at the zoo.
“Mister Benotti?” I said. “I’m Jack St. Louis.”
We had never met but he knew who I was. I don’t know how much he knew, but I did not approve of his reaction because he looked at me through the screen and started to laugh. Hahaha, he went and came out on the porch.
“Good evening,” I said.
Benotti turned back to the door and told his kids to stay at the table and to his wife he said that he’d be right back in. No. She needn’t put the food back in the oven.
“Wellsir,” he said to me. “Jack St. Louis,” and looked me all up and down. “You all dressed for the funeral?”
I had thought, on the way over and while cooling off from that last sight of Louie, maybe I’ll just talk to the man, clever extraction of news, background, information. Talk to him and-who knows-maybe we’ll get along. But with his looks and his attitude, I had a hard time with that plan. I waited till he was done laughing again and then I said, “No. I came to talk to you in polite English.”
“He talks fancy, like an actor. May I have your autograph?”
“All right.”
It is a matter of chemistry in the nerves that the other guy can never react fast enough to get out of the way, if you don’t telegraph. I never do. So I gave him my autograph willynilly, very anxious for speed, because I wanted to get two in while the getting was good.
He went ratatat on the clapboard behind him with the back of his head and then he said, fairly loud, “Eat your supper in there! I’ll be right in.”
He was just warning those kids in the kitchen to mind their old man. To me he said, “All right, you.”
I got while the getting was good. I got right back to the porch railing because I don’t like to give a man an advantage, especially if I just hit a man and nothing happens. I got out of the way of his short swing for fear it might break something inside of me, and the next move, if he wanted me, would have to be his.
He came as expected and this time I let him do all the work. He ran into my fist. I thought my wrist would snap. I jumped over the railing. He jumped over the railing.
I was getting worried by now and feeling doubtful, which is the worst state of all. None of the clean tricks had worked, and next he would ruin me.
When he came down I fixed it so he would land on one foot. While he was busy with balance I tried for his face again but with the edge of the hand this time and none of those Queensberry locations. When he ducked away from that he ducked into my knee with a sound like a watermelon. This snapped him back up and when that angle was right I whipped across with one elbow. Benotti said, “Gaa,” or something.
We were both breathing hard but Benotti was down. We had pretty well torn up the flowerbed. He was down and I was up but I couldn’t think of a single damn thing which would sound significant. “Stay away from Louie,” I said, and walked off.
The kids and the mamma were in the kitchen. They were eating, like the old man had told them.
Chapter 4
I was over an hour late when I got to Lippit’s apartment and not much to show for it. I had managed to learn nothing new since being with Louie, except how Benotti looked through a screen door and then how he looked on the flowerbed. And that he and I were not apt to be friends. Also, I had lost a button on the front of my jacket.
I rang the bell and hoped that the party was fine, busy and not too attentive. Pat opened the door and I could hear this was a very quiet party. The first thing everybody would notice, I had lost a button.
“Hi, Jack,” she said. “You’re late.”
“Yes. Is everybody…”
“You lost a button.”
“All right.”
“Aren’t you coming in?”
She left the door open for me and walked through the little anteroom holding one arm bent on her back and her hand to the top of her zipper. The zipper ran up her midline but not very high up so as to show more of the girl. Similarly, in front. It wasn’t a formal, because her pretty legs showed, but it was one of those five to ten numbers, to cover cocktails, dinner and whatever you do at ten in the evening.
“You’ve got to help me with my zipper,” she said and walked on ahead into the front room.
“What kind of a party-” but she didn’t hear me, having passed through the door.
It was a very quiet party. When I was through the door I saw that there wasn’t any party. Just Patty and me.
“Aren’t you coming in?” she said again.
“Am I early or late?”
“You’ve got to help me with my zipper.”
“In other words, I’m that early.”
“Late. They’re gone.”
“What kind of a-”
“Jack. For heaven’s sake, I can’t stand here and hold this thing forever.”
I closed the door, leaned up against it for an effective moment, and smiled at Pat She didn’t smile back but she looked good just the same. She was holding the dress front and rear but that didn’t matter too much because Pat had a figure you look at, and you try to discount what she’s wearing.
“For heaven’s sake, Jack.”
“Patty, let me help you with that zipper.”
“No!”
We had that kind of a relationship. It always came out no.
“Walter Lippit trusts me,” I said, “my friends trust me, even I myself…”
“All right,” she said. “Just remember it goes up, not down.”
The thing was, this dress had no straps. She sat down on the big couch, her back turned to me, and I sat down behind her. Pat had brown hair with a lot of lights in it and cut short all around. This left me a fine view of her neck, shoulders, back and the whole thing looked very prettily naked.
“How come the party’s over?”
“Are you getting that zipper fixed?”
“If you’ll get your hand out of the way here, maybe…”
“All right. But I’m holding on in front, Jack St. Louis, so no shenanigans are going to do you any good anyway.”
“I look upon this the way a mechanic would.”
“All right.”
“A mechanic who loves his work.”
“Okay. You just-Jack!”
I gave her a slow kiss on the curve of her neck and she didn’t dare move because of the zipper. I was holding on to it and when she moved it went down.
“Jack, please! This just makes me shiver.”
“That’s very small potatoes compared to what it does to me.”
“Then why don’t you stop it!”
“I adore you.”
“I know what you adore.”
“That’s what I said, Patty.”
I worked on the zipper. The problem was that it wouldn’t lock but kept sliding each time she took a breath.
“What are you doing back there, Jack?”
