'I don't believe that, son,' said Guidry. This struck Lee as funny, and he began to laugh.
'I hear Jim Cochan has gone back to the States,' said Guidry. 'He plans to work in Alaska.'
'Thank God I am a gentleman of independent means, and don't have to expose myself to the inclemencies of near-Arctic conditions,' said Lee. 'By the way, did you ever meet Jim's wife, Alice? My god, she is an American bitch that won't quit. I never yet see her equal. Jim does not have one friend he can take to the house. She has forbidden him to eat out, as she does not want he should take in any nourishment unless she is there to watch him eat it. Did you ever hear the likes of that? Needless to say, my place is out of bounds to Jim, and he always has that hunted look when he comes to see me. I don't know why American men put up with such shit from a woman.
Of course I am no expert judge of female flesh, but Alice has 'lousy lay' writ all over her scrawny, unappetizing person.'
'You're coming on mighty bitchy tonight, Lee,' said Guidry.
'And not without reason. Did I tell you about this Wigg person? He is an American hipster around town, a junky who is said to play a cool bass fiddle. Strictly on the chisel, even though he has gold, and he's always mooching junk, saying 'No, I don't want to buy any. I'm kicking. I just want half a fix.' I have had all I can stand still for from this character. Driving around in a new three-thousand-dollar Chrysler, and too cheap to buy his own junk. What am I, the Junky's Benevolent Society for christ sake? This Wigg is as ugly as people get.'
'You making it with him?' asked Guidry, which seemed to shock his young friend.
'Not even. I got bigger fish to fry,' said Lee. He glanced over at Allerton, who was laughing at something Mary had said.
'Fish is right,' quipped Guidry. 'Cold, slippery, and hard to catch.'
Chapter 5
Lee had an appointment with Allerton for eleven o'clock Monday morning to go to the National Pawn Shop and get his camera out of hock. Lee came to Allerton's room and woke him up exactly at eleven. Allerton was sullen. He seemed on the point of going back to sleep. Finally Lee said, 'Well, are you going to get up now, or . . .'
Allerton opened his eyes and blinked like a turtle. 'I'm getting up,' he said.
Lee sat down and read a newspaper, careful to avoid watching Allerton dress. He was trying to control his hurt and anger, and the effort exhausted him. A heavy drag slowed movement and thought. Lee's face was rigid, his voice toneless. The strain continued through breakfast. Alierton sipped tomato juice in silence.
It took all day to get the camera. Alierton had lost the ticket. They went from one office to another.
The officials shook their heads and drummed on the table, waiting. Lee put out two hundred pesos extra in bites. He finally paid the four hundred pesos, plus interest and various charges. He handed the camera to Alierton, who took it without comment.
They went back to the Ship Ahoy in silence. Lee went in and ordered a drink. Alierton disappeared. About an hour later he came in and sat with Lee.
'How about dinner tonight?' asked Lee.
Allerton said, 'No, I think I'll work tonight.'
Lee was depressed and shattered. The warmth and laughter of Saturday night was lost, and he did not know why. In any relation of love or friendship Lee attempted to establish contact on the non-verbal level of intuition, a silent exchange of thought and feeling. Now Alierton had abruptly shut off contact, and Lee felt a physical pain as though a part of himself tentatively stretched out towards the other had been severed, and he was looking at the bleeding stump in shock and disbelief.
Lee said, 'Like the Wallace administration, I subsidize non-production. I will pay you twenty pesos not to work tonight.' Lee was about to develop the idea, but Allerton's impatient coolness stopped him. He fell silent, looking at Allerton with shocked, hurt eyes.
Allerton was nervous and irritable, drumming on the table and looking around. He did not himself understand why Lee annoyed him.
'How about a drink?' Lee said.
'No. Not now. Anyway, I have to go.'
Lee got up jerkily. 'Well, I'll see you,' he said. 'I'll see you tomorrow.'
'Yes. Good night.'
He left Lee standing there, trying to formulate a plan to keep Allerton from going, to make an appointment for the next day, to mitigate in some way the hurt he had received.
Allerton was gone. Lee felt for the back of his chair and lowered himself into it, like a man weak from illness. He stared at the table, his thoughts slow, as if he were very cold.
The bartender placed a sandwich in front of Lee. 'Huh?' said Lee. 'What's this?'
'The sandwich you ordered.'
'Oh, yes.' Lee took a few bites out of the sandwich, washing it down with water. 'On my bill, Joe,'
he called to the bartender.
He got up and walked out. He walked slowly. Several times he leaned on a tree, looking at the ground as if his stomach hurt. Inside his apartment he took off his coat and shoes, and sat down on the bed. His throat began to ache, moisture hit his eyes, and he fell across the bed, sobbing convulsively. He pulled his knees up and covered his face with his hands, the fists clenched.
Towards morning he turned on his back and stretched out. The sobs stopped, and his face relaxed in the morning light.
