ones.
“Come here,” said Folsom.
Gus came over and I said, “May I tell him?”
“Go ahead,” said Folsom.
“Gus,” I said, “go over to Morry’s place where the guys are waiting and tell them to blow.”
“Blow?”
“Today’s deal is off. Folsom here is going to handle it differently.”
“He is?” said Gus.
“You heard him,” said Folsom.
“You mean we go home?”
“Get the hell out of here and tell the rest the same thing.”
Gus left, which was one down, two to go.
“Call that one,” I said.
The next one we sent to a place two blocks away. Two down, one to go.
“Go to that bar on Liberty and Alder,” said Folsom but I interrupted him.
“That won’t be necessary. They’re gone already.”
“Gone already? I didn’t give no orders for them guys to…”
“I was there,” I explained. “And the big one who was there-you know whom I mean?”
“I know that son of a bitch.”
“He got bored sitting around and he and his buddies went home. I was there when it happened.”
“Why in hell didn’t you stop them?” Folsom wanted to know.
“They were your men, Folsom.”
“Not any more they ain’t! They’re fired!”
I nodded, to show how I bowed to his verdict.
“You run down to the union hall,” Folsom yelled at his last lieutenant, “and if any of those creeps should show up there, you tell them what I said.”
“What,” said the man. “You said what?”
“They’re through! The whole pack of ‘em!”
He left, which was three down and none to go, when it came to the goons, but one to go when it came to trouble.
The jukebox played the last of the quarter, a little tune of goop and sentiment.
I walked up to the counter and Folsom did, too. He felt fine. He still had an audience.
“I think what I’ll do,” he said, “I’ll make this sucker here sign up for two machines.”
The young man looked from Folsom to me and then back again. Then he looked away. There was sweat on his forehead. I could see that he wished he did not have the baby right then. He stroked the baby’s back and didn’t say anything.
“Before Folsom here,” I said to the young man, “comes up with more, I want you to know, Herbie, that he’s strictly on his own.”
“That’s right,” said Folsom. “I’m handling this.”
“And if you want me to hold that baby a minute,” I said to the young man, “that would be fine, too.”
“Hold the baby?” said Herb.
“You mean you want him to sign something right away?” said Folsom.
“If he wants.”
Herbie had stopped patting the baby and his mouth was a little bit open.
“Like, maybe he doesn’t like your nose,” I said to Folsom, “and that would be a fine place for a signature. Or the rear end, something in big block letters printed there, maybe he’d like to leave his print there. Huh, Herbie?”
Herbie got it by now. He was grinning and rocking the baby again. Folsom, however, did not want to believe what he heard.
“Just a minute, just a minute,” he said.
“No,” Herbie told him. “Get out. And now.”
“Who’s running this!” Folsom yelled.
I said, “Not you, Folsom.”
“What?”
“You’re through.”
“You realize what you’re doing?” he said with a last snatch at the powerful dream he’d been having. “You’re not backing me up!”
“Turn around and I will, Folsom.”
He stepped back and looked mean as hell in his leather jacket.
“You been wanting to do this a while now, haven’t you, St. Louis?”
“That’s right.”
“You can’t stand me, can you?”
“Not since I first laid eyes on you, Folsom.”
“Izzatso?”
“It was fate.”
“I’m getting too big for you, huh?”
“No. I dislike you for no reason at all.”
Which was almost true. I like my dislikes and I don’t fool with them by asking where they might have come from.
“You know what I’m going to do?” said Folsom. “I’m going to let you just talk, St. Louis. Just talk, because that’s all it is.”
“Get out.”
“I’m going to walk out of here and keep handling this my way.”
“I’m going to take that leather jacket away from you, Folsom, and then nobody’s going to recognize you.”
“You’re asking for trouble!”
“You sent them away, don’t you remember? The whole zoo.”
He remembered. He worked his face and then he meant to walk out.
“I’m seeing Lippit,” he said.
“That’s what happened to the big one,” I said, “the one you just fired. He talked to Lippit Ask him about it.”
“You’re nuts-”
“City dog pound,” I said. “Try there. They’re using what’s left for the evening feeding.”
Folsom made for the door as if he meant to pay that visit.
“Just a minute.”
I walked after him and he stopped. He was boiling and not really worried about me, because all I did was talk. And I had my hands in my pockets. The juke box sighed the end of that thing it had been playing. It clicked a little and racked the record away.
“Folsom,” I said, “you didn’t pay for the background music.”
“Huh?”
“Four bits, Folsom. In the kitty.”
For no answer, after maybe a second, he started to turn for the door. Then he jerked and stopped. I had my heel on his foot.
“Four bits, Folsom.”
I’m sure he wanted to hit me. At least he was thinking about it. I didn’t move my heel but hefted some weight on top of it and what that does to the nervous system is like an electric blue charge going all up and down.
“And all this suffering for a quarter,” I said to him. I also took my hands out of my pockets.
He took out a quarter. I took my heel off his foot and let him put the coin on the counter.
