at all, weren’t there? Well, at least I had a goal.

I decided to go up to the Capitol.

When I got out, the clock on the Paramount said six-thirty. But I didn’t hurry. I knew my customers. She’d be there.

I came into the office briskly, though, like I’d just settled a deal for moving Pennsylvania Station over to Forty-Second Street and shifting Grand Central over to Thirty-Third.

She was at the switchboard, typing away busily.

“Sorry to be so late,” I said, “but I was detained at a conference.”

“That’s all right, Mr. Bogen,” she said.

It was, eh? Well, we’d soon see.

I breezed into my private office, slammed the drawers of my desk around a little, then came out again, holding a blank sheet of paper.

“What’s that you’re working on?” I asked.

“The bills,” she said. “Mr. Maltz said it’s the first of the month—”

“Good for Mr. Maltz,” I said.

“I beg your pardon, Mr. Bogen?”

“Don’t bother,” I said. “Mr. Maltz was just telling you it was the first of the month and—”

“And he said I should type up the bills,” she continued. “He said they had to be in the mail to-night.”

“That’s right,” I said. “By the way, where
is
Mr. Maltz?”

“Why, he’s not here, he—”

“You mean that?”

She looked startled, then she saw my smile and she smiled too.

“I mean, he left a short while ago. He said he had an appointment.”

“Oh,” I said. “For a while, from what you said, I thought he was hiding under a desk or something.”

That one was pretty lousy, but what the hell, when you’re paying them a salary, they laugh at the lousy ones, too. She laughed.

“No, Mr. Bogen. He left. He said he had an appointment.”

“We-ell, I’ll tell you,” I said, scratching my head and looking at the piece of blank paper in my hand, “I wanted to give you a couple of letters on this, but—” I looked at the typewriter. “—But Mr. Maltz was right. Those bills have to be in the mail to-night. Otherwise we don’t get our checks in on time. I’ll tell you what,” I said suddenly, like Morgan deciding to float a small loan for England. “Those bills are a good hour’s job. It’s almost seven now. Suppose we both go down for a bite, then, when we come back, I can give you these letters, and after you’ve finished typing up the bills, and while you’re typing these letters for me, I’ll give you a hand with folding the bills and putting them in envelopes. Like that we’ll both get out earlier. What do you say?”

“All right,” she said quickly.

Well, well, well. This was going to be interesting.

“Wait’ll I get my hat,” I said.

There goes another rule, I said to myself as I adjusted the brim in the mirror. And a good one, too. Never crap where you eat. But I don’t worry much about breaking rules. As long as I know them, that’s enough for me.

And besides, this was different. I was paying her a salary anyway, wasn’t I? And the office rent was the same whether I used it eight hours a day or twenty-four, wasn’t it? And besides, that rule was only for rummies, to see that they don’t get themselves tied up. Which was something I didn’t have to worry about. I don’t get myself tied up.

A
WEEK LATER I
was watching Tootsie through the crack in my door. I waited until he put on his topcoat and hat and began to pull on his gloves.

“Say, Tootsie!” I called.

He stopped short and looked quickly toward my room, but I knew he couldn’t see me. The opening wasn’t wide enough.

“Can I see you for a minute, Tootsie?”

I spoke in a loud voice so he could hear me through the partitions.

“Sure,” he said, coming back. “Be right in,” he said and began to wrestle out of the coat.

“You can come in the way you are,” I said. “I won’t keep you long.”

He stopped fooling with the topcoat and looked like a kid that’s been caught in the icebox. Then he tried to get back as far into the coat as he’d been when I called him, at the same time walking toward my room. The result was that when he came in, he looked like something the cat forgot to drop at the door. It’s a funny thing about clothes. If you’ve got the build, and you know how to carry them, you can look like a million bucks in a nineteen-seventy-five. But if you haven’t got that natural feel for clothes, it doesn’t make any difference how much you spend on them. There was Tootsie, standing before me in one of the snappiest numbers that Kolmer-Marcus ever put out. I’d helped him pick it myself and I’d seen him lay seventy-five dollars in American money on the counter for it. But for all the good it was doing his appearance, he could have left it hanging in his closet.

“I’ll tell you what I wanted you for,” I said, and stopped as though I had just noticed something. “Say, your coat there, it’s on all cockeyed. The collar’s bent in.”

“Yeah—I—I was,” he began, flushing and stuttering all over the lot as he tried to straighten the coat out over his form. He could have saved himself the trouble. Nothing would ever fit him right. He was built like a dumbbell.

“Well, I’ll tell you,” I said, turning back to the papers on my desk, “if you’re in a hurry, then suppose we let it go till to-night.”

“I’m not in any hurry,” he said. “If you want—”

I turned around to look at him.

“You’re not in any hurry?” I said.

“Well, I mean—I—I mean, if there’s anything you
want,
I—”

“That’s all right,” I said. “It’ll keep. I’ll see you about it some other time. There’s no rush. To-night is time enough.”

“Okay,” he said, and turned to go.

“That is,” I added, “if you can tear yourself away by tonight.”

He whirled around.

“What do you—?”

“Skip it, Tootsie,” I said, smiling at him. “Skip it.”

After all, I’d done him out of it once before. But that was the first night, when I had to show him who was boss. Now, though, there was no need for another demonstration. I might just as well give him a break. God knows, there weren’t many times when a guy could afford to be generous. Why be a louse, when I didn’t have to be? A guy has to give up his principles
some
times.

“Let’s make it for to-night,” I said. “Okay? I want to talk to you about something.”

“Well, I won’t be back to-night,” he said.

I raised my eyebrows. Maybe another demonstration
was
in order.

“I beg your pardon?” I said elaborately, putting my palm behind my ear. “Did I understand you to say you’re
not
coming back to-night?”

He dropped his eyes from mine.

“I mean, Harry,” he said, “I mean I made arrangements to go up to the mountains for the week end. I didn’t know you—”

“Oh!” I said, dropping back in my chair and waving my hand at him. “That’s
different.
I didn’t know that. I just thought I heard wrong, that’s all. You go right ahead, Tootsie. Monday is all right.”

“I’m here now, ain’t I? If you wanna—”

“Shall we make it Monday morning?” I said with a grin. “Say, about nine-thirty or ten? That ought to give you time enough.”

“Listen, Harry. You can’t—”

“Nine-thirty Monday morning, Tootsie?”

He opened his mouth and then closed it. “Okay,” he said, “I’ll be back Monday,” and went out.

I wasn’t positive yet, of course. But I was certain that before long I would know what I needed Tootsie for. I had a hunch I’d know why I hadn’t tossed him out on his tail as soon as the delivery service was going good.

I picked up the receiver and spoke to Miss Marmelstein.

“Get my home,” I said.

A few moments later Mother was on the wire.

“Hello, Ma.”

“Hello, Heshie,” she said. “What’s the matter?”

“What do you mean, what’s the matter?” I said. “Does something have to be the matter before a fellow can call up his mother?”

“God forbid,” she said. “But just the same, what’s the matter?”

“Nothing’s the matter,” I said. “I just wanted to try out the new telephone. How does it feel to have a telephone in the house? How do
you
feel?”

“How should I feel?” she said. “The same as I felt when you left in the morning. All right. And how do you feel?”

“I feel all right, Ma,” I said.

“So I feel all right and you feel all right,” she said, “So it’s perfect. Now, Heshie, what’s the matter?”