Savage Night

'Yes?' That broad-A yes was getting on my nerves. 'Should that mean something to me?'

'That depends,' I said, 'on whether fifteen dollars a week means anything to you.'

'Fif-Oh, of course!' She laughed suddenly. 'I'm terribly sorry, Car-Mr. Bigelow. Our hired girl-our maid, that is- had to go home to her folks-a family crisis of some kind-and we were really expecting you last week and-and things have been in such a turmoil that-'

'Surely. Of course-' I cut her off, I hated to see anyone work so hard for a few bucks. 'It's my fault, entirely. Can I make up for it by buying you a drink?'

'Well, I was-' She hesitated, doubtfully, and I began to like her a little better. 'If you're sure you-'

'I can,' I said. 'Today's a celebration. Tomorrow I'll start tightening up.'

'Well,' she said, 'in that case-'

I bought her two drinks. Then, because I could see she wanted to ask for it, I gave her thirty dollars.

'Two weeks in advance,' I said. 'Okay?'

'Oh, now,' she protested, huskily, that well-bred voice hitting on all cylinders. 'That's entirely unnecessary. After all-we-Mr. Winroy and I aren't doing this for money. We felt it was more or less our duty, you know, living here in a college town to-'

'Let's be friends,' I said.

'Friends? I'm afraid I don't-'

'Sure. So we can relax, I hadn't been in town more than fifteen minutes before I knew all about Mr. Winroy's trouble,'

Her face had gotten a little stiff. 'I wish you'd told me,' she said. 'You must have thought I was a terrible fool to-'

'Will you,' I said, 'relax?' And I gave her my best grin, big and boyish and appealing. 'If you keep talking about being in turmoil and a terrible fool and all that stuff, you'll get me dizzy. And I'm dizzy enough just looking at you.'

She laughed. She gave my hand a squeeze. 'Listen to the man! Or did you mean that the right way?'

'You know how I meant it,' I said.

'I'll bet I look a fright. Honest to Hannah, Carl, I-Oop, listen to me. Calling you Carl, already.'

'Everybody does,' I said. 'I wouldn't know how to take it if anyone called me mister.'

But I'd like to try, I thought. And I'd sure try to take it.

'It's been such a mess, Carl, For months I couldn't open a door without a cop or a reporter popping out at me, and then just when I think it's finished and I'm going to have a little peace, it starts all over again. I don't like to complain, Carl-I really don't-but-'

She did like to, naturally. Everyone does. But a dame who'd lived on the soft money so long was too smart to do it,

She let her hair down just far enough to be friendly.

'That's certainly tough,' I said. 'How long do you plan on staying here?'

'How long?' She laughed shortly. 'The rest of my life it looks like.'

'You don't mean that,' I said. 'A woman like you.'

'Why don't I mean it? What else can I do? I let everything slide when I married Jake. Gave up my singing-you knew I was a singer?-well, I gave that up. I haven't been in a night club in years except to buy a drink. I just let everything slide, my voice, my contacts; everything. Now, I'm not a kid any more.'

'Now stop that,' I said. 'You stop that right now.'

'Oh, I'm not complaining, Carl. Really I'm not… How about another drink?'

I let her buy it.

'Well,' I said, 'I don't know too much about the case, and it's easy for me to talk. But-'

'Yes?'

'I think Mr. Winroy should have stayed in jail. That's what I'd have done.'

'Of course, you would! Any man would.'

'But maybe he knows best,' I said. 'He'll probably work out some big deal that'll put you higher on the heap than you were before.'

She turned her head sharply, her eyes blazing fire. But I was all wide-eyed and innocent.

The fire died, and she smiled and squeezed my hand again.

'It's sweet of you to say that, Carl, but I'm afraid,.. I get so damned burned up I-well, what's the use talking when I can't do anything?'

I sighed and started to buy another drink.

'Let's not,' she said. 'I know you can't afford it-and I've had enough. I'm kind of funny that way, I guess. If there's anything that gets me, it's to see a person keep pouring it down after they've had enough.'

'You know,' I said, 'it's funny that you should mention that. It's exactly the way I feel. I can take a drink or even three or four, but then I'm ready to give it a rest. With me it's the companionship and company that counts.'

'Of course. Certainly,' she nodded. 'That's the way it should be.'

I picked up my change, and we left the place. We crossed the street, and I got my bags off the porch and followed her to my room. She was acting a little thoughtful.

'This looks fine,' I said. 'I'm sure I'm going to like it here.'

'Carl-' She was looking at me, curiously, friendly enough but curious.

'Yes?' I said. 'Is there something wrong?'

'You're a lot older than you look, aren't you?'

'Now, how old would that be?' And, then, I nodded soberly. 'I must have tipped you off,' I said. 'You'd never have known it from looking at me.'

'Why do you say it that way? You don't like-'

I shrugged. 'What's the use not liking it? Sure, I love it. Who wouldn't like being a man and looking like a kid? Having people laugh every time you act like a man.'

'I haven't laughed at you, Carl.'

'I haven't given you the chance,' I said. 'Suppose things had been different. Suppose, say, I'd met you at a party and I'd tried to kiss you like any man in his right mind would. Why, you'd have laughed your head off! And don't tell me you wouldn't, because I know you would!'

I jammed my hands into my pockets and turned my back on her. I stood there, head bowed, shoulders slumped, staring down at the threadbare carpet… It was raw, corny as hell- but it had almost always worked before, and! was pretty sure it would with her,

She crossed the room and came around in front of me. She put a hand under my chin and tilted it up.

'You know what you are?' she said, huskily. 'You're a slicker.'

She kissed me on the mouth. 'A slicker,' she repeated, smiling at me slant-eyed. 'What's a fast guy like you doing at a tank-town teachers' college?'

'I don't really know,' I said. 'It's hard to put into words. It's-well, maybe you know how it is, You've been doing the same thing for a long time, and you don't think you're getting ahead fast enough. So you look around for some way of changing things. And you're probably so fed up with what you've been doing that anything that comes along looks good to you.'