A Fairy Tale of New York (18 page)

How hesitating with his glass. Distant airplane crossing the sky. Somewhere over Hoboken. Above the grey swamplands, rubbish dumps, mire and slime. Put up my wigwam out there among the waving catkins. Live my final starving moments with the lonely ducks and seagulls.

''Boy you 're just full of facts."

''I guess we might be drinking somebody's soul.''

How pushing his glass away. Wipes a drop of water down his tie.

"Yeah."

"Mr How I 'm glad I 've had this drink. Thanks."

"Don't mention it. But I think we better reconstruct the relationship here. You're still looking for a job.''

"O yes."

"O k. We want men with ideas. Ideas more than anything. I may mention along this line that we prefer these ideas to be of a red blooded nature as opposed to weird. Can you type."

"Well. My uncle gave me one of those little typewriters when I was a kid but I don't expect that would qualify me as a typist at the moment, but it's something I could pick up. I pick up most things rather easily.''

"Like your degree for instance.''

"Look Mr How. I'm after a job. I don't want to misrepresent myself or give a false impression, but as I said I'm interested in human nature.''

"You said that."

"I don't have a degree. 0 k. Maybe I was too distracted by human nature in college. I got disappointed in human nature as well and gave it up because I found it too much like my own.''

"Wow Christian you're some candidate."

"But I wasn't stupid you know.''

"Look, Mr Christian. You don't mind if we don't bother seeing things today. I mean you'll understand that until we know what you can do there isn't really much point in my showing you our set up at the moment. I know Mr Mott's one of the friendliest men you could ever want to meet and I know he wants to help you but it is rather a question in the end, can you help us. Bight."

"Guess so."

"You're a very presentable person and of course well spoken and by the way I like the way you tie your knots, that's a nice tie, always be sure of a man in this business if he wears a knitted tie. Just want both to face the facts. And that conservative suit too. Just the facts, Christian. Just the facts."

"Ok."

"Got an opening for a courier representative. Dispatch and deliver various important papers. Expenses, taxi and all the rest. Good starting slot.''

"Holy cow I'm heading for the age of thirty. You mean I delr'er papers. Like a messenger boy."

"Not in so many words Mr Christian. Not in so many words. It's of the nature of a confidential dispatch agent and you would of course hold the title of executive courier."

"What are the friends that I once knew that I might meet, going to say. They'd be overjoyed. Never stop laughing. I went to college you know.''

"A lot, an awful lot of people go to college, Mr Christian. Mr Mott never went to college and he controls a business extending to twenty nine states. We just added Texas yesterday."

"Well I 've had a job before.''

"I'm keeping an open mind. I'm perfectly reasonable you know, Mr Christian. What sort of work did you do. You see I'm not here to bring about a stalemate with applicants. I'm here to hire the right man for the right job. 0 k. Now what exactly are you experienced in.''

"Does it matter."

"That's up to you. I'm only trying to help. Just testing your qualifications. Want to know the sort of work you're best suited for. Where your interests truly lie. We're an outfit you know, where, when it's expedient, we take off our jackets, you understand me and roll up our sleeves. And being a courier executive would allow your capabilities to rise to the surface. You see what I mean."

"To be frank, I 've been, well, I 'm experienced.''

"O k. But frank with the facts, Christian. How were you used."

"They used me, I guess as a sort of representative, as you might say. A specialist in human relations. As I've said I could count myself as a former student of human nature.''

"Yes I know you've said that three times now. You were in public relations then."

"Well yes sort of I guess. I wasn't too clear at the time because I had a lot of things on my mind."

"What firm was this."

"As a matter of fact.''

''That's right, the facts Christian.''

''It was a man called Vine. I guess incorporated.''

"How's that boy."

"Vine."

''What's his product. Briefly.''

"Death."

"How's that boy."

"Death."

"What."

"What I 'm telling you, death. One word.''

"You mean he rubbed people out.''

"No he buried them."

"You mean an undertaker.''

"Since we're down to one word, yes, an undertaker. Mr Vine said I excelled in that professional capacity."

"Well you know, god help me Christian, I honestly don't know what to make of you. Here's an ashtray for your cigar. Get that chair over there and sit down. It's not been in my experience previous to this to consider anybody in the light or forgive me, darkness of these circumstances. How long did you undertake."

"I undertook for, well, not long. I'm begging for a chance to prove myself Mr How. Just one chance.''

"Easy. Take it easy. Just got to think. What an interview. I am deeply involved in this disorientation. Just let me ask you one question will you. Wait, excuse me a second. Miss Kelly, would you please play over to me the background music we've chosen for Friday's conference for our Chicago representatives."

The light efficient female voice, yes Mr How. The strains of soft violins. The saddened considerate face of How leaning forward.

"Cornelius. Now look, tell me, were you looking for this undertaking job. Don't have to answer that if you don't want.''

''Someone close to me died.''

"Sorry to hear that. By the way, you like this music,''

"It's nice."

"Soothes, doesn't it. Guess it's been one of the most successful innovations Mr Mott introduced into business practice, almost like the invention of the wheel. But come on Cornelius cheer up. Only thing is we got a problem here. Your job in the funeral parlor business is not going to cut much ice with Mr Mott, in fact the mere mention of it will throw a distinct chill into him. But I'll tell you something before we go any further. You know, I like you, I think you 're ok."

"Thanks."

"Most of the people sent along to me with pull with Mr Mott aren't worth their weight in paper, strictly between us, you understand. You strike me as a guy with imagination. I'm going to give you a chance. If I assign you to our idea department do you suppose you could get some ideas. It'd be a trial, you understand."

"Ideas about what.''

"Come on Cornelius, what am I letting myself in for. Quick. Ideas. We make spark plugs. Mr Mott loves the use of words. Think of something quick.''

''My mind's a blank at the moment."

How reaching forward in this emergency to press down a switch on his desk intercom.

"Miss Kelly give us something faster, for a fast idea session of approximately forty five seconds starting ten seconds from now."

Miss Kelly's routine voice. Coming she says ten seconds from now. Feel like I've got to come too. With my prick on a guillotine. An orgasm in eight seconds or else they lop it off.

"Gee Mr How I'm worried. My whole sex life, sorry I mean my life, depends upon what I might say.''

"Wouldn't put it quite like that. Think. One sentence. One idea, a rhyme, anything, don't care what it is, so long as it underlines an inescapable fact."

"But all my facts have escaped.''

"Go go boy."

"I can't go anywhere Mr How, I swear it. The facts have escaped."

"Go after them boy, listen to that music, I know you can do it. Think of something to do with a spark plug. Think of the money. Money boy. Think of the money.''

"I am. Wait. If you've got a heart, you've got a spark that could be a heart by Mott.''

"O boy o boy kiddo. Did you do it.''

"Mr How when you said money, those words just came pouring into my mind.''

"Don't be ashamed of that boy. Tell Miss Kelly. Miss Kelly, good, it did the trick, neat selection, make a note of it."

"Yes Mr How."

"And make a note, we've got a new man"for our idea department starting right away.''

"Yes indeed Mr How."

"Hey boy. Hey there."

Christian slumped in peaceful misery. How holding his glad hand out across the desk.

"You're in boy."

"Mean I'm hired."

"Of course."

"Just like that."

"Well isn't it too quick. Isn't there something more. Can't I fill something out. I just don't feel it's me.''

"Cornelius I think you've got what it takes. Yes. If you've got a heart, you've got a spark that could be a heart by Mott. Here, gee, have another drink of water. Yes. Ingenuity."

"Makes industry."

''Miss Kelly, can you hear what's happening in here.''

''Yes I can Mr How it's wonderful.''

"Well get it down."

"Got it Mr How."

"Flash those two things to Mr Mott. He's got to hear about this right away. Ingenuity makes industry. A follow up to Mr Mott 's favourite word.''

"But Mr How this is awful, I mean I feel overrated. Just a few words."

How leaning back in his swivel chair. Raising his grey sleeved arm to slowly bring down a pointed finger at this applicant suffering the misery of his modesty.

"We find a guy, Cornelius with words like that coming out of his head, we buy that head."

''Mr How I think I 'd rather be a messenger boy.''

"Miss Kelly I want you to shout back just what you think of Christian's word formations.'J

"They 're really impressive."

"Now boy, hear that.''

"But Mr How I'll tell you the truth, no maybe I better not. But I don't know a thing about spark plugs or industry. Except that there's money in it somewhere.''

"Isn't that enough boy. Money is the moment of truth. Don't sadden my life Cornelius. I want you to run with the ball. I mean how do I know sitting here that you're not some kind of god damn genius or something.''

"I 'm only just a reasonably normal person."

"You 're not normal boy. I know it."

"I beg your pardon.''

"O wait. Hold it. Whoa. Let's again reconstruct this relationship here. Miss Kelly would you see that Cornelius and myself are left undisturbed for a few minutes and stop all calls.''

"Certainly Mr How, anything for background music.''

''Not for the moment thanks.''

How standing. Shaking his brown curly head back and forth as he comes out from behind his desk. Paces to the window. The wind hums. Christian standing, loosening limbs. Throwing a left and right hook behind How's back. A white excursion boat heading up the river. As How turns to raise a pointing finger at Christian.

"Cornelius I'm going to give it to you straight. Do you like to win."

"I guess so."

"Answer me yes or no.''

"I guess yes."

"I'm going to risk my life. You know why. Because I like you. When you first came in here I just thought you were another snooty sophisticate out of the ivy leaves. But you know, you've got a real quality in you. Which goes deeper than a shirt and tie."

"My job in the funeral parlor I suppose. But it was the only job I could get when I first got back from Europe.''

"That's what I want to talk about. It's Europe. That's the thing's given you this quality too. A sort of thing that's real. Breeding. But look. I've got absolute faith in you. You could dazzle this industry."

"Mr How thanks but I think you're making a mistake. I'm not like that at all. That's just the way I appear. Some of the things I really think and believe would revolt you. I'm almost a criminal type."

"What a remark. You're just full of ideas boy. Why you're not more of a criminal than I am. I mean we're alike. But look. I'm maybe ten years older than you. Got wife, kids, nice home out on Long Island. The real things. Sure I've got some gripes. But I'll tell you something. See those binoculars. Want you to look out there. You see any barges going past the Statue of Liberty. Got it. Now a little to the left."

"Yes."

''See those barges.''

"I think so."

"That's refuse. Happens every day, all day. Come down the Hudson and out of the East River, filled with stuff that's no more use. They dump it. Christian it's made an awful impression on me. See, dumped. Maybe not in a river, but you know what I mean."

Christian wandering around the side of How's desk. Tests the swivel quality of the chair with a little push of the finger. The seat turns. Christian plops down and splays out feet.

"Mr How I 've lost my ambition."

"Boy, don't ever say a thing like that. Not good for you to say and it's not good for me to hear. And I 've heard an earful.''

Stiff crease down How's trousers. A thin blue line in the grey. Gold buckle on the side of his shoe. As he stands center carpet. Just where I was standing when I came in. To face facts. More foolish than fiction. To get big insights. To give moments of lucidity. During which we could start shooting each other.

"Cornelius I want you to call me Howard. And as a personal favor I'm asking you right now to take this job. I know everything's going to click. Do it for me. You know, I've got to laugh, here I am begging you to work for us and ten minutes ago I was wondering how I was politely going to discourage you."

"Dump."

"Well yeah, but no."

Slight drooping of flesh on How's face. Doggish injured eyes. As Miss Kelly's voice comes over the ether.

"Excuse me for interrupting Mr How but Mr Mott wants you to come up to his private reception room right away."

"Thanks Miss Kelly. There you are boy. What did I tell you. Now I'm asking you right now, please. Just let your personality come out as it's done with me. Just be yourself. Only don't give any hint of your past employment. Mr Mott's toleration for the suppression of facts is nil but to me, it's worth the risk. Just go in with the trace of a smile, that's all I'm asking. But don't look like that."