of lying and signifying to function as literature.

Then he said what he said about documentation and implication. Look, man, he said as he stood up and moved over to the table where the drinks were, obviously you want the readers to be wherever whatever the action is. Because you want them to witness whatever you want them to witness from a specific physical point of view and listening post. But as important as that is, basically what you are really working for is not just precise or realistic documentation but implication. Man, the very act of writing a story is always a matter of a certain amount of lying and signifying. Think of camera angles, microphones, and the sound track in movies. You don’t just describe the people, the places, the weather, and least of all the actions exactly as they were. You reshape whatever has to be reshaped to make the point you try to get across to the reader.

He interrupted the reading only long enough to make one bar-sized shaker of what amounted to one and a half martinis each, and then he spent the rest of the time reading one passage after another without comment, skipping forward, but not in strict chronological order with some sequences being flashbacks to incidents that he had intentionally skipped over and others that suggested a larger context but could stand alone as short stories (which always exist in a larger continuing frame anyway).

When he finished the last selection I still did not know what the central story line was, but I did not ask him about it because I knew that the main thing he wanted from me was my opinion of the relative suitability of each section for magazine publication. So I said what I said about him being into something special both as subject matter and in terms of tone and rhythm. I said, The only problem that the editors would have would be the choice between titillating sequences and self-contained short-story-like episodes. I said, Man, you might have given up the trumpet, but damn, if you gave up composition.

And he said, Well, we shall see. There are two publications involved. One is a slick paper monthly and the other is a literary quarterly. I’m not naming names, but I’ll let you know how it turns out.

Then while he was jotting down notes as he put the manuscript pages back in place, I took another quick survey of his bookshelf and when he brought my hat and coat and opened the door, he said, Don’t forget to give old Rolly a call and let him know you’re up here at least for the time being. And I said I would, and the very next day I did, and I also called Daddy Royal.

IX

So here she is at last, Royal Highness said, as Eunice and I stepped out of the elevator and headed toward where he stood waiting outside the open door to his apartment that evening. I had told him about us when I had called him on the phone shortly after we arrived in New York back in September. And I had also called him from time to time just to keep in touch, but this was our first trip up to Sugar Hill together.

Yeah, here she is at last. So this is the one that’s really the one, hey, young soldier, he said, putting his left arm around her shoulder as he slapped right palms with me and said, Miss Lady. Hey, what you talkin’ ’bout, young fellow? Yes, indeed. But now look here, Miss Lady. They all told me you were good-looking but ain’t none of them said a word about your being this good-looking. And with the class to go with it. Well, I guess they did mention something about class. But I guess you had them all tongue-tied.

Then he said, Now see there, that’s exactly what I’m talking about. Just look at that brush-off she just gave me disguised as a blush. You’re something else, Miss Lady. Because, you see, I know good and well you heard this old jive line before, but this is the first time you’ve heard it from the source. And that goes for this, too, he then said, and put both hands on her shoulder and gave her four mock ceremonial kisses, and still holding her shoulders at arm’s length said, A smack for all four cheeks, Miss Lady—if you get the implication of my latter clause.

Man, he then said as he hooked arms and guided us into his living room, you got yourself some fine people here, young soldier. So you all come on in this house and make yourself at home. The rest of us will be out in a little while. I told them to go on and finish what they were doing back there and let me have you all to myself for a little while.

Then when we helped ourselves at the bar and took our seats at the end of the couch nearest his favorite overstuffed chair, he said, You know something, young soldier? I’m still getting great reports about how you handled yourself out there when you were on the road with the band.

It just keeps coming up, he said. Time and again. Even the Silent Partner dropped in a good word about you. Hell, I forget what the hell we were talking about, but at some point there he was asking me when I had heard from you and saying what he said about how everybody was betting on the schoolboy without even knowing or even speculating about any profession or line of work in particular. He just struck everybody in that crew as somebody special, Miss Lady, a young fellow with a very high-class education that didn’t put on no airs at all and could pick up on new things like he was born knowing.

Hell, they were not talking about getting along with him as a very young newcomer on

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