Seventh Avenue (47 page)

“
Let’s cool off.”

“
Okay,” Neal said.

“
Drink some beer and have a pizza between us.” He wrapped his
arm around Neal’s shoulder. “Well, how does it feel to get off the
nut?”

“
Awful .
. . and marvelous. What a pig she is!”

“
You gotta wait till you’re older before you bag nice gash. The
only-for-you kind.”

“
Have you?”

“
Not yet. I come close. A few accidental elbows in elevators and in the wardrobe at school, but not yet with a girl I really like.”

“
Must be great.”

“
That’s why people get married. They like making it so
much
that they decide it’s got to be forever.”

“
I wonder if they get divorced when they stop liking it,” Neal said.

“
Hey, pal, asshole buddy, you gotta stop worrying about things
like that. They’re finished
altogether .
. . your old man and your
mother, so forget it. When you’re older, screw ‘em where they
breathe. Lookit me? My folks are together, but I’ll tell you what I’d
like to do. Give ‘em both a swift kick in the ass.”

“
Why? I don’t understand.”

“
I got a gripe too. They don’t give a damn about me. So they’re
together;
it
don’t do me no
good. Not many parents really care about
their kids, so don’t feel sorry for yourself.”

“
I don’t.” Neal hated the accusation, but it stuck to him like glue.
Zimmie
and his mother always intimated the same thing when he
said that he couldn’t stand his parents and wished he were an orphan.
“You know what’s wrong?”

“
No, tell me.”

“
They got a divorce, right?”

“
Yeah. So what?”

“
Well, when they’re divorced they make the same lousy mistake
again with somebody else.”

“
Your mom isn’t married
again .
. . ?”

“
She will be.”

“
Oh, what the hell!”

“
That’s right, Moon, what the hell.”

At a quarter past two, he and Moony were singing as they approached
the apartment house.

“
You’re drunk.” Moony squealed with laughter. “Neal’s drunk.
What’ll your momma say?”

“
Probably still out.”

“
Should we wake up the whole neighborhood?”

“
Nah, g’night, Moon. See you tomorrow.”

Neal lurched against the rail in the elevator. The movement made
him
dizzy,
and he was afraid to close his eyes because he knew he
would vomit if he did. He spent several minutes unsuccessfully fiddling with his key in the lock. It was slippery, or was it? The key
didn’t fit. He tried another key, and as he was about to turn it, the
door was swiftly yanked open, and a hand pulled him inside. He
blinked in the blaze of light, but he could not believe it was actually
Jay who was there.

“
Daddy!”

“
I’ve been half
outa
my mind. Two-thirty in the morning! I’ve
been calling all night. Where’ve you been? Where’s Rhoda? Why
are you out so late?”

The flurry of questions
startled
Neal and he stood before Jay,
listlessly swinging from side to side.

“
Hey, what’s the matter with you, Neal? C’mere. Hey,
Neal” - he
shook him
vigorously,
and Neal sank to his knees – “you sick?”
Jay pulled him up. “Neal,
goddamnit
, you’ve been drinking.”

“
Beer.”

“
Beer? This is ridiculous. You’re twelve years old. A baby. Drinking beer? Where’s Rhoda for God’s sake at this time of night?
Leaving you alone.
What else have you been doing? I want to know.”

“
Just had a pizza and some beer with a boy.”

“
Where? I’ll see that dirty bastard loses his
license
.
Selling beer
to a minor.
Where?”

“
Can’t say. Somebody took me. Daddy, I’m not feeling so well.
Got to go to the bathroom.”

Neal rushed past his father down the
corridor,
and Jay followed
him. He was already
retching
. Jay put a towel under the cold water
and made a compress of it. He held it against Neal’s forehead.

“
You didn’t vomit any food.
Just a few bits of pizza.
You didn’t
have anything in your stomach. Why didn’t you eat? I don’t understand what’s happening here. Your mother gets plenty of money
from me for your upkeep. You could eat steak four times a day. And
you come in drunk at this time of night! What in God’s name’s happening to you? Doesn’t she give a damn about you? Where is she?”

“
I
dunno
,” Neal said weakly. “She went out with this
man
Sports,
who’s gonna marry her.”

“
Feeling any better?”

“
Yes, thanks, Daddy.”

Jay washed Neal’s hands and face and helped him on with his
pajamas. Neal appeared to be better although shaky and chalk-faced. Jay made some strong lemon tea and brought it
in to
him.

“
Drink it. It’ll settle your stomach.”

Neal forced the hot tea down, but before he could finish it, he fell
off to sleep. Jay sat on his bed for what seemed to be hours. It was
3:30 when he looked at his watch. He went into the kitchen and made
himself a cup of coffee. The apartment had become tatty and
squalid since he had left it. The sofa in the living room needed to be
resprung
, a corner of the wallpaper above the sink had been ripped
off, there was dust under Neal’s bed, dirty clothing hanging out of the
hamper, soap scum on the bathroom faucets, dirty dishes in the sink,
an empty pantry, grease stains on the stove, the carpet had loose
threads; the apartment was beginning to take on that skeletal threadbare quality
that
neglect rather than poverty creates. It had about
it the look and smell of a temporary headquarters for people in flight
who had grown indifferent to their surroundings. He sat at the kitchen
table
that
he had bought and said aloud:
“And to
think
this was a home.”

Voices drifted in from the foyer and laughter. He got up from the
table.

“
Ooooooooh, there’s somebody
here .
. .” Rhoda said nervously
when she heard his footfalls on the wooden floor. Sports darted in
front of her and said:

“
Keep calm. I’m with you.”

Jay stopped short when he reached them.

“
What do you want, buddy?” Sports said, flicking a wooden hanger
in Jay’s face.

“
I’m Neal’s father.”

Rhoda opened her eyes and came out from behind Sports’ protective wing.

“
Jay? What’re you doing here? Neal, something’s happened to
Neal?”

“
A lot you care.”

“
What are you talking about?”

“
You don’t give a shit about him.”

“
Now just a minute,” Sports interjected.

“
Shaddup you. This doesn’t concern you. We’re talking about
our
child. What the two of you do is your own affair. But the kid is my
concern.”

“
Jay, I don’t want to argue. It’s late and . . .”

“
Late! Why should that worry you now? You leave him alone all
day .
. . all night. Do you know or care if he gets into trouble? Did
you know he got home at 2:30, drunk! And that he
vomited,
and I
put him to bed. He went out with some kid and had pizza and beer.
Beer! He’s twelve years old. What’s gonna happen to him?”

“
I’ll beat him till he’s black and blue,” Rhoda said, outraged.

“
If you were home, he couldn’t do that.”

“
Don’t tell me what to do with my life. I had enough of you for
years.”

“
I’ll have Neal if he’s getting in your way. With pleasure.”

“
I’ll never give you the satisfaction of having him.”

“
I’ll apply to the courts.”

“
You can apply till doomsday. I divorced you, remember, and it
was for adultery, and the courts don’t reverse their decision. You
signed him away in any case.”

“
I’ve still got my rights.”

“
For one month in every calendar year, and every fourth weekend.”

“
But you don’t want him.”

“
That doesn’t matter. You’re not gonna have him. Do I make
myself clear?”

“
Rhoda, for God’s sake. You’re not hurting me, but Neal. He’s
the one who’s suffering.”

Jay turned to Sports, his hands outstretched, and said: “Who’s
he?”

Rhoda sneered: “He’s not a stranger, but my fiancé.”

“
Do you want money?” Jay asked. “I’ll give you money, and we’ll
get the decision reversed if you sign him over.”

“
Amazing,” she said to Sports, who was skimming through the
sporting events in the newspapers. “Now he wants his son. When I
was carrying him, he knocked me
down,
and paid for an abortion
I never went through with.”

“
Oh, God. Old dirt. You have to drag it in.”

“
Your wife is such a terrific influence?”

“
She does what I tell her to do.”

“
Yeah, I’ll bet. Why don’t you go home, Jay? This isn’t your house
anymore
.”

“
It’s a disgrace.
A filthy pig sty.
The way you’ve let everything fall
apart,
neglected it. Dirty. And horrible that my child has to live here
when I can give him everything. So you’re paying me back through
him. You’re not a fit mother.”

“
The apartment ain’t so bad,” Sports said.
“I’ve seen worse. A
couple of coats of paint and some new paper.”

“
A fit mother? You can afford to talk . . .”

“
Not bad at all. A few new pieces and . . .”

“
You’re moving in?” Jay demanded.

“
Yeah, if it’s
awright
with you?”

“
In a place that another man paid for. Sleeping in a bed I slept in
with . . .”

“
I ain’t squeamish. So
lookit
, Jay. If you said your piece, why
do
n’tcha
call it a night and let us all get some sleep, huh?”

“
Rhoda, I’ll make you sorry you were born.”

“
You’ve done that already, so save your threats. Stick ‘em up your
ass or write me a lawyer’s letter.”

He went to strike Rhoda and stopped in his tracks when he saw
Neal staring at him.

“
I woke up. Why’re you screaming at Daddy, Mom? Why’s everybody always screaming?” He covered his ears with his hands when
they started to shout again. They stopped when they saw him rush
back to the bedroom. Jay went after him, and Rhoda screamed. “Get
out, scum.”