The Good Life (52 page)

“What was the awful part?”

“Guess. The psychiatric test — or interrogation or whatever it's called — more like an inquisition. God! I don't know how I got through it. They really made me feel like the scum of the earth. I thought psychiatrists were supposed to understand that sort of thing.

“The guy I got — there were four desks in a room, and we were still naked and told to go to the table when the guy ahead of you finished. I got this skinny little doctor — they are doctors? Psychiatrists? — who seemed bored to death until he got to the question ‘Have you ever had any homosexual experiences?' And I answered, ‘Yes, sir.' He almost fell out of his chair. He looked at me like I'd lost my mind and repeated the question louder, loud enough so that other people could hear. And I said, ‘Yes, sir, I have.'”

“It does take some bravery, doesn't it?” Billy said.

“Bravery or stupidity. I must have been the first one to say yes to that question. He looked so horrified that I actually started to laugh and pretend I was joking, but he didn't strike me as somebody who'd like to share a joke.”

“You poor boy.”

“Then the bastard went back over the form, studying it and pointing out that I said I was married and how did that figure and was I
sure
I knew what homosexual experiences were?”

Billy let out a hoot of laughter, and Perry had to join in. It really was rather funny in retrospect.

“And of course now the others are all listening in. Not only the doctors but the guys being interviewed. They just turned around and stared at me. I told the doctor that I did know, and then he asked me to explain to him what they were.”

Billy hooted again and then said, “Sorry. Go on.”

“Well, I could have killed him. It went from bad to worse. I tried to sort of whisper to him and make it sort of clinical or something, but he was so hostile and nasty that I couldn't make any sense. I'd got in that far, and I couldn't back out. I just blurted something about cock-sucking and hoped I could drop through the floor.”

Billy patted him on the knee. “I'm sure you won't regret it.”

“I sure as hell regretted it then. Finally he filled in the damned paper with a sneer and sort of flung it at me as though he'd catch some disease if we touched the paper at the same time. He dismissed me with a jerk of his head and snarled, ‘Next.'”

Perry swallowed half of his drink in a gulp. “I got up and had to walk past all the others, who were sniggering and whispering. Just as I got to the door, I heard somebody say, ‘Just look at that cock. That guy
must
be queer to deny women that.'”

This time they both roared with laughter, and then they refilled their glasses. Billy was the only person in the world he could ever tell that story to. He would tell Bet that they discovered a busted eardrum and had classified him 4-F.

Perry felt anything but queer with Bet. Being with her dazzled him. Heads turned and people stared as they entered or left a room.

Bet's picture had appeared enough in the papers that people were starting to recognize her on the street. It amused her and gave him a thrill of prideful ownership. She was his. All of her — including her inability to understand anything about living on a budget. He loved her being the most beautifully dressed woman in any room, but it was costing a fortune to make stunning entrances and to be mentioned as the “glamorous Mrs. Langham.”

The glamorous Mrs. Langham couldn't be seen in the same dress twice. When he tried to talk money to her, she would shrug and ask what it was for if not to be spent. She had always assumed that he had an independent income equal to her own. With his job and his winnings, he was almost able to hold his own and avoid the difficult explanations about his vanished inheritance.

“The income on an inheritance isn't necessarily just pocket money, you know. It's not absolutely imperative that every cent of it be spent,” he tried to explain.

“I'm going to break that stupid trust. The lawyers say it'll be easier when I'm twenty-one. That's less than a year.”

“Please don't, baby. I honestly don't want you to. We'll just spend it. You shouldn't touch it, at least until your big inheritance comes through. Let's try to manage with what we have.”

They had managed to let Billy's final big gift go in careless spending, but Perry had secretly sent $5,000 to his parents with the understanding that they use it to buy a house. They wouldn't have to live in a trailer again.

The end of a harsh and bitter winter — one punctuated by some harsh and bitter quarrels about money — was in sight. The sky cleared, and the subject of money dropped momentarily from sight when Bet came to the rapturous conclusion that she was pregnant.

“There's no doubt about it now, darling. Isn't that heavenly? I'll probably have the little dear in September. Oh, darling, make mad love to me for hours. Are we going to have lots more?”

“Let's get this one firmly on the ground and established, and then we'll surround him with dozens of brothers and sisters.”

Perry was over the moon with joy. He couldn't wait to tell Billy and dashed over without calling ahead when one of his appointments was canceled at the last minute.

Perry was shocked out of his joyous mood the moment he walked into Billy's room. In one day Billy had turned into a visibly dying man. He sat huddled in blankets in the corner of the room, looking wasted and shrunken and complaining about not being able to get warm. Perry was appalled and terrified by this sudden change.

“What in the world has happened?” he demanded.

“Just a bad day. The worst yet, actually. I don't think there will be many more.”

Perry gasped and dropped to a knee in front of him, drawing him gently into his arms. Billy surrendered to the warmth of his body. Billy's startling frailty brought tears to Perry's eyes, and he rocked him tenderly. “God, Billy, it's so awful,” he murmured to the side of his face.

“It's good of you to make me feel you care.”

Perry hugged him tighter, and, as his own body was shaken by sobs, he tried to speak. “Billy, you know I—”

“Don't mind too much,” Billy whispered, easing himself back into the chair. Perry's head was bent, and he clung to his friend's bony shoulders. “I think it's going to be the way I hoped — quick and without too much fuss. I've been waiting for you.”

“Why didn't you call? Why didn't you tell me?”

Billy smiled. “I did. You're here. I was sending you messages.” Billy made a weak gesture with his head. “I've been waiting for you to have a drink with me. Let's make it a big one.”

“You let Laszlo go home?”

“Of course.”

“Where's Jesus?”

“Out shopping, I suppose. Loaves and fishes.”

“I don't like your being alone when you're like this. I'll come back later and spend the night. In the morning we can talk it over with Laszlo and make some changes.”

Perry handed Billy his drink. He reached for it with an unsteady hand, using both hands finally to hold it. Perry turned back quickly to the bar to avoid watching the painful lifting of the glass.

“If I don't pull myself together, I suppose I'd better think about getting a nurse. Preferably male.”

“Couldn't Jesus help a bit in that department?”

“It's bad enough having to eat his food,” Billy quipped. “I couldn't bear his touching me.”

Perry laughed. Billy still had plenty of fight in him. “You're right. I'll speak to the doctor about it. You need a freshener, Billy.” He refilled the glass. “There. A good strong one.”

“That's the ticket. Here's to you, my dearest. May you have many happy days.”

“Thank you, Billy, for so many happy days already.” He raised his glass. “And here's to Little Billy.”

Billy looked blank for a moment and then smiled with deep satisfaction. “That's the best news I've had. Really? When?”

“Bet thinks September.”

“I probably won't be here, but just knowing that he's here or at least on his way is thrilling.” Billy lifted his glass again and jutted out his chin, looking momentarily like his old, arrogant self. “Here's to my grandson.”

Bet continued to blossom and by Easter began to show a little, but their excitement about the baby was dulled by Billy's deteriorating condition. He was not pulling himself together.

“It's too awful, darling,” Bet said. “Daddy is so sweet. He's so thrilled about the baby, but I feel my visits tire him. He says he doesn't want to see anybody but us. By us, he means you.”

“I know. He's too weak to leave the house. Do you feel that he's in terrible pain?”

“He always puts on a good show. You know Daddy.” She shook her head. “I just can't tell. But if he's suffering, I wish they'd do something.” They exchanged a knowing look.

“I know he takes very powerful painkillers and the doctor has told him to be careful, but how can you be careful if you're in pain? He has begged me to keep him out of the hospital as long as possible. He loathes them and says they can't do anything for him unless he suddenly has to have all sorts of complicated treatment just to keep him alive. It's a hideous thought. Billy would hate it. He says he's depressed enough without thinking of what they'd do to him in a hospital.”

Bet put her arms around his waist and leaned her cheek against his chest. “I just don't want him to suffer,” she said softly.

“I know. There are times when I can't bear to look at him. I swear I can see the disease devouring him.”

Bet pulled back and looked up at him. “I keep praying that he'll get to see the baby.”

“So do I, but my optimism is waning.”

Perry was right. The nurse called him early in the morning a couple of days later to tell him that he had found Billy dead in his bed.

“Shall I come with you?” Bet asked as he jumped out of bed and started dressing.

“Don't, baby. I'm going to run. Take your time. I'll wait until you get there.” He put his hand on her swollen belly and stroked the taut skin. “We have to think of Little Billy.”

As he hurried down the street in the early-morning sun, he thought that Billy was lucky not to have to face another blistering summer in the city, air-conditioning or no. He had hated it. Dr. Sansome was in charge when he got to Billy's.

“I think he took too many painkillers, but I'm not going to make a case of it,” the doctor told him. “You know I warned him they could be dangerous for his heart, but he may have decided to ignore me. I can't blame him.”

“No. He didn't want it to drag on and on.”

“The officials are upstairs taking care of everything. Do you want to see him?”

“Not unless I should. His daughter will be here in a minute. I'll go up with her.”

Left alone, Perry wandered though the familiar rooms — the rooms where his real life, this good life, had started. He felt the profound loss of his dearest friend with every step he took. Thinking of all the things Billy had done for him, he realized that he would never know anybody like him again.

Billy had given him life — almost like Bet would give life to their son — and you're given only one life. Everything he was or had were gifts from Billy. And now Billy was gone. He looked out into the back garden, seeing nothing, not aware that tears were running down his cheeks until his forehead touched the cool surface of the windowpane and he touched his face with his hand.

“Perry?” Laszlo was at the door. Perry motioned to him. He came silently up behind him and put his hands on Perry's shoulders, then turned him around to face him and hugged him as Perry gave in to the sobs that were aching to be released. Laszlo held him, rocking him gently, saying nothing. They didn't have to speak. They both knew what they were thinking and what they'd lost.

Finally Perry straightened and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. They looked into each other's eyes with understanding and love. He still had Laszlo as a friend.

“Mrs. Hahn and your wife arrived together,” Laszlo said. “Mrs. Langham is asking where you are.”

“When he entered the next room, Bet was being held protectively by Mrs. Hahn in much the way Laszlo had held him. Mrs. Hahn kissed Bet lightly on the cheek and held her hand out to Perry. She was cool but polite with him.

She had never received him, but she made no difficulties about Bet's marriage. Both Perry and Bet deferred to her, and she took over all the arrangements with authority. This regal, austere-looking woman, ornately dressed in the old-fashioned, grande dame style of another generation, would be difficult to stand up to. Perry realized now what Billy had gone through all his life. The gold-handled umbrella she wielded like a scepter made her power absolute.

The ceremonious funeral Mrs. Hahn arranged the following day was attended only by family. Perry and Bet were seated with her, Billy's elderly stepfather in the front, with the rest of the family ranged out behind them. Arlene was relegated to the fringes. Along with other arrangements, Mrs. Hahn assumed further financial responsibility for Bet but was not liberal, as befits a young wife with a husband of her own to provide for her. She assured Bet that she would take care of all the maternity expenses. That was one worry off Perry's mind.

Laszlo and Perry cleared out Billy's sublet apartment with the understanding with Mrs. Hahn that the Langhams could have anything they wanted of Billy's. Laszlo arranged to dispose of the clothes, and Perry shared Billy's jewelry with him.

“You don't have to do that, Perry,” Laszlo said. “It's not necessary. Mr. Vernon did a great deal for me several years ago when we decided I'd become strictly an employee.”

“Then consider it's from both of us.”

When he left the duplex for the last time, Perry had his portrait — Billy liked to look at it, so Perry had left it with him — and a few pieces of furniture to take to the Park Avenue apartment. He also had the air-conditioning unit installed in their apartment for the baby. Billy's papers in the lawyers' office, including a file on the
Belle Époque
, were all in order. He'd supervised a very efficient death.