tell me, Saint Benny. But learn something, Saint Never trust a hophead.”
After she had slammed out of the room he stood a while. He ran a hand over his tired face and just stood.
A week, maybe, Alverato had said. A week maybe, or perhaps a little more, because Big Wheel Saint Benny had the right dame and everything under control.
Then she came back. She had a pair of shorts in her hand and a halter. “Beat it, Tapkow. I want to dress.” She turned and saw him still standing there. “Don’t worry about me, Tapkow, I’ll be around.”
He stayed there and lit a cigarette. “I just learned something,” he said. “Never trust a hophead.”
She shrugged. Then she let the robe fall to the floor. He saw her pull the shorts over her hips and then fit the halter around her breasts. She patted herself, ran a hand through her hair, and went to the door. “You don’t believe me, Tapkow?” She opened the door. “Then just remember. I don’t like Daddy any better than you do. Less.” She banged the door.
He went downstairs and stood in the hallway. When he saw the short girl from the day before, the one with the wet sheet, he followed her to the terrace, because she was pushing a cart with a coffeepot and other things on it. He had a cup of coffee and let it burn his tongue. It helped.
And what had happened in the room upstairs, that had helped. He was back to the time before, thinking only of the things that mattered and the way he’d made them all come true. The big deal in the palm of his hand and nothing to stop him from keeping it there.
Then he went back to the hall and sat down where he could see the stairs and the cars beyond the open front door. Never trust a hophead, she had said.
When he saw Pat again the shock made him stare. It was the same girl with her long legs tanned and the sun suit and the rumpled hair. Only the hair was rumpled as if it were on fire, her eyes were deep glittering stones, and she was screeching as if the air around her were all spikes and nettles. She came jumping down the stairs and when she came closer Benny saw that she was laughing. She passed him with a wild jump, ran to the door, then back, and stopped before him. Her hand shot out and he felt a sharp pinch on his check while she crinkled her eyes in laughter. Then she was up the stairs and gone.
Before Benny got halfway up she came back. Tober was with her. Somehow his wasted frame managed to look sodden and they both were giggling like maniacs. Benny gave no warning. One hand grabbed the front of the shirt, the other drew back like the kick of a wild horse.
But it never came through. He let go of Tober and lunged for Pat, who was climbing over the railing ready to jump. How she got away he never knew. The next thing was her wail, then the smack of her bare feet on the tile below. Before Benny got down she was racing through the front door and into the yard.
Benny came to a stop at the open door. He saw her in the car, behind the wheel, and she was looking his way. She sounded quiet and hostile. “I’m leaving,” she said. The motor was racing and her hand was on the shift.
He didn’t know how she had got the keys, but that wasn’t important now. Tober had come up to the door and he looked at the car with interest. “I never drive when I’m high,” he was saying. “I’m an old bore and I have a number of cardinal rules.”
“Tober.” Benny talked low, afraid to move. “Make her stop. She mustn’t get away, Tober.” A drop of sweat stung his eye but he didn’t even blink.
“Oh, Patty!” It was a singsong, like the voice of a nurse calling a child. “Before you leave, Patty-”
She was listening.
“Before you leave, Patty-”
Both men advanced slowly. She threw the car into gear with a crash.
“I don’t want that Tapkow pig to come any closer!” She sounded fluttery and shrill. “I don’t want that Tapkow pig. You never give up, Tapkow, do you?”
He didn’t have an idea what she was talking about. He had stopped next to Tober, and he spoke in a hoarse whisper. “Tober, tell her to wait. Tell her to have one farewell drink and spike it hard. Do you hear?”
“But, Benny, all I got is-You didn’t want me to give her-”
“Load her till her top flies off, but stop her!”
The three figures in the hard light of the sun were immobile. The motor was murmuring, then it howled, then it murmured again.
“Oh, Patty…” The singsong again. “One for the road, honey?”
“What?” She blinked at them in the sun.
“Running out is one thing, honey, but running dry is another.”
She sat still, thinking. Only her foot was nervous, making the motor growl.
“Oh, Patty…”
“Stop that yammer,” Benny whispered. “Tell her again.”
“All right,” she called across the yard, “but that Tapkow swine mustn’t move. I don’t want that Tapkow piggy to come any closer.”
“He won’t, Patty-cake,” Tober called. He went into the house and Benny stayed where he was.
It seemed an eternity in the white sun, each muscle an ache of its own, and the cold sweat a slippery itch on his skin.
“Clink, clink, Patty-cake!” Tober came down the stairs and into the sun with a tray that held a pitcher. The liquid was almost green and it slopped with each step. When Tober got to the car she took her foot off the clutch and the jerk made her head snap back. Then the motor was dead. There was a discussion about it for a while, and then she started the car again. She said, “You didn’t bring a glass.”
Benny watched her hold the tray while Tober bounded back to the house. She stared at him while they waited, staring to see that he didn’t move.
Tober got back then and he poured her a glassful. “Now this’ll jolt you a little, but don’t let it throw you. I’m here to catch you when you land.” He giggled.
Pat lifted the glass and drank.
She didn’t cough or shudder or do any of those things. She drank it and said, “How did you get it so bitter?” and then she finished the rest of the glass.
“Now we need about five minutes of silence while that heavenly stuff starts to pop.”
Was that hophead going to give away the show? Benny started to tremble. He heard Patty say, “I haven’t got five more minutes,” and he couldn’t hold it any longer. He kicked up dust when he started his sprint, dust almost like the cloud that churned up behind the car as the gears crashed again, the car lurched, and Tober weaved to balance the tray. Benny heard the buckling sound of the straining motor, the cough of the exhaust while the car tried to make it in high. Pat’s head was nodding with stubborn jerks, and as the motor died she slumped out of sight. Then Benny was at the car and looking at the blank eves that were not yet quite out. He opened the door, picked her up, carried her into the house. He noticed how limp she was but he hardly gave it a thought.
Chapter Fourteen
Benny stayed in her room for a while, watching her. Finally the sight of her drugged sleep made him turn away. He turned his chair to the window and sat in her room.
That’s why he didn’t hear the phone. It rang for a while with nobody around to answer it Then Tober went back into the hall. The phone was in a niche there and the sharp ringing set his teeth on edge. He picked up the receiver and yelled, “Hello, hello, hello! This is Tober speakin’ and squeakin’. Do I know you?… Do I know you, Fingers? Why, Fingers, if anybody in the whole world were to ask me how many fingers I know, do you realize what I’d say? Do you know-Fingers, I’m not finished. The story isn’t finished. Right now I’d say to you, ‘Yes, dear sir, I know eleven, ten of which I have on my two hands and one of which is you!’-Fingers, I don’t hear laughter. I don’t hear laughter. I don’t hear- That’s better, Fingers. Now, what did you say?”
He listened for a while, saying ooh and aah and of course I know Tapkow, and you say she is a sweet young thing? Then he said, “How should I know, dear Fingers?” and hung up the phone. Right then he had it in mind to find Benny, but he got distracted by a bunch of people in bathing suits who came jumping and singing down the hall.
