CHAPTER EIGHT
Isn't it strange how one can hear things around the house that he can't hear when children are rushing about? I gess I'm not the only one to ever notice a thing like that. It's not exactly a silence; it's a shift from many sounds to the nervous little things like that faucet in the upstairs bathroom shhhhehunking like a regular metronome, and that worried little scraping of metal against metal, someplace by the back screen door. And then there is also the buffing swish of the wind outside. It's blowing heavier than it was yesterday. I sure hope the kids are dressed warm enough to face it.
But that's life and the elements. I'm part of them like anyone else, like I was back in the old days in St. Louis.
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After I'd seen to it that big Barney had been buried proper, I had it in mind to go on back to California. But I didn't. I kept sticking around St. Louis, wondering what direction west was and which way to take it. I guess I was kind of lost when, at the same time, I knew just where I was.
The wolf wasn't bothering me much, because I had plenty of money. In fact, I think I was even hoping that the old bastard would bark once or twice just to let me know that I wasn't completely alone.
But he didn't and I bummed here and there, just fooling around and staying out of trouble. You could sure bet that after I'd seen what booze had done to Barney, I didn't have any desire to take the same path. Oh, I drank a couple of beers once in a while but none of that hard stuff. Besides, it made me sick to even smell it.
Then one Sunday I decided to take a long bus ride and found myself at the zoo. At least there were people there --lots of them --and that made me feel like I wasn't exactly alone. Especially when they were mostly laughing and having all kinds of fun.
I got hooked on the monkey cage right off. Those critters are a lot smarter than people in some ways, and, heck, they sure don't have much to worry about. I even got so I could tell them apart and started calling them by name. There was this one fellow who looked just like that Emanuel guy in the gypsy camp, and I got to calling him Zeke. I don't know why I picked Zeke...I guess it was just one of those screwy things.
Zeke was sure the clown of the cage. Why he'd run those girl monkeys around so bad that you'd swear he was married to all of them. I guess to watch him was sort of llike watching a chimp making a chump out of a chimp.
Zeke's only trouble was that he didn't have a very subtle approach. He'd squawk and holler and swing around the cage after the girl monkeys and get them all so mad that they would gang-up in a corner and go to chattering back at him like a bunch of Presbyterians cussing the Catholics. Then old Zeke would swing into the whole bunch and go to work with his fingers like he was punching the "up" button on a "down" elevator. The girls didn't like that much.
Then old Zeke would play like he was tired and come over to talk to me. He'd wiggle his lips and wave his finger in front of my face and look at me with those shot-down eyes of his, just as if to say, "Well, whatsa guy gonna do, buddy? Ya know what I mean?"
After one episode, I got to feeling so sorry for Zeke that I leaned over the guard rail and gave him my bag of popcorn. I swear Zeke winked at me, before he started swaggering around like he was king stuff. The next thing I knew one of the girl monkeys, I called her Sadie, came rushing over to Zeke like he had just inherited a million dollars.
It wasn't but a lickety-split second or two before Sadie had the popcorn and old Zeke was doing something in public that embarrassed me and made me turn away from the monkey cage, because there were women standing around watching , too.
I'd sure have to say one thing about Sadie. She sure knew how to get her popcorn, which isn't saying monkeys are so dumb, because I've seen a lot of women do the same thing for dollar bills. The only difference, I guess, is the kind of cage it happens in.
But the point I'm trying to make is about popcorn, because that day sure turned into a popcorn festival for me. Right after I let the monkeys alone, I started strolling around looking at other things when I suddenly found myself boxed-in right next to the wolf section, and I guess you know by now how I feel about those hairy monsters. Just as soon as I discovered where my voice was, I let go a first class holler and went wailing around the corner of the snake building like a horse-buggy with a flat tire--which is just about the way a guy looks with a wood leg on the dead run cutting capers around the corner of a snake building in a public zoo.
Splat! went the popcorn...and me, too. And there was Edie all upside down in front of me with her lovable little arms filled with a stranger with a wood leg.
And there I was, suddenly astraddle of her with my wood leg pinned between us like a broken shoring prop and a half-bushel of popcorn crunching between our bellies and blowing all around in Edie's beautiful hair like yellow cockleburrs in a hunting dog's tail. And what the heck can a guy say at a time like that, except: "I'm sorry, madam," which I did, and got real red in the face, because it sounded sillier than hell.
Edie's face, which was only about two inches from mine, ahd a look of disgust strong enough to make and admiral yell retreat. But I'll say one thing about it, she sure had the deepest blue eyes any human ever wore, even though they looked like they were about to shoot ice cold boomerangs fifty feet into the air.
"The next time I hear a train whistle I'll just first and look later," she said, or sneered, or whatever it was.
I grinned.
"Well...are yo going to get off me, mister? Or shall we just lie here the rest of the afternoon like lovers taking a nap?"
"Oh," I said real intelligently, "sure."
I grunted a couple of times and moved a muscle or two, but the straps on my leg were snagged up on something and I just couldn't get loose.
"Sorry, madam, but I've got one of those stiff things and the straps are all tangled."
"Most men have," Edie snapped. "But their approachis usually more subtle."
"Oh, no, madam...uh, I mean a wood thing."
"No Kidding! I thought you were going to say it was pure gold. And stop calling me madam."
"You've got me wrong, madam..uh, Miss. It's my leg...you know...wood...ah, leg." I tried to grin as I reached down and hammered on it, but it didn't come off so good -- the grin, I mean.
"Gee, I'm sorry, she said. "I didn't realize. Here, you hold still, and I'll see if I can wiggle out from under."
By this time quite a crowd had gathered and were watching us like we were part of the zoo. I don't know what makes people be so gawk-eyed when others are in distress, but they will always break their necks to stare like idiots.
Anyway, Edie went to wiggling something fierce, and I kind of got to hunching this way and that, trying to get my straps unkinked, until I suddenly thought of Zeke and Sadie back at the monkey cage. I guess the two of us didn't look exactly proper, what with me grunting and giggling, "Zeke, Sadie, oh! hah!" over and over, with my face damn near purple with embarrassment, and Edie going, "Oh, uh...uumph...oh!" every few seconds as she wrestled to get loose.
But finally we got the traffic jam unsnarled and rolled loose from each other. And Edie sat up and stuck her tongue out at the crowd just for spite, and they all huffed away like they were disappointed in the outcome.
The she turned on me with eyes just brimming full of tears.
"I just hope you're satisfied with what you've done," she cried.
I hung my head against my chest so I wouldn't have to look her in the face. "No, madam. I'm not satisfied about it at all. But I'm truly sorry. Really I am. It just seems like every now and then I work myself into an accident that just makes me feel bad as all heck. I'm just plain sorry, madam. I hope you're not hurt or nothing."
"Will you please stop calling me madam? I'm not one, you know. And I'm not talking about our collision. I'm talking about the popcorn."
"The popcorn, mad..ma..m--?"
"Edie! Yes, the popcorn. There are eight little kids over there just about ready to go berserk about this stuff, and I just spent all my money."
"Heck, Edie. That's no problem. I've got plenty of money."
"I'm sorry, mister. I can't let you do that. It wouldn't be proper.
"Just call me Hank."
"All right. Hank, then."
"Seeing as how I was the cause of all the damage, it's only fair that I pay for it. I'd have to anyway, if you sued me or something."
"Well, I'm not going to sue you. And, besides, I'm not supposed to associate with men while I'm escorting the children around the zoo."
But, heck, you already have. And we sure can't undo that now, can we?"
"No, I guess not. Here let me help you up."
"Wait just a second, until I get the kinks out of my wood leg. It's about like a motor on a car sometimes. If it ain't working just right, it's pretty hard to get any place."
"Okay. But while you're doing that, I'll just run on over and check on the kids. They might be getting worried about me."
Edie sure looked pretty nervous as she walked out of sight around the corner of the snake building. But I guess she had a right to be. It isn't every day that a lady gets mauled by a stranger at the zoo. She was just a slip of a thing compared to me. Heck! I bet my false sliver weighed half as much as she did.
Pretty soon she came back leading eight critters that looked like they had lost their least friend, especially when they saw all that popcorn on the ground. They stared at me with utter suspicion, as though I was the worst popcorn stealer in the world. I felt like it.
Edie said, "Children, I want you all to meet Hank. Hank this is Joe, Mike, Deidere, Milton, Bill, Bal, Sherri, and Carolyn."
"Hank is going to get us some fresh popcorn. Would you like that?" Edie said to the kids.
Not one of them uttered a word, but their tiny heads sure bobbed up and down eagerly.
We went on over to the popcorn stand, and I bought each of them the biggest bag in the place. Then I ordered a bunch of soda pop and ice cream bars and tossed in some candy just for good measure.
The kids really thought that was grand, but Edie didn't.
"You shouldn't have done that," she said, really miffed.
"They're not supposed to have more than popcorn."
"Why not? Heck! They're on a picnic, ain't they?"
"Not exactly. We're just sort of looking the animals over and that's all. We're just out for an hour or two."
"Out from where?"
"St. Patrick's Home for Children."
"You mean all eight of them are orphans?"
"Yes. I take a group out every Saturday. It isn't much, but it seems to give them a little extra excitement to come here."
About that time, Deidere came over, stood in front of me, and pulled at my pant leg. I guess instinct or something got the better of me. I picked her up and put her on my lap. She cuddled up to me like a little lady, but she wouldn't say a word.
I said to Edie, "I guess they don't get much lovin' in a place like that, huh?"
"Not very much personal attention," Edie said, looking away. "But they do get everything else they need."
"How did you ever get interested in a place like an orphanage, anyway? I thought most of the women who messed with that sort of thing were mostly old, rich ladies that can't find much else to do."
"I grew up there, Hank," She replied, as though disgusted with me for asking such a question. "I guess I just like to go back and see if I can give some of the kids a lift now and then."
I could see that I was stepping on soft territory. Edie had a strange expression in her eyes, a defiant kind of thing, yet far away, if you know what I mean. I felt like a big fool for prying too much. So I decided to keep my mouth shut, unless she said something first.
Consequently, we spent the rest of the afternoon in almost total silence. I walked with her and the brood and had a pleasant time. Then the first thing you know, we were at Edie's car. She said goodbye and I was alone again.
I felt sad and disgusted with myself for quite a while after that. I had developed a feeling for Edie, and like one choice dunce, I hadn't so much as thought about getting her full name and address or even her telephone number. I sure wasn't a whirlwind thinker in those days.
For one whole week I moped around like a young pup with a guilt complex. I knew then how big Barney must have felt when the love bug hit him. It sure was a tough feeling to get afflicted with. Remembering how he had turned sour on the whole world set me to worrying about how I was going to take it. I was really afraid that I might start drinking and doing some of the things he had done. But I guess the difference was, that I was looking forward while Barney had always been trying to find something he had lost.
The next Saturday came, and I was right back at the zoo pitching ball again. I even had guts enough to walk by the wolf cages once or twice, just to see if Edie was there. I looked all over the place and couldn't find her, so I kind of gave up and went over to pay my respects to Zeke and Sadie.
Things were in bad shape there, also. Poor old Zeke had lost out to a young chimp who just wouldn't allow him to get close enough for Sadie to pit on him. Even after I tossed Zeke a bag of popcorn, Sadie wouldn't so much as give him a wink. Heck! Old Zeke just rolled over on his back and fed himself the popcorn with his toes piece by piece, like he had all the time in the world now that he had lost his lover. I've felt the same way lots of times myself.
It was right about then that Edie sneaked up to me and spoke. She had a different group of kids with her this time. "Still passing out free popcorn, I see," she smiled.
Then I said something really profound. "oh, hi there," I said, just drinking in the sights.
"I bet you spend a lot of time at the zoo, don't you, Hank?"
"Heck no. This is the second time in my life that I've been here. To tell the truth, Edie, I came out on purpose, so I could see you again."
Edie's face turned a little pink, and I felt sorry for being so blunt.
"Oh?" She said. "I'm flattered. Really, I am." She touched my arm, and the hair dang near stood on end. "Want to come along with the gang and me for the popcorn treat?"
"Sure do. How many bags do I get this time?"
"No. I didn't mean that. It's my treat today."
"I don't let girls buy me popcorn. My daddy always told me it wasn't proper to let a lady treat you." I was lying that time, because my daddy and I were never together when people had enough to buy treats for each other.
"Well, your daddy isn't on this party, Hank, and I insist."
It worried me some that she was being one way, but I had sense enough not to start a fight about it in front of the kids. Besides, I was fighting another terrible urge about then; I wanted to grab her and kiss her so bad I was shaking.
In about five more minutes, I helped carry the popcorn over to the kids, and we all got draped around a park bench and started chomping away at the popcorn in real California style, and I got up enough courage to do some exploring.
"Say, Edie," I said, dang near choking on a kernel, "How about you and me going out to a movie or something tonight?" I shoved a handful of popcorn into my mouth and looked off across the zoo, because I didn't have guts enough to look her straight in the face.
"That would be fine with me, Hand," Edie said, What time?"
Well, dang the popcorn! She caught me so far off guard I tried to swallow the whole mouthful. I went to gagging and choking so hard that all the people around there thought I was having a heart attack. By the time the kids got done beating me on the back, I wasn't so sure I wasn't.
Anyway, I got over the choking attack and stood up just as straight as a soldier with my eyes brimful with tears and said, "You will --?"
Then Edie looked at me and said, "Yes," and busted out laughing so heard that she had to bend over and hold her belly. Edie was always like that; she sure could laugh it up when she wanted to.
Finally, she got control of herself, and we sat down on a bench and she said, still half-way chuckling, "By the way, Hank, my last name is Jones."
"Mine's Smith," I said, and like a dumb ass reached out to shake her hand. Drawing it back, I said, "Gosh, I'm sorry, Edie. I can't seem to remember my rules of etiquette around you."
She looked at me, smiled real gently and said, "I'll fix that." She reached out and took my right hand with her left and squeezed firmly and didn't let go.
I sure was full of dumbness then I guess, because I just sat there holding her hand and looking off across the seal pond like I was starting into a golden sunset. Edie's hand was as soft and nice as a baby's, and I felt big bolding it, even if I was too helpless to talk much.
Then she finally moved and said it was time to take the children back to the orphanage. She invited me to go with her, but I begged off because I wanted to go buy me a new suit and things for our date. So she gave me her address and left, and I kind of hid behind a tree and watched her until she was out of sight, before I started on my shopping spree.
I was so excited by the time I got to the store that I became about as extravagant as a drunk whiffed on moonshine. I bought one of those white shirts with a bunch of frills up and down the front; then I had to buy a tuxedo to go with it, plus one of those band things that go around the middle to hide the shirt anyway. I guess that salesman knew he had a sucker on his hands, because he really loaded me up with a bundle of things I didn't need. For instance, he sold me a full year's supply of expensive underwear and two year's supply of socks. But the browning touch to his whole approach was when he unloaded a jar of cologne on me that was priced at twenty-eight dollars.
But I really didn't care. I was in love, truly in love. And everyone knows that a young man in love is just as giddy as a young woman in love. The only difference is that one sets like a bull in a springtime pasture and the other like a mermaid in a turbulent eddy. One flits here, the other flops there.
By seven o'clock that night, which was the exact time I was supposed to call for Edie, I was about the most suave lover that ever stumbled up a doorstep. I had it figured out that I would stand by the doorbell and ring it three times, and Edie would come to the door on the third ring. She would be wearing an evening gown, and I would shake my head real sexy like and hand her a bouquet of roses. Then it dawned on me suddenly that I had forgotten the roses, that shook my demeanor up so bad I almost retreated. But, heck, she didn't have a doorbell anyway, so I just knocked on the door real soft, and kind of hoped she wouldn't answer it.
She came to the door on the very first knock. She was wearing bluejeans, a boy's shirt for a blouse and was barefooted. If I would have been in a proper place, I think I would have torn the tuxedo off and thrown it right out in the street. I sure didn't feel so suave right then.
Edie was immediately gay and talkative. "Gee, Hank, you really look wonderful. Come on in and sit while I finish dressing. I hope you don't mind waiting just a little bit, but I wasn't sure how to dress and you didn't tell me."
I know I felt like saying beautiful things right then, because she was so cute. But I never read much poetry and I wasn't a fast talker. So after my face had run a series of trying expressions, I said, "Oh, sure...take your time."
"Sorry I can't offer you something to drink, but I'll only be a minute or two. Bon't go away," Edie said, waving her arm in the direction of a chair, then hurrying off.
I sat down like I was easing onto one of those cold metal stools in a doctor's office. I was worrying some about not getting the roses again, but I was also feeling pretty stupid about the way I had dressed. I figured I had over done it. Pretty soon, that dang perfume I had bought got to reacting in the closeness of the apartment and welled up so strong that it started making me sick to my stomach. Some Romeo I was! I felt more like the great lover's horse--and the rear section at that.
But when Edie swished back into the room, I changed my mind in a flash. Never was there a lady so beautiful as she at that moment. She had put on a light blue cocktail dress, which fluffed out around her like restless butterflies caught in the lacy network of a smiling sunset. Her face sparkled. Her dark brown hair shimmered. Her eyes were radiant.
"Here I am, Mr. Smith," she said in a teasing whisper, while her eyes danced all over me. "See...I told you I wouldn't be long."
Right there, I was so shocked that I groaned the most startling sigh of love a man could ever whimper. I said, "Uh...ah..." and fell silent.
"Do I really look that nice?" Edie asked with a feigned pout. I shook my head up and down several times. I was trying hard to remember some of the lines barney used to use, but I couldn't. The only thing poetic I could think of was; "Under a spreading chestnut tree..." and I knew that wasn't right.
"Well --"
"Hickory, dickory, dock," I blurted, and she laughed. Then I laughed, and the evening was off or on or whatever you call it.
"Shall we go wherever it is we're going, Mr. Smith?"
"Of course, Miss Jones. The Club Royalty Alley, if you please." I said crooking my arm at the elbow in an exaggerated motion.
After we were in the taxi and on our way, Edie cuddled close to me. But we hadn't gone more then eight or ten blocks before she said, "Say, Hank. There's a drugstore just before we get to the Royalty Alley. Let's stop there before we go on to dinner. I want to get a couple of things."
"Okay," I said, and told the cabdriver.
When we got out and I had paid the driver, Edie said, "I'll just run on in. Why don't you just wait over there for me."
I watched her go into the store, then looked to where she had asked me to wait. It was a shoe-shine stand. I looked down at my shoes. Good grief! Some Sir Gallahad I was. A new tuxedo, a fancy shirt, twenty-eight dollar perfume and I had put on my old shoes. They looked like they had come straight out of a trash barrel. What a lousy combination I was then, with a brand new red face to go wit the ensemble.
Edie sure must have had a heart of gold to put up with a dumb-bunny character like me.
We finally got to the Royalty Alley. And, of course, it was a fancy joint with thick soft carpet, and, of course, I made my usual elegant entrance when my wood leg sank into the carpet. I went zip-hopping forward and shoved some fat bag in front of me about three feet forward into another couple before I caught my balance. Someday, I'm going to invent a skid of some kind to go on the end of a wood leg so it will slide instead of hide in thick carpeting.
Anyway, not too many people saw my antics and Edie and I were able to sneak on in and get seated. However, the fat old bag I had bumped into was having some words with the couple she had bumped into and they were raising a hell of a commotion. I had said, "excuse me," right after I had hit her, but she hadn't acted like she heard me. Maybe it was just as well that we got away from there quick, because the fat lady sure had a nasty temper. She got to using some bad language on the other couple, and they were returning it tit-for-tat, and the manager came along and threw all three of them out. I felt awfully sorry about that, because it all probably wouldn't have it I hadn't bumped into the old fat bag. But I didn't say anything about it.
The waiter brought our menus, and we ordered drinks. Edie got a manhattan, and I tried on a martini. That part was easy. I began to feel pretty suave again. But then she said something about having fried chicken for dinner, and I downed my martini in one gulp, olive and all. I could just see me and my tuxedo and a platter of fried chicken all mixed up in one embarrassed pile. It wasn't that I didn't like fried chicken, it was just that I never learned how to eat it with proper manners. I've got to use my fingers and get my face greased up worse than eating watermelon. I sure didn't feel like making a big fool out of myself in front of Edie.
I said, "Fried chicken?" I raised my eyebrows some, too.
"I like fried chicken," Edie smiled.
"So do I. But it's pretty ordinary,"
"Not when you haven't had it for a while."
What would you say to that? I said, "Edie, you're spoiling my plans. I was going to ask you out on a picnic Sunday, and I was kind of reserving the fried chicken idea until then."
"Oh, well in that case, I'll order something else," she said with great enthusiasm. "I like picnics with fried chicken. What would you suggest I order?"
"Lobster. Steak. Anything. I don't care," I shrugged cockily.
"Those things are a little expensive," Edie said with some doubt.
I guess she was remembering my dirty shoes.
"We can afford it," I said with just an overdose of bravado.
"Who do you mean by we?" she asked.
"Everything I have is yours," I said proudly.
"Oh," she said, and looked away with a rather withdrawn expression and fell silent.
I figured then that I must have said the wrong thing, so I shut up before I made it worse.
We had another drink and she ordered lobster. I ordered steak. We ate in silence, but she smiled constantly. I smiled back. She was beautiful.
We finished dinner. She excused herself and went off to the powder room. I hurried off to the men's room and hurried back. I didn't want the night to end too quickly. I ordered a bottle of sparkling burgundy before she got back. She liked that surprise very much.
We sipped at the burgundy and listened to the orchestra. Finally, she said, "Hank, let's dance."
"Gee, I'm sorry, Edie, but I can't."
"Sure you can. Anyone can dance."
"I can't."
"Oh, Hank, forgive me. I forgot." Edie's expression was suddenly shocked and unhappy.
"Don't feel that way, Edie. Lot's of guys with artificial legs can dance pretty good. I just never learned. I guess it was because there wasn't anyone around to dance with. but I'd sure like to learn."
"I'll teach you," she said, smiling again.
"I'll let you."
We fell silent again and sipped at the burgundy and listened to the music and looked at each other across the table. I don't know how she felt, and I don't really know how I felt, except that I was all mixed-up inside. I ached and knew I ached and knew II wanted her. She was there and I was close to her. There was more to our relationship than just a tablecloth between us I think we both were aware of it.
We finished up the burgundy, and I ordered another bottle. The waiter brought it. and shuffled around the ice bucket like a disturbed rooster. He leaned over and whispered in my ear.
"Your pants are unzipped."
Damn him! He would. I didn't dare look.
I took a sip of wine and casually blotted my mouth with my napkin and nonchalantly dropped it into my lap.
I smiled at Edie and then looked leisurely at the dance floor. I said, "Look at that old couple on the dance floor."
She turned, slowly, and looked.
While she was thus engaged, I reached under the napkin and did the slight of hand bit, sure that a thousand eyes were on my lap, which was kind of pompous because I wasn't that interesting. I felt the zipper slide up without a snag. I sighed and reached for the burgundy again.
Edie said, "That's the way I want to be when I grow old. They look so happy and contented together."
I nodded. "I think they're the grandest couple I've seen in a very long time."
Edie smiled. We fell silent again.
I don't think either of us wanted it to end. But two bottles of sparkling burgundy on top of other drinks do take their toll. We both were feeling it and knew it. Edie's eyes showed it.
At last, she said. "Hank, I think you had better take me home before it's too late."
"Sure," I said.
"I'll meet you in the foyer. I want to stop by the powder room first," she said and left. I called for the check, paid it, and started out.
There just has to be a thing about me that I was born with. I mean a thing like being prone to causing embarrassing problems. It has been getting in and out of joints properly. No sooner had I walked all the way through the crowded dining room into the entrance foyer than I discovered a huge red napkin stuck in my fly.
There are times when I sure wish I knew how to faint, and that was one of them. What the heck does a guy do in a situation like that? Unzip his pants in front of everybody? Bend over like he is in pain and try to maneuver it out that way? God! I sure wish sometimes that there was an easy answer to life's golden problems.
To top it all off, some smart guy gives me this confidential advice from behind his hand. "Say, buddy," he whispered coarsely. "Do you know that your flag is flying at half-mast?"
I glared at him and made a beeline for the front door. My luck stayed with me; my bad luck that is. There was a group of people coming up the front steps. I heard one woman whisper as she passed by: "Boy, it sure must be some party!"
That made me mad, so I just squared my shoulders and marched down the steps like a conventioneer until I reached the nearest shadow. I never went back in for Edie. I waited for her there.
I'll say one thing though, I'll bet I'm the only guy that ever walked away from the Club Royalty Alley with a souvenir tucked neatly away in his fly. I never did go back to find out, either.
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