Memories of Another Day (33 page)

After they shook hands and sat down, Browne looked at him. ''I hear you're a drinking man. Is that true?"

''I've never been known to turn one down," Daniel said.

"I'm a beer drinker myself," Browne said. "Ulcers. I can't take the hard stuff. You go ahead and order."

"Thank you," Daniel said. He looked up at the headwaiter, who was still hovering over them. "Jack Daniels, please."

"Single or double, sir?"

"Neither," Daniel said. "A bottle. And bring a pitcher of water. No ice."

Browne stared at him. "If the rest of what I've heard about you is as true as that, you have to be quite a man."

"What have you heard?" Daniel asked.

"That you're the best organizer Murray has with him. That he keeps you moving from trouble spot to trouble spot, pulling the locals together. That you as much as anyone are responsible for the success of the S.W.O.C.'s recruiting drive."

"Not true," Daniel said. "We have good men everywhere. I just help coordinate their efforts."

"Also that you're a big man with the ladies."

The headwaiter came back with the whiskey. Daniel didn't reply until after the waiter had poured him a drink and had gone. He held up the glass of whiskey. "Cheers," he said, downed it and immediately poured himself another. "I heard a lot about you and your friend here too," he said, smiling.

"What's that?" Browne asked.

*That you're both on the take. That you kick back half to the boys back in Chicago. That you'd sell out your own grandmother for a dime." Daniel was still smiling.

''What the hell—!" Browne started to sputter. Bioff's hand on his arm stopped him.

''Did you also hear that our members are getting the highest salaries and job-protection benefits they ever got in their lives?" Bioff asked.

"Yes."

"Why didn't you mention that?"

Daniel sipped at his whiskey. "I figured that I didn't have to. You would." He finished the drink and poured another. "Now that we're finished with the compliments, maybe you can tell me why you want to see me."

"Let's order first," Bioff said. "The spaghetti is very good here."

"FU have a steak," Daniel said.

They ate quickly, almost silently. Daniel cleaned his plate; the other men simply toyed with their food. At the end, when the waiter brought them coffee, Daniel took out a cigar. "Mind if I smoke?"

They didn't object. He lit the cigar and leaned back in his chair. "Gentlemen, that was a fine meal. I usually don' git to fancy places like this. I git most of my meals in hash houses and greasy spoons. Thank you."

Biofflooked at Browne. "Mind if I talk?"

Browne nodded. "Go ahead."

Bioff turned to Daniel. "There are some seven thousand office workers in the film business. About three thousand of them here in the studios, the rest scattered in film exchanges around the country and the home offices in New York. We've just begun to organize them, but we have a lot of prejudice to overcome, a lot of it from the office workers themselves. They think that white-collar workers are above that. The companies know that and encourage them. We're beginning to make a little headway, but it's slow. Now we hear

that District 65 is getting into the act and they have a lot of money to spend. They already have the screen publicists sewn up in New York, but that's a Commie operation and we can handle it. We just don't want them to go any further.''

''Why don't you do what you did before? Put the squeeze on the theaters and they'll get the companies to sign up the people for you?"

''We can't do that," Bioff said. "First, we got contracts we got to respect and we can't endanger our members there. Second, if we get pushed into an N.L.R.B. vote, we don't have enough members signed to make it. That's why we've come to you."

Daniel was silent.

"You've got a big reputation," Bioff said. "You've been a Lewis and Murray man all your life. You know how the C.I.O. and District 65 operate. If you come in with us, I'm sure we'll sew the whole industry up."

"Exactly what are you offering me?" Daniel asked.

"The presidency of the National Film Office Workers Union, I.A.T.S.E,, A.F.L. Fifteen thousand dollars a year and expenses for openers."

Daniel looked at him. "You know how much I'm making now?"

"Six thousand a year," Bioff said.

"That's right," Daniel said. He poured himself another drink. "I'd like to take your money, gentlemen. But I'm the wrong man for the job." He tossed the drink down his throat. "You're trying to buy me for all the wrong reasons. Because I'm C.I.O. and I've got a good reputation. What you forget is that I have the reputation because I'm working with the same people I came from. The Hunkies and Polacks and mountain men I grew up with. I talk their language; they understand me. Comes to office workers, I'm a fish out of water." He emptied the rest of the whiskey bottle into his glass. "They wouldn't know what I'm talking about and I wouldn't understand a thing they'd tell me."

''Don't you think we've thought of that?" Bioff asked. ''But we also know that you're bright enough to learn. Anyone who can graduate that labor college in New York top man in the class can't be as plain as you make yourself out to be. I think you're making a mistake."

"I don't think so," Daniel said.

"Suppose we make it twenty thousand?"

"No. Your best bet is to find a man out of your own organization for the job. Someone they can look up to and respect. He'll do a lot better than I can."

"We won't take your answer as final," Bioflf said. "Why don't you sleep on it? Tomorrow when you're a father and you think about the advantages you can give your family with a job like this, maybe you'll change your mind."

"I doubt it," Daniel said. He got to his feet. "Again, gentlemen, thank you."

Bioff looked up at him. "Sometimes you can be too smart."

"I agree with you," Daniel said in a flat voice. "But you can never be too honest."

She pressed his hand. 'Tm glad you're here."

''So am I," he said.

The nurse left the room, and they sat there silently for a while. Suddenly her eyes were open and she was looking at him. 'Tm sorry," she said.

"There's nothing to be sorry about."

'*I lied to you," she whispered, ''I knew I was pregnant six weeks before I told you."

''It doesn't matter now," he said.

She closed her eyes again and rested for a moment. "I felt you were getting ready to leave me and I didn't want you to go."

"I wasn't about to leave you," he said. "But all of that is over now. Forget it."

"I didn't want to have the baby without tellin' you the truth." She paused for a moment. "If somethin' happens to me up there, I wanted you to know that I loved you so much I couldn't let you go."

"Nothing is going to happen up there except that you're going to have a baby and you're going to be all right."

She was looking at him again. "You're not angry with me?"

"I'm not angry."

"I'm glad," she said, and closed her eyes. She slept until the nurse came back into the room, a male attendant pushing a gumey bed into the room behind her.

"Mrs. Huggins," the nurse said in a cheerful voice. "Time for us to go upstairs now."

Tess's eyes opened. She saw the gumey, and a look of fear came into her eyes. "What's that?"

"A rolling bed," the nurse said, moving the gumey against her bed. "We give you a first-class ride upstairs." She moved behind Tess's head. In a moment, she and the attendant had expertly moved Tess onto the gumey. Quickly, they wrapped the sheet over her and fastened the canvas straps that held her to the gumey.

Tess looked up at the nurse. ''Can he come upstairs with me?"

''Of course," the nurse said, smiling. "He'll be waiting right outside the room in which you're having the baby. You'll see him as soon as you come out."

They moved the gumey out into the hall and Daniel walked alongside, still holding Tess's hand. In the elevator going up, she looked up at him. "I feel funny," she said. "Like I'm floating, dizzy-like."

"That^s normal," the nurse reassured her. "It's the Pentothal. Don't fight it. Just relax and drift with it. Its just like sleeping. And when you wake up you'll be a mother."

They came out of the elevator and went down another corridor. The nurse stopped the gurney in front of the operating room. "Here's where we leave you," she said to Daniel. "There's a waiting room just at the end of the hall. The doctor will see you there afterward."

Tess turned her face toward him. "Promise me, Daniel. If anythin' happens to me. That you'll take care of the baby."

"Nothing will happen to you."

Her voice was insistent. "Promise me."

"I promise," he said.

She seemed to relax. "I love you. You won't forget that, will you?"

"Just you don't forget that I love you," he said. He bent over the gumey and kissed her. He watched them push the gumey through the swinging doors, then went down the corridor to the waiting room.

It seemed longer, but it was less than an hour later that the doctor came into the waiting room. He held out his hand, smiling. "Congratulations, Mr. Huggins. You have a son. A big boy, like yourself. Ten pounds four ounces."

Daniel grinned, shaking the doctor's hand enthusiastically. ''I can't believe it."

''You'll believe it when you see him," the doctor said, smiling.

''And Tess—is she okay?"

"Just fine," the doctor said. "She's in the recovery room right now. She should be back downstairs in about two hours. That will give you time to go out and get ^ box of cigars and make a few calls. When you come back, you'll be able to see the two of them."

Daniel let out a deep breath. "Thank you, Doctor."

He crossed the street in front of the hospital to the restaurant and bar on the opposite comer. No one was in the place when he entered except the man behind the bar, who was busy polishing glasses. Daniel stepped up to the bar. "Double Jack Daniels straight, water back."

Expertly the bartender poured the whiskey and placed it in front of him. With his other hand he brought a glass of water up from beneath the bar. "What was it?" he asked. "A boy or a girl?"

"A boy." Daniel stared at him. "How did you know?"

The bartender laughejd. "The only customers we get here at nine o'clock in the morning are from the hospital across the street." His hand went down behind the bar and came up with a cigar. "Congratulations. Compliments of the management."

"Thank you." Daniel looked at the cigar. It had a gold-imprinted wrapper. IT'S A BOY!

"We also sell them by the box of twenty-five," the bartender said. "Two dollars."

"I'll take a box," Daniel said. "And let me buy you a drink,"

The bartender grinned at him. "I make it a rule never to take a drink before twelve o'clock. But this time I'll make an exception. I'm from New York, any-

way, and it's twelve there already." He poured himself a shot and put the box of cigars on the bar all in the same motion. ''What's the kid's name?"

''Daniel. Daniel B. Huggins, Junior."

The bartender raised his glass. "Here's to him."

They put away their drinks. Daniel ordered a refill. He drank half, then chased it down with some water.

"If you want to make any calls," the bartender said, "there's a phone booth in the comer."

Daniel looked down the room, then shook his head. "I've got time," he said, picking up his glass. "Give me another. You have one too."

The bartender shook his head. "No, thanks, Mr. Huggins. I still have another eight hours to go. If I begin putting them away now, FU never make it through lunch hour."

Daniel nodded. He pulled the wrapper off the cigar and lit it. He blew a cloud of smoke toward the ceiling. It wasn't bad. "Good cigar."

"The kitchen's open if you'd like some breakfast," the bartender said.

Suddenly, Daniel realized he was famished. "Steak and eggs with hash browns."

The bartender smiled and turned, yelling, toward the kitchen in the back. "Hey, Charlie! Getcha ass out here and set a table. We got a live one."

He bought a bouquet of spring flowers on the way back to the hospital. The door was closed as he came down the corridor. Cautiously he turned the knob and opened it.

Tess was lying in the bed, propped up by the pillows behind her. She had already put on some makeup and lipstick, but her skin seemed pale and almost translucent beneath it. Her eyes were closed and she seemed to be resting, not paying attention to the nurse on the other side of the bed who was straightening the sheets.

He tiptoed quietly across the. room and stood at the

side of the bed, looking down at her. She opened her eyes. He smiled, holding the flowers toward her. "Congratulations, Mother."

She looked at the flowers. "They're beautiful," she said. Her voice seemed to have no strength.

He kissed her. "How do you feel?"

"Okay," she said. "Weak. I can't catch my breath. It's like there's a band across my chest."

"You'll be all right after you get some rest," the nurse said. "Sometimes the bandages we have around your abdomen make you feel like that." She turned to Daniel. "I'll put the flowers in a vase for you, Mr. Huggins."

Daniel gave her the flowers, and they watched as she took a vase from the closet, filled it with water from the sink and arranged the flowers in it.

"Did you see the baby yet?" Tess asked.

"No," Daniel answered. "Did you?"

She shook her head.

"The doctor said he's a big one," Daniel said. "Ten pounds four ounces."

"My brothers were all ten pounds or more," Tess said. She looked at the nurse. "Can we?"

The nurse smiled. "That's just what I was about to do. I'll be back with your son in just a minute." She closed the door behind her.

Daniel pulled a chair to the side of the bed and took her hand. "I bought a box of cigars. Look." He held one up. "See the band? It says, 'It's a boy.' "

She smiled wanly. "Were you here this momin' before I went upstairs?"

"Of course I was—don't you remember? I even walked you upstairs to the operating room."

"I thought maybe you did, but everything was so fuzzy. They gave me a shot before I went upstairs and I don't remember too good." She looked at him cautiously. "Did I say anything bad?"