Song of the Silent Snow

by Hubert Selby

  They continued talking easily, chuckling, smiling, and laughing their way from one subject to another, sometimes taking time out from the amusements to discuss something serious, each one finding they had respect and interest in what the other was saying, feeling uninhibited and speaking honestly about what they believed, enjoying both the smiles and the frowns of the conversation. Then Rita glanced at her watch, Wow, look at the time. No wonder Im feeling tired.

  Harry looked at his, Yeah, youre right. Nothing like enjoying yourself to make time fly.

  Rita nodded, then smiled. Would you like to spend the night?

  Harrys smile was wide and warm, Cant think of anything I would rather do. They got up. But you had better lead the way, I dont want to go out that back door.

  They laughed.

  Almost immediately after getting into bed Harry put his arms around Rita and held her close to him. His mind was incredibly and abnormally quiet and unquestioning. He was absorbed by her and how she felt in his arms… She felt like her smile. They made love and it was completely satisfying for both of them and when they finished they lay on their sides, arms around each other, smiling and kissing, glowing…

  until

  they drifted into the softness of sleep.

  Harry was the first to awaken in the morning. He looked at Rita for many moments, then gently got out of the bed so as not to awaken her. He had showered and dressed and was in the kitchen heating the coffee by the time she awoke. Hi.

  Hi. Want a cup of coffee?

  Rita shook her head, Not right now. Think I’ll bathe first. Isnt that kind of strong? Wouldnt you rather have fresh coffee?

  No. Puts hair on your chest. He smiled and looked at her and wanted to touch her and lean over and kiss her but for some reason the sunlight pouring into the kitchen made it impossible. He tried to push himself forward, but was immobile. Have a good sleep?

  She burst into a smile, O wonderful—she suddenly yawned -how do you like that? Isnt that something—she laughed—but I did. And I feel terrific.

  Good.

  You like lox and bagels and that sort of Sunday breakfast tradition?

  Sure.

  Theres a good Jewish deli on the corner. You could get some while I bathe and I’ll make us some scrambled eggs with lox.

  Great. I ‘ll be careful opening the door.

  She chuckled and Harry watched her as she walked to the bathroom.

  The deli was crowded and by the time Harry got back Rita was in the kitchen. Here you are. I got a Times too. I figured if we’re going to be traditional then we should be traditional. They chuckled and Harry settled himself at the table with a cup of coffee and the Times while Rita started making breakfast.

  When they finished eating Harry leaned back and sighed, My God, that’ll stick with me all day.

  She smiled at him, Im glad you liked it. Im afraid I cant coast on it. I have to have dinner with my folks. She glanced at her watch, As a matter of fact I have to leave soon.

  Thats too bad… Well, I guess I had better get going then.

  If you wait a few minutes we can walk to the subway together.

  Fine. Harry smiled, Why dont you take the magazine section. Something to read on the train.

  Harry had an arm around Rita as they walked along the street, their bodies moving smoothly together. When they got to the subway they stopped. I’ll leave you here. Think I’ll take a bus.

  Rita smiled up at Harry. I had a wonderful time last night. It was the nicest night Ive spent in a long time. Her face was glowing.

  Yeah, me too. I wish it was an old movie. We could play it again anytime we wanted to. Harry chuckled.

  That would be nice. I always was a softie for happy endings. O, you didnt give me your number. She looked through her pocket book, I have nothing to write on.

  Thats alright. I’ll give you a call tonight.

  About nine.

  Fine. O here, dont forget the paper. He handed her the magazine section.

  Thanks.

  He kissed her and she felt soft and vibrant and when he separated his lips from hers he felt like sighing. Have a nice visit.

  I will. Bye.

  Harry watched her go down the steps, then turned and started walking to the bus stop.

  When he got home Harry stretched out in a chair and without consciously directing his thoughts he started reviewing the night, and the morning, and he felt excited all over again. She was as nice as she was beautiful, and the most exciting woman he had ever met. He experienced again how she felt next to him, the softness of her skin under his hands, the warmth that came from her body…

  and the way she smiled all over from somewhere deep within her. And she was so much fun to sit and talk with. It was incredible… And he had not felt awkward, not for a minute. He had never had an experience like that before in his life. There was always a little awkwardness, a little stammering or forcing of conversations, but none of those first-date things had happened. The entire evening, and morning, seemed to simply flow along some natural, divinely appointed course. It almost seemed unreal. God what a night… What a woman… What a joy. Yeah, what a joy. If its like that the first night, what will it be like later???? Things usually get better after people get to know each other, but how could it get better? It didnt seem possible. Everything was so perfect he did not see how it could be improved. Well, we’ll see. Give her a call tonight and then see what happens… Harry suddenly chuckled aloud as he remembered the long nights in Jack Dempseys trying to get up the courage to ask him the favor. How could such a simple thing have been so difficult? It doesnt seem possible. Not now. And he was so great. Its absolutely incredible. The whole week just to ask one little favor. And the whole night could have been ruined just by that. Who knows what would have happened if I hadnt finally asked him???? Might have been just another date. She sure was impressed by that reception he gave me. Yeah… she was really impressed. That probably was responsible for the whole evening. Might have an entirely different opinion of me if I hadnt arranged that. If she didnt think I was a friend of Jack Dempseys she might not have even wanted me to call tonight. Might have spent the night here instead of with her… But I did tell her we werent really close friends. I didnt lay it on too heavy. Just a little poetic license. Its really no…

  Yeah…

  Maybe she isnt going to her parents. Maybe she just wanted to have me leave. That business about my phone number could be just a game. If she really wanted it why didnt she ask for it before? Why did she wait until we were at the subway? There was plenty of time before. And what did she mean about happy endings? Ending what? If she doesnt want to see me again why doesnt she just say so????

  So I dont really know Jack Dempsey. Thats no reason to play games. She didnt have to go through the charade of visiting her parents just so I wouldnt be hanging around all day. I would have left…

  But the whole night wasnt really built on a lie… not really. Its not a real lie. Not like telling someone youre going to visit your parents just to get rid of them. Thats a lie. And telling them you like them when you dont. Thats a lie. And asking them for your phone number when you dont really want it. Thats a lie. The whole evening… night……..and morning…

  a lie.

  Just some-

  thing to torture the loneliness that tries to stay hidden in every heart….

  But maybe she will be there at ni—no… no. She wont… Maybe… Maybe she will

  But whats the point? It wont make any difference. You know what it will be like. The embarrassment… Why bother? There’ll just be another story… another lie. Theres no point in calling. Its always the same…

  Its all over.

  Double Feature

  There was no tangible reason for feeling so great (unless you believe in astrology, but he didnt and wasnt aware of the positions of the constellations or the fullness of the moon) nor was it entirely due to it being Friday with two workless days ahead and 3 leisurely nights… though this, along with the
warm weather of early summer, were partially responsible; but he wasnt attempting to define the reasons for this feeling. It was just there. That was enough. You dont plan it, you just enjoy it; relax and float along with it and laugh. Yeah, thats the secret, and as long as you control it youve got it made, but try to drag it by the arm and you’ll kill it…

  No, he’d play it cool. Just go up to the Avenue and meet Chubby and maybe go to a show and then CHARLIES and listen to the group blow—have a few beers and… who knows? When you feel like this you dont have to go around looking for kicks.

  He walked up 69th Street, smiling, to 4th Avenue and met Chubby in front of the pool room. Whatta ya say Chub, poking his arm and dancing on his toes, sparring. Whats with you Harry, been eatin happy pills? laughing and waving his left in Harrys face. Yeah. Anybody inside? No. A couple of the guys are in Phils talking about the game this afternoon. I bet Phils havin a ball. The Giants really clobbered the Dodgers today. A ball? Hes been roarin since the game ended. Yeah, I bet.

  They laughed and Chubby took out a packet of cigarettes, put one in his mouth and held the match until Harry had gotten one out of his pack and lighted it. Whatta ya feel like doin tonight, Chub? I dont know. Kinda early to do anything now. Feel like taking in a show? I dont know. Whats playin? Theres a musical at the Bay Ridge. I saw the comin attractions last week. It looked pretty good. O yeah, a couple of the guys saw it and said it was great. Jimmy went ape in one scene. A redhead does a real wild dance. Sounds good. How about takin it in? O.K.

  They left the avenue and walked down 69th Street, crossing to the shady side, to 3rd Avenue. Whos going to be at CHARLIES tonight? Im not sure. I met Mitch, the bass player, a little while ago and he said Buck Clayton might sit in tonight. No kiddin? Should be a good session then. Should be. Hes usually pretty cool. He said that kid who blew trombone last week might be there too. Great. He lets it get away from him sometimes, like hes trying to find somethin, but when he doesnt go too far out hes good. He should be real great someday. Remember that solo he took on A Small Hotel? Yeah. Man! He did some fine stuff on that. Never went crazy but blew it cool, real cool. He went way out on How High the Moon though. Yeah, he lost control of his horn on that one; Willie was poundin out the chords like crazy tryin to help him back. Hes good though. I hope he shows up tonight. I’d like to dig him and Clayton together. I guess he will. He probably gets kicks from playing with good boys like that. Yeah, I guess he does.

  They turned left on 3rd Avenue and walked toward the movie. A block away Chubby suggested they stop in for a beer first. They went in to the bar on the corner, had 2 beers and a bag of peanuts, then left and continued toward the movie. A few minutes later Harry grabbed Chubby by the arm and suggested they bring a little something to drink with them. You know, just a pint of wine. For kicks. Chubby smiled, shrugged his shoulders. Why not?

  They were both laughing as they bought the wine and a package of paper cups.We have to play it cool man. We dont want to look like winos. Chubby put the bottle in his hip pocket and walked in front of Harry so he could make sure it was hidden by his jacket.

  The nearer they got to the box office the weirder going to the movies with a bottle of wine seemed. Even a little exciting. They tried to stiffen their faces in a natural expression and Chubby stood to one side as Harry bought the tickets, then walked behind him through the lobby, looking away as the man took their tickets. They climbed the stairs to the balcony two at a time before relaxing; then started looking for seats.

  They found two empty seats on the aisle in the last row and sat quietly for a few moments. Then Harry told Chubby to open the package of cups. He started ripping the cellophane off slowly, the ripping sounding louder and louder. He stopped for a second, then ripped the remaining cellophane off at once and sat back and waited a moment before handing the bottle to Harry. He took the bottle from Chubby and immediately bent behind the seat in front as Chubby looked around, both of them giggling. Harry finally opened the bottle and Chubby passed two cups to him and he filled them, recapped the bottle and put it under the seat, then sat up. They forced their shoulders down, looked at the screen and sipped their drinks.

  Most of the people in the audience were laughing and commenting to each other, but Harry and Chubby laughed as quietly as possible, keeping their comments to a whisper. When their cups were empty Harry ducked behind the seat again, taking fewer precautions, and refilled them. When he filled the cups for the third time the only precaution he took was not to spill any wine. They sat holding their cups loosely, resting them on the seat between their legs; lifting them while still watching the screen and drinking; leaning over toward each other to whisper a comment as a seminaked woman walked across the wide panoramic screen… and laughing. Finishing their 3rd cup they were relaxed and laughing as loudly as the others, but with less provocation, occasionally laughing while drinking, wine spluttering and dribbling down their chins. The woman continued walking and they sat choking, coughing, trying not to make too much noise and not to spill too much wine.

  When Harry poured the last of the wine he put the bottle back with a clink and he and Chubby toasted each other and sipped slowly. When their cups were empty they dropped them to the floor and sat for a few minutes smoking, watching the movie and giggling. Then Chubby said he was getting thirsty. Yeah, me too. How about another bottle? Why not. Think theyll letya back in? Sure. I’ll tellem I want somethin in my car. Hey, how about gettin somethin ta nibble on? You know some popcorn or chips. Maybe youd like some ordurves already.

  Harry started to laugh, then half closed his eyes after Chubby left and stared at the beam of light from the projector, watching the vague smoke drift toward it and then brighten, whirl and float through the ray… drifting deeper into his mood. He wasnt drunk, though he was a little lightheaded, as was Chubby, from drinking the wine rapidly in the warm theater, but he had a fine glow and was relaxed enough not to think or be concerned with just how relaxed he was. He was going to laugh and have one hellofagoodtime. There was no danger of killing the mood either by losing it or dragging it. He just drifted between the light, the smoke, the screen, one of the girls at work, CHARLIES, Clayton and the trombonist… but mainly sinking further and further into his contentment, his mind almost empty (forcing a silly grin of introspection), knowing this was going to be a good night, a good weekend. Not crazy wild. Just a lot of laughs…

  Harry drifted, oblivious of place or time… Then Chubby appeared, sat down and took 2 bottles from his pockets and handed them to him. Thought I’d get an extra one. You know, just in case.

  Harry laughed and took the bottles, put one under the seat, opened the other and filled a cup. While he was pouring Chubby took a full loaf hero sandwich from under his jacket. Harry didnt notice it, being too busy opening the bottle and pouring the wine, so it was just a blur seen from the side of his eye. When he turned to give Chubby his drink, Chubby was holding the sandwich horizontally, nibbling at the liverwurst hanging over the sides, humming claire de lune and waving his fingers like a harmonica player. The people around them were nudging each other and laughing, some tapping those in front of them and pointing to Chubby as he played the hero sandwich, Harry staring at him, holding a cup of wine. The laughter and craning of necks increased until almost that entire section of the balcony was ignoring the screen and watching the playing of the sandwich. Chubby turned to Harry and rolled his eyes and fluttered his lids, still fanning the sandwich and moving his shoulders to the music. Harry, his hand holding the cup of wine still extended toward Chubby, stared, chuckled, then laughed, the wine spilling over his hand and dripping on Chubbys pants, his hand slowly falling and the cup tilting until the wine poured out in a steady stream and splashed on their feet, their laughter growing louder, people turning in their seats, looking and laughing as Harry laughed and Chubby laughed, still playing the hero sandwich (his laughter, muffled by the sandwich, sounding weird), slowly bending over, sinking further down and almost about to double into a ball and roll do
wn the stairs with a steady thump bump, thump bump, still laughing and playing the hero sandwich, when Harry dropped the cup, plop, fell on Chubbys shoulder and put his arms around him forcing the sandwich from his mouth, burying his face in Chubbys jacket.

  They remained embraced until their laughter stopped, not from determination but exhaustion, then parted and sat back in their seats with a series of soft sighs. Slowly the attention of the others returned to the screen and the two sat, silent (except for an occasional involuntary snort), wanting and not wanting to look at each other, sitting slightly angled from each other (the sandwich resting on Chubbys lap), covering their faces with their hands…

  Harry breathed deeply and without looking at Chubby told him to put that damn thing away. Chubby mumbled something, put the sandwich up his sleeve, said, Its o.k. now, and they turned slowly in their seats until they were once more facing the screen. Harry reached under the seat for the bottle and filled 2 cups, handed one to Chubby. They spoke to each other only after emptying their cups and refilling them. The hollowness created by their laughter was filled by the wine and as the warmth of relaxation increased they leaned towards each other and once more were whispering comments and laughing.

  They drank more rapidly (the bottle being replaced with a clink), their heads barely apart, their elbows on the arm rest between their seats, lifting their drinking arms and tilting their heads back… each a reflection of the other. And, as they drank, their whispering, giggling and laughter grew louder, yet still not boisterous or annoying.

  From making comments upon the action on the screen they progressed to prediction and then to direction; urging the girl-shy male star to kiss her, she wont bite… tittering, laughing, reaching for the bottle (clink) watching the wine being poured into the cup (plop, plop, plop), putting the bottle back (clink) -whatzamatta with that guy, is he nutsor somethin? If I had a broad like that runnin afta me I’d—swaying, wine sloshing in the cups; laughing, swallowing, bubbling, choking, wine splashing on their noses, dribbling down their chins, dark spots blotted by pants and shirts—reaching (clink), only a few drops left, watching the last drop plop into the cup, still one left (clink); two empties; good show, eh Chubb? Cups refilled (getting soft and soggy, dented, dont squeeze too tight, please dont squeeza the banana—held by the bottom in the palm of the hand); wheres the otha ones—all gone—no more haha—no (clink) more (bottle resting on his lap)—come fill me with the old familiar juice -HUH HUH—she slinks, semidressed, toward him, hair over the side of her face, hips liquid, rubs his cheeks then pushes her hands thru his hair, down his neck and back, sways in front of him, all virtues and charms (almost all) displayed, the voice throaty, begging… he asks her what she wants—OOOOO whattza matta? ya crazy? HAHAHA–He’d betta go ta Denmark—HUH HUH (cups squashed and dropped to the floor, the bottle passed back and forth), drinking in large gulps, small drops trickling down their chins and adams apples—she forces him back onto a couch, bends over him, gives him the look and kisses him… he kicks and waves his arms—I toldja they was all fruits in Hollywood—the struggling stopped, soft music -dont fight it, enjoy it HAHAHA—holding the bottle up, not much left, get somemore—OOOO please dont squeeza the banana; only a drink left; save me some, a gulp, ahhh… here rubbing his mouth with the back of his hand, empty bottle passed back (clink)—no more; all gone, three dead soldiers—HUH-HUHHUH -hey daddy, I wanna ice cream. Shaddup an drink ya beer. HEHEHE, that guys nuts—HUHHUHHUH, I cant HAHAHA—whatz he HEHEHEHE—the screen wavering and blurred… images tumbling about… HAHEHHUHHOHO-HEHHUHHHO…