She stared at me, stared right through me as if I wasn't there, didn't give a flicker of recognition. Then she turned toward Don and came into him like a prize fighter.
'Damn you, Don, can't you get me some good sticks?' she said in a flat grating voice. 'They got a new nigger in the tool crib now and she don't know her ass from a hole in the ground.'
Don blinked. Neither of them looked at me. All three of us knew she didn't care about the rods; she just wanted to call me a nigger and took that way to do it.
'What are you doing down here?' Don asked her.
'I'm looking for you,' she grated.
'Are you sure?' he asked in a soft baiting voice.
Red came up in her face like a sunrise. 'What in the hell do you mean, am I sure?'
'I mean I'm not your leaderman,' he said evenly. 'I don't have anything to do with the kind of rods they give out. Why don't you see your own leaderman?'
'Well, it's your job that's gotta be done,' she snarled. 'And if these tacks don't hold, just blame that nigger in the tool crib.'
I started to call her on it then. But I knew she was raking me through Don and if I said anything to her she'd have jumped red raving.
But Don did it his way. 'How'd you make out last night?' he asked.
She had started away, now she wheeled back, but her gaze sought me first, slashed at me, then pinned on him. 'Now what the hell do you mean?'
'You told me you were going out with a new boy friend,' he said. 'Remember? I was just wondering what kind of a guy he turned out to be.'
'I didn't tell you any such a goddamned thing,' she stormed.
He blinked again, his eyes giving off sparks behind his rimless spectacles, then spread his hands. 'All right, it wasn't you. It must have been somebody else. I just drove by your place early this morning and thought I saw you getting out of a car.'
I jerked around to look at him. She gave me another quick killing look, then levelled a furious challenging stare on his benign face. 'You better mind your own goddamn business, thass what! You just better!' she whispered savagely, turned, and stalked off.
My eyes grew narrow and feverish. It crowded back into me-to go get her, to have it out.
Don said, 'She's touchy today, isn't she?' looking at me. I was embarrassed under his scrutiny, didn't understand his game. Right then I didn't care. I just wanted to get away from him.
'See you, Papa,' I said as lightly as I could and walked off before he could stop me.
I went back to the booth and called Alice again. This time I got her. 'It's Bob, baby,' I said, swallowing. 'Look, if I pick you up in about an hour, can I take you to lunch?'
'Where are you now?' she asked.
'Oh, I'm on the job,' I said. 'But I'm going to check out in a few minutes. I want to talk to you.'
There was a long pause and when she spoke again her voice sounded distant. 'What can we possibly talk about, Bob, that we haven't talked about before? You reject everything I say to you. All we do is quarrel.'
The receiver got so heavy I could hardly hold it. 'Okay, baby,' I said. 'I'll see you.'
I hung up, went back out on the yard, stood for a long time in the hot sunshine. Beyond was the road leading down to the outfitting dock, flanked by the various shops, dropping off in the blue-grey stretch of the harbour. Off to the left was a row of hulls in various stages of erection, spaced apart by the craneways. Cranes were silhouetted against the sky like long-legged, one-armed spiders, swinging shapes and plates aboard. Over there the workers walked with care. Everywhere was the hustle and bustle of moving busy workers, trucks, plate lifts, yard cranes, electric mules, the blue flashes of arc welders, brighter than the noonday sun. And the noise, always loud, unabating, ear-splitting. I loved it like my first love.
But now I was cutting out, I told myself. Atlas wasn't for me any more. I was getting the hell out of L.A. Away from Alice too. Going to 'Frisco, maybe. Las Vegas. Somewhere. I shook my head. Goddamnit, maybe she just don't know how much I need her, I thought. Maybe she thought it was easy for me to do the things she wanted. Maybe it was easy to some folks, I thought. But not to me. I'd already read and I was running. Read and run, nigger.
But when I started moving again I knew I was looking for Madge. I went up to the fourth deck first, found the team she'd been working with, but she was nowhere in sight. I searched the ship from fore to aft, from the superstructure down to the flat keel, but I didn't find her. I went out on the dock, walked down to the water, looked out across the harbour. But I couldn't stand still; I felt as if a thousand things were tearing at me, pulling at me. My feet felt weighted, my mouth sour. My coveralls chafed. My jacket was hot. I peeled it off, unbuttoned the top buttons of my coveralls, kicked my hat back from my eyes, dug a cigarette from a squashed pack and lit it.
Then I started looking for her again, with seven devils beating in my head. I just couldn't help it. I had to talk to her. Had to get it out my system and all of Texas wasn't going to stop me.
I had to do something to bring her down, to hurt her in some kind of way, humiliate her, make a fool out of her like I'd made out of myself, or I just wouldn't be able to keep out of trouble, I knew. I wouldn't be able to think straight about Alice either, after she'd gone out with Leighton last night.
So I climbed back to the weather deck and started off again. My head felt swollen; heat was growing in my brain. Somebody slapped me on the back. I jumped a good six feet, whirled with my dukes up.
Herbie Frieberger said in his loud jubilant voice, 'Jesus Christ, you're jumpy. What the hell's the matter with you?'
'Man, goddamnit, are you fighting or playing?' I said. 'How many bowls of Wheaties did you eat this morning?'
He looked aggrieved. 'I've been looking for you all morning to get that grievance, fellow. Jesus Christ, is this all the thanks I get?'
'I haven't got any grievance,' I grated.
He looked blank. 'What about what we were talking about?' He frowned. 'Don't you remember? I told you to write out the grievance and give it to me and I'd present it before the executive board.'
I tried to quiet my nerves and be pleasant. But it was no go. 'Look, Herbie,' I said. 'I'm not gonna make any grievance. I'm gonna let it go.' My voice was raw and shaky; all of a sudden I felt sick.
'But I thought you wanted-' he began.
I cut him off. 'All I want is peace,' I said. I was tired, tired, tired. 'Just peace, Herbie. Is that too hard for you to understand?'
Herbie looked at me for a long moment. 'You're lucky you're not a Jew,' he said.
CHAPTER XIX
When one of Kelly's flunkeys came up at about a quarter of twelve and said there was a call for me, all I thought was, Please just let it be Alice. I held my breath all the way down to the tool crib, and when the girl gave me a different number to call I went dead inside. For an instant I started not to call it, then I went ahead on the off-chance.
'Alice?'
When I heard her voice, light and gay, 'Darling, I've changed my mind again. Isn't that just like a woman?' I let my breath out in a long soft sigh and felt the life come back into me.
'My luck is really getting good,' I said. 'This is the very first time a woman's prerogative has ever worked in my favour.'
'There's no such thing as luck,' she teased. 'It's only the correct application of effort, energy, evaluation-'
'And eccentricity,' I supplied, laughing. 'Do you know you've just won the Robert Jones medal for distinguished service?'
'And by what action, General Jones? Certainly not merely because I am exceedingly glamorous, talented, intelligent, wealthy, famous, and unattached?'
