come with me? You can stay at my place. There’s not much room, but I’m not home much to get in the way. It’s all yours for as long as you like.” She started to say something but he hushed her with his finger to her lips. “Wait a second before you answer. There are no strings attached. This is temporary — for as long as you want it. It’s nothing like Chelsea Park, but a crummy walk-up, half a single room, and…”
“Will you be quiet!” she laughed. “I’ve been trying to say yes for hours now and you seem to be trying to talk me out of it.”
“What…?”
“I don’t want anything in this world except to be happy, and I’ve been happier these weeks with you than I ever was at any time in my life before. And you can’t frighten me with your apartment, you should see where my father lives, and I was there until I was nineteen.”
Andy managed to get around the table without knocking it over and was hugging her to him. “And I have to be in the precinct in fifteen minutes,” he complained. “But wait for me here, it could be any time after six, but it’s sure to be late. We’ll have the party, and afterward we’ll move your stuff. Do you have very much?”
“It’ll all fit in three suitcases.”
“Perfect. We’ll carry it, or we can use a cab. I have to get going.” His voice changed, became almost a whisper. “Give me a kiss.” She did, warmly, sharing his feelings.
It took a heroic effort to leave, and before he went he ran through all the possible excuses he might give for being late, but he knew that none of them would satisfy the lieutenant. When he came into the lobby he was aware for the first time of a thundering, drumming noise and saw the doorman, Tab, and four of the guards crowded around the front door, looking out. They made way for him when he came over.
“Now just look at that,” Charlie said. “That should change things.”
The far side of the street was almost invisible, cut off by a falling curtain of water. It poured down on the roofs and sidewalks, and the gutters were already filled with a rushing, debris-laden torrent. Adults huddled in the doorways and halls for protection, but the children saw this as a holiday and were running and screaming, sitting on the curb and kicking their legs in the filthy stream.
“Soon as the storm sewers block up, that water’ll be a couple of feet deep. Drown a few of those kids,” Charlie said.
“Happens every time,” Newton, the building guard, agreed, nodding with morbid satisfaction. “The little ones get knocked down and no one even knows about it until after the rain.”
“Could I see you a moment, please?” Tab said, tapping Andy on the arm and walking off to one side. Andy followed him, shrugging into the sticking folds of his raincoat.
“Tomorrow’s the thirty-first,” Tab said. He reached out and held the coat while Andy struggled his hand into the sealed-together arm of the coat.
“I guess you’ll be looking for another job then,” Andy said, thinking about Shirl and the hammering rain outside.
“That’s not what I meant,” Tab said, and as he talked he turned away to look out of the window. “It’s Shirt, she’ll be leaving the apartment tomorrow, she’ll have to. I heard that the old bat sister of Mr. O’Brien’s has hired a tugtruck, she’s moving all the furniture out first thing in the morning. I wish I knew what Shirl was going to do.” His arms were folded across his chest and he brooded out at the falling rain with the solidity of a carved statue.
It’s none of his business, Andy thought. But he has known her a lot longer than I have.
“Are you married, Tab?” he asked.
Tab glanced at him out of the corners of his eyes and snorted. “Married man, happily married and three kids and I wouldn’t change if you offered me one of those TV queens with the knockers big as fire hydrants.” He looked closely at Andy, then smiled. “Nothing there for you to worry about. I just like the kid. She’s just a nice kid, that’s all. I’m worried what’s going to happen to her.”
There’s no secret, Andy thought, realizing this wasn’t the first time the question would be asked. “She’s going to be staying with me,” he said. “I’m coming over later tonight to help her move.” He glanced at Tab, who nodded seriously.
“That’s very good news. I’m glad to hear that. I hope things work out okay, I really do.”
He turned back to look at the rain and Andy looked at his watch and saw that it was almost eight and hurried out. The air was cool, cooler than the lobby, the temperature must have dropped ten degrees since the rain had begun. Maybe this was the end of the heat wave; it had certainly lasted long enough. There were already a few inches of water in the moat and the surface was dimpled and ringed by the falling drops. Before he had crossed the drawbridge to the street he felt the water run into his shoes; his pants legs were sopping and his wet hair was plastered to his head. But it was cool and he didn’t mind, and even the thought of the perpetually annoyed Grassioli didn’t seem to bother him too much.
It rained the rest of the day, which, in every other way, was like any other day. Grassioli chewed him out twice personally, and included him in a general berating of the entire squad. He investigated two holdups, and another that was combined with felonious assault that would soon be changed to manslaughter or murder, since the victim was rapidly dying from a knife wound in his chest. There was more work piled up than the squad could get through in a month, and new cases coming in all the time while they plodded away at the backlog. As he had expected he didn’t leave at six, but a phone call took the lieutenant away at nine o’clock and all of the day squad still on duty — in spite of Grassioli’s parting threats and warnings — had vanished ten minutes later. The rain was still falling, though not so heavily as before, and the air felt cool after the weeks of continuous heat. As he walked along Seventh Avenue, Andy realized that the streets were almost empty, for the first time this summer. A few people were out in the rain and there were dark forms huddled in every doorway, but the sidewalks and streets were strangely vacant. Climbing the stairs in his building was worse than usual, the people who normally crowded the stoop and curb were sitting here, some of them even lying asleep across the steps. He pushed by them and stepped over the recumbent ones, ignoring their mumbled curses. This was an indication of what it would be like in the fall unless the building owner hired bodyguards to drive the squatters out. It was scarcely worth it any more, there were so many of them, and they just came right back when the guards left.
“You’ll ruin your eyes looking at that thing all the time,” he told Sol when he came in. The old man lay on the bed propped up by pillows, watching a war film on TV. Cannon fire thundered scratchily from the speaker.
“My eyes were ruined before you were born, Mr. Wiseguy, and I can still see better than ninety-nine per cent of the fogies my age. Still working union hours, I see.”
“Find me a better job and I’ll quit,” Andy said, turning on the light in his room and digging through the bottom drawer. Sol came in and sat on the edge of the bed.
“If you’re looking for your flashlight,” he said, “you left it on the table the other day. I meant to tell you, I put it in your top drawer there, under the shirts.”
“You’re better than a mother to me.”
“Yeah, well, don’t try to borrow no money, son.”
Andy put the flash in his pocket and knew that he would have to tell Sol now. He had been putting it off and he wondered why it bothered him. After all, this room was all his, they shared food rations and meals because it made things easier, that was all. It was just a working arrangement.
“I’ve got someone coming to stay with me for a while, Sol. I’m not sure how long.”
“It’s your room, buddy-boy. Do I know the guy?”
“Not exactly. Anyway it’s not a guy—”
“Hoo-ha! That explains it all.” He snapped his fingers. “Not the chick, Big Mike’s girl, the one you been seeing?”
“Yes, that’s the girl. Her name’s Shirl.”
“A fancy name, a fancy girl,” Sol said, heaving to his feet and going toward the door. “Very fancy. Watch out you don’t get your fingers burned, buddy-boy.”
Andy started to say something but Sol was out of the room and closing the door behind himself. A little harder than necessary. He was looking at the TV again when Andy left and did not glance away from it or say anything.
It had been a long day and Andy’s feet hurt and his neck hurt and his eyes burned; he wondered why Sol was being sore. He had never met Shirl — so what did he have to complain about? Tramping crosstown through the slowly falling rain, he thought about Shirl and, without realizing it, began to whistle. He was hungry and he
