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Authors: John O'Hara

Tags: #Fiction, #Literary, #Family Life, #Classics

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BOOK: Appointment in Samarra
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She know I m coming?

She will. If you want the truth, she was cockeye dronk.

Oh, yeah? She s liable to

She wawnt leave the room. I have Marie to watch her. Marie was Lebrix s common law wife. Anyhow, that s what she said. You want to see her? She started to drink when she got op, without eating breakfast. She can t do dat. She can t drink at all. But no. It s Christmas. I have to drink. I have to get dronk. It s Christmas. God damn son of a bitch a bastard. I wish Ed would take her some other place. She is more trobble than she is worth.

Oh, well, said Al. Aw, well. Sure. Aw, well. If I had a woman do like that you bet she would not do it twice.

Oh, well, you know how it is, Fox, said Al. Lebrix nodded. Oh, pardon, he said. You have your dinner? Have a drink?

No, just a cuppa coffee.

Caf�Royale?

No, thanks, Fox. Just coffee. No drinks for me tonight.

Too bad. I ll order coffee. He pushed a button under the top of the desk and told a waiter to serve Al s coffee. Lots of reservations tonight. Several parties from Gibbsville, and a big dinner from Taqua. Jews. And that politician, Donovan, he has the nerve to reserve a table for ten for tonight. Cheap bastard son of a bitch.

He ll pay, said Al. Sure he ll pay. He ll hand me a century, like a big heavy spender, and I m soppose to thank him politely, but then I give him his change and it s ten sawbucks. The waiters are lucky if they get a tip. That s the way he is, the cheap bastard son of a bitch. I d like to give him a Mickey Finn. I never gave one of those in my life, but if I do, he will be the first.

You can t do that.

I know. You want to sit with Helene tonight?

I guess that s the best way.

Yes, I think so. Some of our guests, they get some of this so-called champagne in their bellies, and Miss Holman will begin to think she is Mistinguett.

What?

French entertainer. Yes, if your job is to keep an eye on her, you better be where she can see you so she will not forget herself. It s Christmas, my friend. She may give some thing away.

Huh. That s exactly what I was thinking.

So? said Lebrix. CHAPTER 4 THEY were driving south on the way to the club, down South Main Street. Caroline was smoking a cigarette and holding Julian s hand. He took the hand away to do shave-and-a-haircut on the horn button, signaling to the Cadillac just ahead of their own. Who s that? said Caroline. A good prospect, said Julian. Young Al Grecco.

Who s he? I know him by name. Who is he?

He s a sort of a yes man for Ed Charney, said Julian. The coup�in front turned off to the left, to the Lincoln Street bridge, and apparently Al Grecco did not hear the signal. He did not turn his head or answer with bay-rum on the horn of the coup� Oh, he s the one that went to Philadelphia for the champagne. Did he get it? said Caroline. If Mr. Charney wants champagne, whoever is told to get it, gets it.

Oh, I don t believe it. Why are people so afraid of him?

I m afraid of him, said Julian. You are not. You re not afraid of anyone. My big strong man. My mate.

Nuts to you, sister, he said. Don t call me sister, and don t say nuts.

Say masticate, said Julian. God, did you ever hear anyone like Mother? Did you hear her telling the old gent not to say masticate? You know she hasn t the remotest idea why she doesn t like the word.

I ll bet she has. Women aren t that dumb.

I say she hasn t the remotest idea why she doesn t like the word. Somewhere in the back of her mind the sound of the word has a dirty connotation, but what it is she isn t sure. So she thinks she prefers simple language. Did you ever masticate?

None of your business.

Did you?

I m getting a little tired of this, said Caroline. So am I, said Julian. They rode for a while, and then he said: When are we going to have a kid?

I don t know. When are we? she said. No, seriously, when are we?

You know. The five years will be up soon.

The Five Year Plan, he said slowly. Well, maybe you re right.

I know I m right. Look at these kids, Jeanie and Chuck. Married less than two years, hardly more than a year, and Jeanie may have to have false teeth. Mind you, false teeth, and do you remember her teeth? She had the loveliest strong white teeth I ever saw

Except yours.

Well, except mine. But hers were beautiful and just right. Smallish and nice and really sparkling. Mine are bigger, and they don t sparkle.

They dazzle me, he said. He snapped off the headlights. We ll use your sparkling teeth for headlights.

Put the lights on, you fool, she said. No kidding, it s awful. She s only twenty-one. Just twenty-one, and she s absolutely a married woman. A married woman with a child. And

And a husband. And what a husband.

Exactly! said Caroline. Chuck. That little twirp Jeanie. Why, he isn t good enough to ...

To what. Finish it.

No, I m not fooling. Chuck running around with that girl from Kresge s and the other day at bridge club Barbara Schultz spoke up and said, Well, I think someone ought to defend poor Chuck. Poor Chuck! She said, If Jeanie had taken the trouble to keep herself attractive, Chuck wouldn t chase after other girls. Golly it made me mad. She must have read that somewhere. I didn t say anything, and neither did anyone else, but you could see what everybody was thinking. Barbara s such a fool for letting herself in for that. Why, she did everything but handcuff Chuck to make him marry her.

She did? I didn t know that. I knew they had dates, but I never thought

No? Well, here s something else you didn t know. Mrs. Schultz was so sure Barbara was going to get Chuck that she made reservations for two for a trip around the world

Well, she and old Stinker went around the world.

Yes, but Mother told me that she was in Mr. Schultz s office when

God damn it to hell! said Julian. He stopped the car. Cross-link broke. I might as well fix it now while I m sober. He got out of the car and fixed the link. They did not speak to each other during the five-minute wait. Cars drove by and one or two stopped, recognizing Julian and the car, asking if they could help, but he sent them on. He started the car again. Hyuh, baby, he said. What were we talking about? Had we finished with Chuck?

Mm.

What s the mattah, honey sugah lamb pie, what s the mattah you all?

Listen, Ju. Listen to me, will you?

Listen to you? Why, Mrs. English, one of the most attractive features of the Cadillac is the minimum of noise in the motor. Just let me show

No. Don t be funny.

What s the matter? Did I do something wrong? Did I say something? Christ, I thought we were getting along fine.

We were, but something you said worried me. See, you don t even remember saying it.

Well, come on. Out with it, dearie. What did I say?

When you stopped the car. When you got out to fix the chain, you said something about you were going to fix it now, while you were sober.

Oh, he said. As if

I get it. You don t have to draw a map.

Now you re annoyed. Aren t you?

No. Yes, slightly. I don t know. What the hell. I don t blame you.

I m sorry, darling. I don t want to be a wet towel or anything, but I couldn t go through another half hour like that last night I d rather die.

I know. I m terribly sorry, Callie. I won t get drunk.

Please don t, she said. Please. And I ll do anything. Let s get through these holidays without any more mess or jam or anything. I don t want to give you a pep talk

I know you don t. I don t blame you.

You re my sweet Ju and I love you. I don t mean don t drink. You know.

Uh-huh. I promise.

No, don t promise. Just don t. You don t have to. Lots of times you go to parties and don t get crazy. So be like that tonight. I ll do anything, any of the things you like. Anything. Do you know what I ll do?

What?

I ll come out in the car with you at intermission and stay with you, the way we used to.

I know, but that s what I d love. It would be fun.

We haven t done that since we ve been married.

Yes we did. At Lake Placid.

Yes, but we haven t here, at home, and I want to, don t you?

Yes, but what about, you know, business? he said. She hated to name the contraceptive devices. I won t bother. We can start having a baby.

Do you mean it? he said. I never meant anything so much in my life, she said. And there s one way to prove it.

Yes, that s true. Just by being here. Just by coming out here. They had arrived at the club parking grounds. Uh-huh.

Oh, my sweet lovely Caroline, he said. Not now, she said. I said intermission.

They got out of the car. Ordinarily Julian would have stopped the car at the steps near the vestibule, where the women got out of chauffeur-driven and husband-driven and beau-driven cars, but tonight they had not thought of it. Julian drove the car in and out of lanes, twisting and maneuvering until he had got as close to the verandah as he could, to make as short as possible the walk through the snow. Arm in arm he and Caroline, their arctics flopping, went up to the verandah and around to the vestibule. Caroline said she would be right down, and Julian went out again to the verandah and all the way around the clubhouse to the men s locker room. It was a grand night for a party. It was cold, and the snow-covered golf course seemed not to be separate from the farmlands that bounded the course on the second, fourth, and seventh holes. In the summer the golf course was so neatly shaved that it made him think of a farmer in his Sunday suit surrounded by other farmers in overalls and straw hats. But now in the night there was no way of telling, if you did not know, where club property ended and real farmland began. As far as you could see the world was white and blue and purple and cold. You learn by living with your mother and father and people that it is bad to lie in the snow for a long time, but when all the world is covered with snow and moonlight it doesn t look as if it would do you any harm. But it was just a picture now, so it doesn t do you any harm. Julian took in a deep breath and felt very much like a healthy, clean-living person for so doing. I ought to get more of that, he said, and went in to the locker room. Many men said hello and hyuh to him, and he said hyuh and hello back at them six or seven times. He didn t have an enemy in the place. Then he heard someone say, Hello, Socker. He looked to see who it was, although he knew who it was. It was Bobby Herrmann. Hello, Rum Dumb, he said. Yeah, Rum Dumb, said Bobby in his slow difficult way of speaking. Jesus Christ. You have a nerve calling me Rum Dumb, I ll say.

Nuts, said Julian. He was taking off his coat and hat and putting them in his locker. Everyone seemed to think that the job of kidding Julian was being taken over by Bobby. Jesus Christ, said Bobby. I ve done a whole lot of things in my life, but by Jesus if I ever sunk so low that I had to throw ice in a man s face and give him a black eye. My God.

Julian sat down at the table. Cocktail. Straight liquor. Highball. What ll you have, Ju? said Whit Hofman. Cocktail, I guess.

Martinis in this shaker, said Hofman. Fine, said Ju. Trying to ignore me, said Bobby. Trying to give me the old high hat. The old absent treatment. Well, all right. Go ahead. Ignore me. Give me the old high hat. I don t care. But the least you can do, English, the least you can do is go in there and pay for an extra subscription to the dance.

Huh? said Julian. You heard me. You re responsible for there being one less man here tonight and the club needs the money, so don t forget, you sock out an extra five bucks when you pay your subscription.

Who is this man? said Julian to Whit. Whit smiled. Did he come here with a member?

That s all right, said Bobby. Don t worry about me.

Depression or no depression, I think the membership committee ought to draw the line somewhere, said Julian. I don t mind Jews or Negroes, or even a few people with leprosy. They have souls, the same as you or I. But when a man goes to his club he likes to think he s going to associate with human beings, and not some form of reptile life. Or is it insect? Turn around, Herrmann, till I decide just what you are. Have you got wings?

Don t worry about me. I ll get by.

That s just the trouble, said Julian. We ought to have state cops stationed at the club entrance, just to keep people like you away.

It s a good thing we didn t have state cops here last night. As it was it s a wonder somebody didn t send for them. Or the God damn marines or something.

There you go, talking about the war again, said Julian. You never got over that God damn war. That s your trouble. You don t hear Whit, or Froggy

That s all right, said Bobby. When there was a war, I was in it. I wore a uniform. I wasn t one of these God damn slackers playing sojer boy at some college. Lafayette or Lehigh or wherever it was. S.A.T.C. Saturday Afternoon Tea Club. Yes, sir. When old Uncle Sam needed me, I heeded the call and made the world safe for democracy, and when the war was over I stopped fighting. I didn t do like some people that put on a uniform back in 1917 and then did their fighting by throwing drinks around in the presence of respectable people at a country club, thirteen or fourteen years after the war was over. Nineteen-thirty. That s what some people are. Veterans of 1930. The Battle of the Lantenengo Country Club Smoking Room. Surprise attack.

The others were laughing, and Julian knew he was coming off a very bad second best. He finished his drink and rose to go. Not driving you away, are we? said Bobby. Julian looked at Whit, deliberately turning his back on Bobby. Something wrong with the can, Whit? Or don t you smell it?

Whit gave a neutral smile. Going in? he said. Let him go, Whit, said Bobby. You know how he is when be has a drink in his hand. Of course you re safer when it s a cocktail. There aren t any lumps of ice in a cocktail to give you a black

Well, bye bye, said Julian. He walked out of the locker room, but as he left he heard Bobby say in a very loud voice, loud enough not to be missed by Julian: Say, Whit, I hear Harry Reilly s thinking of buying a new Lincoln. He doesn t like that Cadillac he bought last summer. The locker-room loved it. Julian walked on, through the smoking-room, through the dining alcoves, out to the dance floor, through to the foyer at the foot of the stairs. That was where you waited for your lady. Julian said hello and good evening to a great many people, and waved especially gayly to Mildred Ammermann, who was giving tonight s dinner. She was a tall, toothy girl, captain of the women s golf team. Her father was a drunken rou� quite rich in real estate, and nominally a cigar manufacturer. He never came to the club except on nights like this, when Mr. and Mrs. Ammermann would entertain a few of their her friends at a smaller table. Mildred, towering above Losch, the club steward, and pointing, daintily for her, with one finger as she held a small stack of place-cards in her left hand, apparently was one woman who had not heard about the business of the night before. It was axiomatic in Gibbsville that you could tell Mill Ammermann anything and be sure it wouldn t be repeated; because Mill probably was thinking of the mashieniblick approach over the trees to the second green. Julian derived some courage from her smile. He always had liked Mill anyway. He was fragmentarily glad over again that Mill did not live in New York, for in New York she would have been marked Lesbian on sight. But in Gibbsville she was just a healthy girl. Good old Mill. What are you thinking? said Caroline, suddenly standing beside him. I like Mill, he said. I do too, said Caroline. Why, did she do something or say something?

BOOK: Appointment in Samarra
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