Seventh Avenue (44 page)

Eva was wearing a black, sequined, low-necked dress.
She had
changed her lipstick, and Jay felt happier.
Two couples were talking
loudly at her, and Jay watched her holding court while the barman
rattled a jug of martinis with a long metal spoon.

“
The man himself,” she said, and the four of them turned to look
at him.

“
Worth waiting for,” one of the women said.

“
Where’ve you been, darling?”

“
Buying myself bread.”

“
Oh, he’s always kidding. Never know when to take him seriously.
Jay, these lovely people have asked us to join them for dinner. I
wouldn’t make a decision until I asked you.”

“
Sure. Why not?”

“
Party, party,” a man in a seersucker suit and crew cut said. He
forced his hand on Jay. “Mah name’s Hiram Gilbert and this is my
wife Florence.
We’re from Atlanta.
Where you folks from?”

“
New York.”

“
Yankees,” his wife cackled.

The other
couple
was also from
Atlanta,
and they were called
Langford.

“
You call me Lang and him Gil,
heah
?” Langford guffawed.

It was like that for ten days. Jay even got to like Southern
Comfort,
and he liked the women so much that he slept with both of them,
separately, but on the same afternoon, while Eva soaked her stockings
in the bidet. He smiled to himself when he overheard Gil and Lang
talking heatedly about how much they’d give for a peep inside Eva’s
drawers. They only had to buy her a drink.

He pulled the big Caddy convertible into Huntingdon Close. The
engine purred softly down the new macadam. The road was lined
with Oregon spruce,
pine,
and fir. Huge trees bought fully grown
by the householders of the road; they got shade, the illusion of
privacy in an area where even what a man ate for dinner was public
knowledge, and they represented a tacit cognition of not to say a
communion with nature. Man cannot live by mortar alone, but most
of the people on the road did. Neal had drifted into a doze on the ride
home, and Jay was reluctant to wake him. He slid the big car into
the driveway circling the house and turned off the ignition. He
opened Neal’s door with care, arched his arm under his back and lifted
him up. Thin for his age, needs fattening up. Needs
care,
Jay
thought. He pressed the
buzzer,
and the maid came immediately.
She was about to speak, but Jay put his finger to his lips, and indicated Neal, sleeping in his arms. She walked quickly up the stairs
and opened the door of Neal’s room. A bedside lamp was switched
on, and Jay began to undress Neal. Neal
stirred,
and Jay shushed
him.

“
It’s late,” he said. “And you’ve had a big dinner.”

“
All right,” Neal said, closing his
eyes
as Jay and the maid put
his pajamas on. Jay opened the windows and then kissed Neal on the
forehead.

The maid was waiting outside on the landing for him.

“
Whatsa matter, Ruby?”

“
Dunno what to say. Mrs. Blackman . . .”

“
Well, what about her?”

“
I’d like to give you notice.”

“
Notice? What for?”

“
She’s
downstairs .
. . that’s all. I’ll go in the morning. You get
yourself another girl from the agency.”

“
Now what’s this all about? We like you.”

“
And I like
you.”
She pointed a finger at Jay to make her meaning
clear.

He hurried down the stairs, taking them two at a time, and rushed
into the study, but she wasn’t there. He saw
a light
from under the
living room
door
and heard the sound of music, something
low
and
romantic, coming from the room. He pushed
open
the door
slowly
until it was flush against the
wall,
and he could take in the full room.
Eva was stripped down to her brassiere and
panties,
and a man was sitting on the sofa applauding softly, like an opera lover at the end of
an aria.

“
Just in time for the late show,” Eva said.

Jay pointed to the door and told the man to get out.

“
Just a minute, pal. I was invited in here.”

“
Get out before I throw you out and then run you down with my
car.”

“
A tough guy, huh?”

“
Look, this is my
house
and my wife.”

“
Oh, so you remembered who I was?” Eva piped in.

“
Sorry, I didn’t know this lady was married,” the man said, starting for the door. “I got a totally wrong impression.”

“
Yeah, well it’s been corrected for you.”

“
He’s my guest,” Eva shouted.

“
Get dressed and go to a motel with him if you like, or go to bed.”

“
Alone again?”

“
Didn’t your mother ever teach you a little proverb? You don’t
shit where you eat. There’s a child in the house. My child, and I don’t want him to be upset.”

“
But I’m upset, doesn’t that matter?”

“
See you folks,” the man said.

“
You upset?” Jay said contemptuously. “Nothing can upset you.”

“
The minute I met you my life was over. Only I didn’t realize it.”

“
What do you want?”

“
Love. I want you to love me. You did at one time. When Rhoda threw you out, it was me who picked up the pieces.”

“
You could’ve said no. I wouldn’t have minded.”

“
Then why did you come back and why did we live together for five years as man and wife, and why did you marry me?”

“
Because I didn’t care any longer.”

“
It was because of Marty wasn’t it?”

“
Marty? Why Marty?”

“
You were sore, weren’t you, that Marty should be interested in me?”

“
He was welcome to you.”

“
I wasn’t going to sit around waiting for you to come back whenever you goddamn pleased, or when you got tired of your college girl. And Marty was very sympathetic.”

“
I’m not interested in the details. I wasn’t at the time, and I’m not now.”

“
He was going to divorce his wife and marry me, did you know that?”

“
I saved him the trouble.”

“
And he stepped out like a gentleman.
Because he was more concerned about you than himself.”

“
I’ll thank
him
tomorrow at the office. Let’s forget ancient history. It proves nothing. Except that instead of one
mistake,
I made two.”

“
More than two. There’ll be Neal as well. You’re ruining him.”

“
Let me be the judge of that,” he said calmly. He was tired, and his heart palpitated. Irregular beats. He was getting dizzy. He moved the palm of his hand under his jacket, and she looked anxiously at him.

“
Jay, what’s wrong? Aren’t you feeling well?”

“
Just treat Neal with kindness and I’ll give you anything you want.”

“
I want it to be for my sake, not his.”

“It’s too late. Too late for romance.”

“It’s crazy. I’m still young and you too. You’ll live a long time if you take care of yourself . . . if you let me. We’ve got everything to live for. To be happy.”

He moved his hand away from his heart and lit a cigarette with a shaking hand.

“Eva, why don’t you get a divorce? This time it’ll be painless.”

She glared at him and came across the room, her face beet red, and said venomously:

“Never . . . I’m not going to be easy like Rhoda. I’ll never divorce you. I’ll see you dead first.”

“
She’s got a thing with him, huh?” Zimmerman asked as they
sat in the schoolyard after classes had ended. “Your mom, and Sports.
I think he’s a pretty nice guy.”

“
Your mother can marry him then.”

“
Aw, c’mon, she’s married to my father. They ca
n’t .
. .”

“
He’s a phony. You can tell a mile away.”

“
A nice one though.”

“
There’s no such thing as a nice
phony
. Either you’re real, like my
father,
or you’re nothing.”

Moony joined them. He was taller and altogether larger than Neal
and Zimmerman. He had slanting peanut-colored eyes, not quite
brown, not quite yellow, a large bulbous nose, hair stiff as cardboard
that
was held in place by something called
hair
trainer. His hair
was pushed forward in a three-inch pompadour, which he combed
and
recombed
four or five hundred times a day. An eleven-inch
comb jutted out of the back pocket of his electric
blue,
ten-inch
pegged trousers, which had dark blue pistol pockets in the back. He
always felt a bit inferior to the other boys because his father was a
mechanic and didn’t make as much money; consequently he was
the toughest, most aggressive boy in the school, feared by everyone
and the scourge of the teachers. He was the only boy in school who
had got laid, and Neal respected him.

“
What’re you crumbs doing?” Moony asked. He affected tough-guy
talk with anyone smaller than himself.

“
Wanta play stickball?” Zimmerman said.

“
It’s too hot.”

“
Here” - Neal
handed him a cigarette. “Have a Camel. Puts hair
on your balls.”

Moony took it greedily.

“
You always got some, don’t you?”

“
I say they’re for my mother when anyone asks.”

“
I didn’t mean that. I mean you got money for ‘em.”

“
So? Big deal. I’ve got the money.”

“
Know how I get mine?”

Both boys looked at him inquisitively.

“
I go on jobs.” He took something out of his pocket, pressed a
small button the size of a pinhead and there was a
zang
sound, and
they stood staring raptly at the steel blade, six inches long, which
glinted in the sun, and reminded Neal of the silver scaly back of
a sunfish he had once caught.

“
Wow, wow. A pushbutton.”

“
I saw one that the guineas use. It’s called a stiletto. Comes out of
the top. You hold it against a guy’s back and press the
button,
and
the knife goes into him.”

“
This one comes
outa
the side.”

“
Where’d you get it?” said Zimmerman, awestruck.

“
That
schmuck
that runs the army-navy store on Utica Avenue.
Know the one?”

“
Uh-huh.”

“
Well, I went into the store and asked him to get something from
the back. A tent. By the time he got it out, I’d opened the showcase
and robbed this. My big beautiful Betsy, that’s what I call her.”

“
What if someone catches you with it?” Neal asked.

“
You’re not chicken shit are you, Neal?”

“
No, I’m not.”

“
So why ask?”

“
What do you do with it? Play Territory?” Zimmerman interposed,
sticking out his hand to take
the knife,
which Moony let him hold.

“
On Friday nights when the movies are emptying out I pick
me a girl and follow her. Or maybe two girls. I wait till they’re alone
and then I take out my knife and tell ‘em to give me their
money,
or
I’ll
stick ‘em.”

Zimmerman could hardly believe his ears.

“
You don’t?”

“
I got four dollars last week. Pulled two jobs. And on one of them
when the girl handed over her dough, I felt her up too. She had real
big soft tits. Then I jerked off
in the bushes. Funny girl. She gave me
her name and address. Didn’t mind about the money. Said I should
come over to her house whenever I wanted to, but to bring my prick
along.”

“
Bullshit,” Neal said.

“
Want to come with me? She’s fourteen years old. Goes to Tilden.
Seymour from Carrol Street says she likes line-ups, and he ought to
know, ‘cause they had a gang-bang in his
clubroom,
and she was one
of the girls. Her and another broad from St. John’s Place. Fourteen
guys screwed them.”

“
Gee, I’d like to have been there,” Zimmerman said.

“
Get a little hair on your
petzel
first. I’m going tonight, so if you
don’t believe me, you can come too. It’ll cost you a buck. They may
have a
schvartzer
to give
blow jobs
. Wanta come?
Nice big thick
Ubangi lips on your skinny little winkie.
She pulled one guy’s off a
Chinaman - and now they call
him
One Ball Hung Low.”

“
I’ll come,” Neal said.

The challenge was irresistible, and as he studied Moony’s long,
horsey face, with its prescience, its overwhelming knowledge and
insistence on evil, he felt himself being swallowed up, drawn into
fellowship with the bigger boy.

“
I’ll meet you at nine o’clock in front of your house,” he said.

“
Who’ll have the bags?” Zimmerman asked.

“
You coming too?”

“
Yeah, please let me.”

“
Okay, but it’ll cost you a buck even if you don’t screw her.”

Both the television set and the radio were turned on full blast when
Neal entered the apartment. Sports had moved the kitchen table into
the small den, and sat with a bottle of rye and a mass of
squiggled
paper checking the results of the day’s baseball games and horse
races, and deciding his bets for the three night games.

“
Hiya, Neal,” he said amiably. “How was school?”

“
Okay.”

“
Your mom’s gone to the butcher and the grocery to do some
shopping.”

“
Why?”

“
For supper.”

“
She isn’t cooking, is she?”

“
Sure.”

“
She doesn’t know how,” Neal said contemptuously. “That’s why
we always eat out.”

“
No, it’s because she’s so busy at her store.
But she can cook.”

“You staying for supper?”

“If you don’t mind.”

“And if I do?”

“I’ll go. I’d like to be friends.”

“I’ve got friends.”

Sports poured himself a shot of rye and eased it back calmly. He was wearing another mohair suit that looked exactly like the one Neal had burned.

“We’ll get along fine. You’ll see,” Sports said.

“Are you going to marry my mother?”

“I’d like to.”

“You only know each other three weeks.”

“Time doesn’t matter in these things. You can know a person five years and not know anything about them. And you can meet somebody and in two, three weeks you know all about each other.”

Neal pondered for a moment the significance of Sports’ declaration of faith.

“Do you work?” he asked.

“I am working.”

“At what?”

“Well, if you can keep a secret I’ll tell you.” He paused and smiled at Neal. “I’ll tell you because I’m sure I can trust you. See, if the police found out what I do, they’d come and arrest me.”

“No kidding?”

Neal was shaking with excitement.

“Because what I do isn’t strictly legal. In some places, it’s legal but not here in New York.”

“Honest?”

“So if I trust you, you’ve got to keep it to yourself. Promise?”

“I swear to God.”

“I’m a bookmaker.”

“You bet on games and horses and things.”

“No, other people bet with me. There’s no reason why it shouldn’t be legal. The church kicks up a stink though, so the cops have no choice. I mean I could be a grocer, couldn’t I? There’s no law against selling milk and butter. It’s a service for people, and the grocer is entitled to make a profit. So I give a service to people. If they want to bet on the Yankees over Detroit, they can get off with me.”

“What happens if they win?”

“
I pay them, like a bank would, whatever they’ve bet.”

“
And if they lose?”

“
I made a profit. Nothing wrong with that, is there? I’m taking a
chance.”

“
Sure you are. Do you know how to cheat at
cards
and things like
that?”

Sports’ sallow skin turned a bright cherry red, and he eased the
large
Windsor
knot of his white silk tie and opened the top button of
his shirt. He poured himself another shot of rye and added an ice cube
and some ginger ale.

“
I never cheat,” he said primly. “But I know how it’s done. I’ve
got to in my business or else I’m sucker bait, aren’t I? Every now and
then when I’m playing gin with a heavy and I need a little edge, I
make a little
peckel
and it helps me over the hurdle. But it’s legit.”

“
Will you teach me how to cheat?”

“
I’ll show you how it’s done. What you do is your business, but it’s
not a good idea to cheat, ‘cause if you get caught, it can be a little
difficult healthwise. You can get an arm, a leg, both arms and legs
maybe, broken and you can do four or five months in the
hopsital
.
Or some night you’re crossing
a street
and
wham” - he
slammed his
palms
together,
and Neal jumped back – “a car bangs you.
Hit-and-run accident.
Better to be legit and try to get an edge.”

“
Gee, it must be exciting!” Neal said. Neal sensed that he was an
obsessive gambler, and therefore weak.

“
Listen, Neal. After supper, I promised to take your mom out.
Will it be okay?”

“
Sure.”

“
You don’t need a
babysitter
or nothin’?”

He threw out his chest like a Nazi on parade.

“
I’m twelve years old.”

“
Yeah, I forgot. You’re a big boy.”

Sports stuck out his
hand,
and Neal shook it. He wasn’t afraid of
Sports.

“
We’ll be friends, you and me. We just don’t crowd each other
and everything’s hunky
dory
.”