Song of the Silent Snow (3 page)

He walked up 69th Street, smiling, to 4th Avenue and met Chubby in front of the pool room. Whatta ya say Chub, poking his arm and dancing on his toes, sparring. Whats with you Harry, been eatin happy pills? laughing and waving his left in Harrys face. Yeah. Anybody inside? No. A couple of the guys are in Phils talking about the game this afternoon. I bet Phils havin a ball. The Giants really clobbered the Dodgers today. A ball? Hes been roarin since the game ended. Yeah, I bet.

They laughed and Chubby took out a packet of cigarettes, put one in his mouth and held the match until Harry had gotten one out of his pack and lighted it. Whatta ya feel like doin tonight, Chub? I dont know. Kinda early to do anything now. Feel like taking in a show? I dont know. Whats playin? Theres a musical at the Bay Ridge. I saw the comin attractions last week. It looked pretty good. O yeah, a couple of the guys saw it and said it was great. Jimmy went ape in one scene. A redhead does a real wild dance. Sounds good. How about takin it in? O.K.

They left the avenue and walked down 69th Street, crossing to the shady side, to 3rd Avenue. Whos going to be at CHARLIES tonight? Im not sure. I met Mitch, the bass player, a little while ago and he said Buck Clayton might sit in tonight. No kiddin? Should be a good session then. Should be. Hes usually pretty cool. He said that kid who blew trombone last week might be there too. Great. He lets it get away from him sometimes, like hes trying to find somethin, but when he doesnt go too far out hes good. He should be real great someday. Remember that solo he took on A Small Hotel? Yeah. Man! He did some fine stuff on that. Never went crazy but blew it cool, real cool. He went way out on How High the Moon though. Yeah, he lost control of his horn on that one; Willie was poundin out the chords like crazy tryin to help him back. Hes good though. I hope he shows up tonight. I/d like to dig him and Clayton together. I guess he will. He probably gets kicks from playing with good boys like that. Yeah, I guess he does.

They turned left on 3rd Avenue and walked toward the movie. A block away Chubby suggested they stop in for a beer first. They went in to the bar on the corner, had 2 beers and a bag of peanuts, then left and continued toward the movie. A few minutes later Harry grabbed Chubby by the arm and suggested they bring a little something to drink with them. You know, just a pint of wine. For kicks. Chubby smiled, shrugged his shoulders. Why not?

They were both laughing as they bought the wine and a package of paper cups.We have to play it cool man. We dont want to look like winos. Chubby put the bottle in his hip pocket and walked in front of Harry so he could make sure it was hidden by his jacket.

The nearer they got to the box office the weirder going to the movies with a bottle of wine seemed. Even a little exciting. They tried to stiffen their faces in a natural expression and Chubby stood to one side as Harry bought the tickets, then walked behind him through the lobby, looking away as the man took their tickets. They climbed the stairs to the balcony two at a time before relaxing; then started looking for seats.

They found two empty seats on the aisle in the last row and sat quietly for a few moments. Then Harry told Chubby to open the package of cups. He started ripping the cellophane off slowly, the ripping sounding louder and louder. He stopped for a second, then ripped the remaining cellophane off at once and sat back and waited a moment before handing the bottle to Harry. He took the bottle from Chubby and immediately bent behind the seat in front as Chubby looked around, both of them giggling. Harry finally opened the bottle and Chubby passed two cups to him and he filled them, recapped the bottle and put it under the seat, then sat up. They forced their shoulders down, looked at the screen and sipped their drinks.

Most of the people in the audience were laughing and commenting to each other, but Harry and Chubby laughed as quietly as possible, keeping their comments to a whisper. When their cups were empty Harry ducked behind the seat again, taking fewer precautions, and refilled them. When he filled the cups for the third time the only precaution he took was not to spill any wine. They sat holding their cups loosely, resting them on the seat between their legs; lifting them while still watching the screen and drinking; leaning over toward each other to whisper a comment as a seminaked woman walked across the wide panoramic screen ... and laughing. Finishing their 3rd cup they were relaxed and laughing as loudly as the others, but with less provocation, occasionally laughing while drinking, wine spluttering and dribbling down their chins. The woman continued walking and they sat choking, coughing, trying not to make too much noise and not to spill too much wine.

When Harry poured the last of the wine he put the bottle back with a clink and he and Chubby toasted each other and sipped slowly. When their cups were empty they dropped them to the floor and sat for a few minutes smoking, watching the movie and giggling. Then Chubby said he was getting thirsty. Yeah, me too. How about another bottle? Why not. Think theyll letya back in? Sure. I/ll tellem I want somethin in my car. Hey, how about gettin somethin ta nibble on? You know some popcorn or chips. Maybe youd like some ordurves already.

Harry started to laugh, then half closed his eyes after Chubby left and stared at the beam of light from the projector, watching the vague smoke drift toward it and then brighten, whirl and float through the ray ... drifting deeper into his mood. He wasnt drunk, though he was a little lightheaded, as was Chubby, from drinking the wine rapidly in the warm theater, but he had a fine glow and was relaxed enough not to think or be concerned with just how relaxed he was. He was going to laugh and have one hellofagoodtime. There was no danger of killing the mood either by losing it or dragging it. He just drifted between the light, the smoke, the screen, one of the girls at work, CHARLIES, Clayton and the trombonist... but mainly sinking further and further into his contentment, his mind almost empty (forcing a silly grin of introspection), knowing this was going to be a good night, a good weekend. Not crazy wild. Just a lot of laughs ...

Harry drifted, oblivious of place or time ... Then Chubby appeared, sat down and took 2 bottles from his pockets and handed them to him. Thought I/d get an extra one. You know, just in case.

Harry laughed and took the bottles, put one under the seat, opened the other and filled a cup. While he was pouring Chubby took a full loaf hero sandwich from under his jacket. Harry didnt notice it, being too busy opening the bottle and pouring the wine, so it was just a blur seen from the side of his eye. When he turned to give Chubby his drink, Chubby was holding the sandwich horizontally, nibbling at the liverwurst hanging over the sides, humming _claire de lune_ and waving his fingers like a harmonica player. The people around them were nudging each other and laughing, some tapping those in front of them and pointing to Chubby as he played the hero sandwich, Harry staring at him, holding a cup of wine. The laughter and craning of necks increased until almost that entire section of the balcony was ignoring the screen and watching the playing of the sandwich. Chubby turned to Harry and rolled his eyes and fluttered his lids, still fanning the sandwich and moving his shoulders to the music. Harry, his hand holding the cup of wine still extended toward Chubby, stared, chuckled, then laughed, the wine spilling over his hand and dripping on Chubbys pants, his hand slowly falling and the cup tilting until the wine poured out in a steady stream and splashed on their feet, their laughter growing louder, people turning in their seats, looking and laughing as Harry laughed and Chubby laughed, still playing the hero sandwich (his laughter, muffled by the sandwich, sounding weird), slowly bending over, sinking further down and almost about to double into a ball and roll down the stairs with a steady thump bump, thump bump, still laughing and playing the hero sandwich, when Harry dropped the cup, plop, fell on Chubbys shoulder and put his arms around him forcing the sandwich from his mouth, burying his face in Chubbys jacket.

They remained embraced until their laughter stopped, not from determination but exhaustion, then parted and sat back in their seats with a series of soft sighs. Slowly the attention of the others returned to the screen and the two sat, silent (except for an occasional involuntary snort), wanting and not wanting to look at each other, sitting slightly angled from each other (the sandwich resting on Chubbys lap), covering their faces with their hands ...

Harry breathed deeply and without looking at Chubby told him to put that damn thing away. Chubby mumbled something, put the sandwich up his sleeve, said, Its o.k. now, and they turned slowly in their seats until they were once more facing the screen. Harry reached under the seat for the bottle and filled 2 cups, handed one to Chubby. They spoke to each other only after emptying their cups and refilling them. The hollowness created by their laughter was filled by the wine and as the warmth of relaxation increased they leaned towards each other and once more were whispering comments and laughing.

They drank more rapidly (the bottle being replaced with a clink), their heads barely apart, their elbows on the arm rest between their seats, lifting their drinking arms and tilting their heads back ... each a reflection of the other. And, as they drank, their whispering, giggling and laughter grew louder, yet still not boisterous or annoying.

From making comments upon the action on the screen they progressed to prediction and then to direction; urging the girl-shy male star to kiss her, she wont bite ... tittering, laughing, reaching for the bottle (clink) watching the wine being poured into the cup (plop, plop, plop), putting the bottle back (clink) -whatzamatta with that guy, is he nutsor somethin? If I had a broad like that runnin afta me I/d - swaying, wine sloshing in the cups; laughing, swallowing, bubbling, choking, wine splashing on their noses, dribbling down their chins, dark spots blotted by pants and shirts - reaching (clink), only a few drops left, watching the last drop plop into the cup, still one left (clink); two empties; good show, eh Chubb? Cups refilled (getting soft and soggy, dented, dont squeeze too tight, please dont squeeza the banana - held by the bottom in the palm of the hand); wheres the otha ones - all gone - no more haha - no (clink) more (bottle resting on his lap) - come fill me with the old familiar juice -HUH HUH - she slinks, semidressed, toward him, hair over the side of her face, hips liquid, rubs his cheeks then pushes her hands thru his hair, down his neck and back, sways in front of him, all virtues and charms (almost all) displayed, the voice throaty, begging ... he asks her what she wants - _OOOOO whattza matta? ya crazy? HAHAHA_ - He/d betta go ta Denmark - HUH HUH (cups squashed and dropped to the floor, the bottle passed back and forth), drinking in large gulps, small drops trickling down their chins and adams apples - she forces him back onto a couch, bends over him, gives him the look and kisses him... he kicks and waves his arms - I toldja they was all fruits in Hollywood - the struggling stopped, soft music -dont fight it, enjoy it HAHAHA - holding the bottle up, not much left, get somemore - OOOO please dont squeeza the banana; only a drink left; save me some, a gulp, ahhh... here rubbing his mouth with the back of his hand, empty bottle passed back (clink) - no more; all gone, three dead soldiers - HUH-HUHHUH -hey daddy, I wanna ice cream. Shaddup an drink ya beer. HEHEHE, that guys nuts - HUHHUHHUH, I cant HAHAHA - whatz he HEHEHEHE - the screen wavering and blurred ... images tumbling about ... HAHEHHUHHOHO-HEHHUHHHO...

Please be quiet, sir. Youre disturbing the others. The usher finished his prescribed speech and duty and was turning to walk away when Chubby suddenly jumped up, whipped out his hero sandwich and started fencing with him, Un Guard!!!! He brandished the sandwich in front on the ushers face, parried thrusts, stepped aside as a lunging sword just missed his chest; parried again and with perfect execution and grace watched another thrust pass, then stooping low, left knee bent and right leg extended behind, he parried the last lunge and thrust home, TOUCHE!!!! piercing the usher, mortally, a little to the left of his second brass button. Chubby watched him slump to the floor, proud of his victory, yet with some regret at having killed so noble an adversary ... The sandwich bent slightly with the thrust and a piece of liverwurst fell on the ushers shoe. He stared at it for a moment (all he had intended to do was deliver his speech and leave and now he was standing in front of a drunk waving a hero sandwich and there was liverwurst on his shoe) until his head was forced up by the tip of Chubbys sword. Harry stood up and tried to speak in a high falsetto, but phlegm stuck in his throat causing his words to sound gargled, My HERGGO! Then he roared, leaned on Chubbys shoulder; Chubby roared, the sandwich hanging from his hand, the liverwurst dropping to the rug. Harry tripped over the bottles as he pushed Chubby out into the aisle, and they bounced clinkingly down the steps.

Harrys eyes were tearing and he bounced off the banister as he went down the stairs, Chubby behind him. They reached the first landing and turned to continue, half bent with laughter, stumbling, falling ... Chubby raised himself to his knees, holding his stomach, whining hysterically, saliva dribbling from his mouth - Harry felt sand under his nails, pulled himself up, heard a thump and continued stumbling down the staircase; banged through the doors (turning to look for Chubby expecting to see him roll down the stairs, ass and head, ass and head, ass and head, then careened out to the street. His momentum carried him to the corner where he leaned against the fender of a car, laughing ... just laughing... not trying to stop or continue, not wondering where Chubby was; not thinking about the fencing scene or CHARLIES and the group or how he felt; not conscious of the saliva dripping down his chin; not even thinking of having another drink ... just laughing ....

Then there were shadows, voices ... then people. Thats the other one. O.K. buddy, comeon. A policeman grabbed his arm and they followed the usher and the manager back into the theater, hurried through the lobby and into the managers office. Chubby was sitting on a stool in the corner, another policeman in front of him, smoking and still smiling. Youre sure it was these two? O yes sir. Theyre the ones. Im sure. I dont know which one turned over the cigarette urn, but Im absolutely certain theyre the ones. You see I heard a dis - O.K., O.K. Thanks. You can go now.