Kiss Tomorrow Goodbye (33 page)

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Authors: Horace McCoy

BOOK: Kiss Tomorrow Goodbye
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All this time Jinx had been counting his share of the money. He saw that I had my eyes on him and he said, ‘I’m taking my cut now.’

‘So I see,’ I said.

‘Any objections?’

‘Go ahead,’ I said.

I stood there watching him. Behind me Holiday was tearing the tissue paper off the Jeroboam. Jinx put the money in three stacks, 100s, 50s and 20s, counting the bills, consulting the sheet of paper on which he had already listed the amounts. He picked up the stack of 100s in his left hand. ‘Thirty of these,’ he said. He picked up the stack of 50s in his right hand. ‘Forty of these,’ he said. He put the two stacks down and picked up the 20s. ‘And thirty-five of these. Fifty-seven hundred dollars. Wanna check it?’

‘Oh, God, no I don’t want to check it,’ I said.

He stood up, putting the money in his pockets with both hands. ‘Now, I’ll get the ice,’ he said.

‘Don’t bother,’ I said.

Holiday gurgled with delight and came past me, lugging the Jeroboam, which she propped in a corner of the davenport like a doll. ‘Why,’ she said, ‘There’s enough champagne here to last a month.’

‘You’d be surprised how fast it goes, once you get started,’ I said.

‘Fifty pounds, is that right?’ Jinx said.

‘Don’t bother,’ I said. ‘That’s not a sec champagne,’ I said to Holiday. ‘That’s a trifle sweet, but I got it for you. Most women don’t like very sec champagne.’

I turned to go. Jinx caught me by the arm.

‘I’ll get the ice,’ he said.

Any other time I would have nailed him. I didn’t want to hit him now. I didn’t want to fight. I wanted everything to be nice and pleasant. This was a celebration, not only of a job damned well done, but of something else too something much more important to me. ‘Turn me loose,’ I said.

He released my arm. ‘All right, if that’s the way you feel about it,’ he said.

‘That’s the way I feel about it, you son-of-a-bitch,’ I said, going out. …

I dropped a dime and a nickel in the slot and a block of ice rattled down the chute, neatly wrapped in brown waxed paper. I dropped another dime and another nickel in the slot and got a second chuck, and loaded them into the Zephyr.

It was tentative night now, getting dark, and all the lights were on. The streetcars and the buses were not so crowded. Most of the day workers had gotten home. But I knew of four day workers who hadn’t gotten home. Roamer, whoever he was, wherever he was, was now wondering what had happened to them. Had he gone to Webber yet? I hoped Webber could handle him…

I kicked on the door of the apartment with my foot, and Holiday opened it

‘Let me help you,’ she said.

‘I got it,’ I said. ‘Has Jinx gone?’

‘Yes.’

‘Fine. Glorious. Wonderful. Just you and me …’

I carried the ice into the kitchen and dumped it into the sink. I tore off the paper and wadded it up, and then I remembered the one thing I had forgotten. ‘Jesus,’ I said. ‘I thought of everything but an ice pick.’

‘Use a knife,’ she said.

‘I’ll have to.’

I started chopping at the ice with a paring knife. It was slow work. The goddamn knife kept bending. I tried to hold it so it wouldn’t break.

‘How long’ll it take to get the champagne cold?’ she asked.

‘Maybe an hour who cares? Let’s do it right.’ I stopped chopping and flung the particles of ice off my hands and took her in my arms. ‘This is one night when everything’s got to be done right,’ I told her. ‘Slowly and easily and pleasantly, to the most trivial detail like the tearing of a sheet of toilet paper so perfectly along the perforations that not one fiber will either be missing or added. That perfect, this has got to be. …’

I kissed her lightly, a flutter, only enough to know that I had touched her lips; and smiled and went back to the slow work of chopping the ice with the paring knife.

‘This,’ I said, ‘is for me. Wouldn’t it be nice to begin every night with a bottle of champagne and close it with a bottle of cognac?’

‘Maybe we can,’ she said; ‘maybe we can.’

‘Five’ll get you ten,’ I said. ‘We’re in. Tomorrow, we’ll buy a case of each. Tomorrow, we’ll buy some new clothes and look for some new apartments maybe we both can find apartments in the same building. Something nice …’

‘Separate apartments, you mean?’

‘Yes.’

Her face darkened a little, and she frowned. ‘So now it comes,’ she said. ‘I was wondering why you were acting so funny…’

‘Funny?’ I said.

‘All this lovey-dovey crap. Wanting everything so perfect. I might’ve known this was the old brush-off.’

‘Now why do you say that?’

‘Separate apartments …’

‘Well, Jesus, there’s nothing in that to get mad about. There is such a thing as privacy, you know.’

‘Haven’t you got privacy here?’

‘Oh, now, look. Don’t you start getting touchy.’

‘I’m not touchy.’

‘Well, don’t be. There’s nothing personal in this. But we only got one bed, one bathroom. I’d like to be able to go in a bathroom sometime and not have to lock the door, that’s all.’

‘You don’t have to lock the door. Have I ever bothered you when you were in the bathroom?’

‘That’s not the point. You’re in the same apartment with me. That’s enough.’

‘You’re giving me the air, is that it?’

‘Jesus…’ I said.

‘I spring you off the prison farm and the minute you get some dough, you give me the air.’

‘I’m sorry I mentioned it,’ I said. ‘Forget it. Pretend I never said it.’

‘That’s the way you want it, that’s the way you get it,’ she said flouncing out of the kitchen.

I threw the goddamn knife in the sink and followed her out. She went to the davenport and stood with her back to me and picked up some money and started counting it.

‘What the hell are you doing?’ I said.

She didn’t look up or around. ‘Fifty-seven hundred of this is mine. That’s all I’m taking,’ she said.

I stepped around in front of her, putting my hands on her shoulders. ‘What goes on with you?’ I said.

‘Before I take my walk, I want what’s mine,’ she said.

‘Oh, for Christ’s sake,’ I said, ‘stop being so touchy. I thought I was neurotic, but I’m a son-of-a-bitch, I am an A-plus normal compared to you and Jinx. We got a party tonight, remember? Hey!’ I said. ‘I just thought of something else…’

I moved over and picked up the phone. ‘This is that man again,’ I said to the operator. ‘Could you get me the Hotel St. Cholet?’

Holiday was still counting the money, her back to me. I put my hand over the mouthpiece and said to her, ‘You won’t need all that tonight. I promise to eat and drink very lightly.’

‘Hotel St Cholet,’ a woman’s voice said. ‘What’s the name of the room where the Halstead orchestra’s playing?’ I asked. ‘Blossom Room, sir.’ ‘Connect me, please,’ I said. ‘Blossom Room,’ a man’s voice said. ‘May I speak to the maitre d’?’ I said. ‘Maitre d’ speaking, sir…’ ‘What is your name?’ I asked. ‘George, sir.’ ‘George,’ I said, ‘This is Paul Murphy. Could I have two for dinner around eight-thirty?’ ‘Yes, sir, Mister Murphy.’ ‘In that loge there up above the dance floor. Could you manage that?’ ‘Yes, sir, Mister Murphy. Two on the dais at eight-thirty.’ ‘And could you have some flowers on the table just a touch of something?’ ‘Yes, sir, Mister Murphy.’ ‘Thank you, George,’ I said. ‘I’ll see you when I get there …’

Holiday was still counting the money. My sterling portrayal of the man-about-town had left her completely unmoved.

‘Do you mind if I pick out something for you to wear tonight?’ I asked.

She said nothing.

Whistling a casual tune, I sauntered into the bedroom and opened the closet. Her clothes were hanging from the center pole. She didn’t have very many.

‘Holiday!’ I called.

There was no answer.

‘Holiday!’

There was still no answer.

I went to the bedroom door. ‘Holiday!’ I said.

She moved a little, turning her back directly to me.

I crossed to her. She was still counting the money. She did not look up.

‘Lissen,’ I said.

‘Shut up!’ she said.

I grabbed her by both wrists. Her hands were full of money.

‘Goddamn you!’ she said, her face contorted, struggling to free herself.

I shook her wrists, poking my thumbnails into the palms of her hands, shaking her fingers loose from the money that fluttered to the floor. ‘Lissen!’ I said. ‘I couldn’t wait to get home to you tonight. I was a very happy guy. I had remembered what I had forgotten and I have now forgotten what I had remembered. Oedipus is dead, and the sepulchre is sealed. The road back to the womb is closed forever. You must burn the echoes of those memories, you must purify me in the crucible of your lust…’

The color was lacquer-white, there was no thought-motion; I did not remember picking her up and I did not remember walking, it was as effortless as the movement of a sun-shadow – but suddenly there she was in my arms, suddenly above the bed.

I dropped her on to it. She looked up at me with bright, glinty eyes and there was a miraculous silence, and I felt the sweat trickling down my stomach, clawing at me, and I whimpered and went down on my knees beside her and far far away I heard the sounds of solacing bells. …

‘Holiday!’ I called.

There was no answer.

‘Holiday!’

There was still no answer. Hell, I thought, this is right back where we started from. I went to the bedroom door. She was down on her knees, retrieving the money.

‘Come here,’ I said.

She got up, putting the money under her arm, and picking up my share, what was left on the newspaper on the davenport.

‘What do you want to do with this?’ she asked.

‘I’ll take it,’ I said.

I went to the bureau and put it in the drawer with my shorts, and when I got back to the closet door she was putting her money into a Gladstone. ‘As I was saying thirty minutes ago,’ I said, ‘I’m trying to pick out something for you to wear tonight. You got very little here …’

‘I’ll manage,’ she said, closing the Gladstone. She stood up and shoved it into the closet with her foot.

‘Tomorrow, I’ll help you pick out some stuff,’ I said. ‘Something sexy. If you and I are going to be habitués of the Blossom Room, you got to have something sexy. Which of these numbers are you going to wear tonight?’

‘That one,’ she said. She stepped into the closet and held up a flowered print. ‘Is that all right?’

‘It doesn’t do you justice,’ I said. ‘But this time tomorrow night you’ll have a rack full.’

There was knocking at the hall door.

‘Jinx,’ I said. ‘He would have to come back …’

‘We’ll get rid of him,’ she said. ‘Don’t lose your temper. Don’t quarrel with him.’

‘Quarrel on this night?’ I said. ‘My first night of complete and utter freedom?’

The knocking came again and I went through the living-room and opened the door. It wasn’t Jinx. It was Mandon.

‘Come in, come in,’ I said. ‘We’re about to pop a cork.’

He stepped in and I closed the door.

‘Why don’t you answer the telephone?’ he said.

‘What telephone? The telephone didn’t ring.’

‘Don’t tell me. It
rang.
What’re you so busy doing you don’t hear the telephone ring?’

Those bells … ‘Oh, for Christ’s sake,’ I said.

‘Get your coat. I want to talk to you …’

‘Talk to him here,’ Holiday said.

He looked around. She was entering from the bedroom.

‘You stay out of this,’ he said. ‘This doesn’t concern you.’

‘What concerns him concerns me,’ she said.

‘Beat it,’ he said. ‘Get his coat.’

She folded her arms and her eyes flashed. ‘You shrimp son-of-a-bitch, don’t you talk to me like that,’ she said.

‘Take it easy,’ I said. ‘Jesus, let’s not louse up this night. Not this night…’

‘Do as I tell you,’ he said to her. ‘Get his coat.’ His tone was tense and his face had now taken on a dark worried look. ‘We haven’t much time,’ he said to me. ‘I’m warning you, we haven’t much time.’

‘What’s happened?’ I asked.

‘Plenty,’ he said.

He was a cold-blooded guy with virtually no imagination and he did not worry about nothing and now he was worried. I was suddenly worried because he was worried. This had something to do with the heist, or with Roamer or with Webber. Something had slipped…

I went in fast and got my coat.

‘I’ll be back in a few minutes,’ I said to Holiday.

Mandon opened the door and we started out together, but on an impulse Holiday grabbed him saying: ‘I’m going too. I’m tired of things happening behind my back …’

Mandon furiously shook loose from her, and pushed her a little and she fell back and began to work her mouth and lips, trying to collect enough saliva to spit at him.

I jumped between them. ‘You do that and I’ll break your neck, so help me, I’ll break your goddamn neck,’ I said. This spitting business has got to stop.’

She closed her mouth, looking daggers at me.

‘You stay here,’ I said. ‘I’ll be back in a few minutes.’

I followed Mandon out, almost running to catch up with him. I heard the apartment door slam loudly. The whole floor shook.

Mandon strode through the hall and out to his car in front He jerked open the door. ‘Get in,’ he said.

I got in. He crawled in and shut the door. Highness looked over his shoulder.

‘Pull in at an oil station somewhere,’ Mandon said to him. ‘That bitch,’ he said to me. ‘You’ll have to get rid of her. I won’t stand for her much longer.’

The car started.

‘Never mind her,’ I said. ‘What’s the matter with you? What went wrong?’

He crumpled himself into a corner of the back seat and cocked his head at me, screwing up his big eyebrows. ‘So you’re the guy with all the brains,’ he said. ‘You’re the Phi Beta Kappa. You’re the guy who knows it all…’

‘What went wrong? What
happened
?’

‘I’ll tell you what happened. That girl came to see me.’

‘Girl? What girl?’

‘Margaret Dobson.’

‘Margaret Dobson? Is
that
all?’

‘Isn’t that enough?’

‘You mean to tell me you made all this uproar just because Margaret Dobson came to see you? Jesus Christ! I thought this was about the heist. I thought something had slipped. You promote a fight between Holiday and me just because that dame comes to see you? Jesus, I’m going to have to revise my opinion of you.’

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