I Can Get It for You Wholesale

by Jerome Weidman

  I broke a five-dollar bill into quarters and gave her a handful.

  “Oh, no, Harry,” she said, pushing them back. “You play if you want to. I’ll just watch.”

  “Oh, come on, Ruthie,” I said, taking her hand. “Don’t be like that.”

  “No, please,” she said. “I’d rather just watch.”

  “All right, then,” I said, “Maybe you’ll bring me luck.”

  But she didn’t. I went through the five dollars, and another three, without cracking the jackpot. Somehow, aside from the ten thousand, she and money didn’t seem to go together.

  By this time the people were beginning to take their seats for the show, and I found two near the door. It was a lucky thing I’d seen the play on Broadway. Otherwise I’d never have recognized it from the way it was being murdered. The first act was lousy. And it didn’t take me long after the curtain rose on the second act to see that it wasn’t much of an improvement. I leaned close to Ruthie and whispered in her ear.

  “What do you say we get out of here and go for a walk?” I said. I took her hand and squeezed it a little. “This thing is terrible, anyway.”

  “All right,” she said.

  She was pretty good at these sweeping statements.

  We tiptoed out onto the lawn and stood for a moment, looking up at the sky.

  “It’s a lot like the night at the Stadium, isn’t it?” I said.

  “Yes,” she said.

  We walked across the lawn toward the tennis courts, swinging hands, until we reached the footpath. It was dark under the trees and I moved closer to her and put my arm around her. She rested her head against me as we walked. When we reached the little cleared space, I stopped and said, “Let’s rest a while.”

  I spread my jacket near the log and helped her down. Then I sat down next to her and we sat in the pale light that filtered through the branches and the leaves, hugging our knees and watching the stars come out over us. It was very quiet.

  “Happy?” I asked softly.

  “Uh-huh,” she said.

  I leaned back against the log and eased her to me, resting her head in the bend of my arm. She tipped her face up and I kissed her, hard, holding her to me. Her arm crept up around my neck and we remained like that for a few moments.

  This was going to be a pushover.

  I kissed her again, very softly, on the forehead, and her tense body relaxed in my arms. I put my hand on her belly and began to stroke her gently, feeling her warm flesh, soft and yet firm, through the dress and the underwear. Once she half raised her free arm, but she dropped it back on the grass. I began to fumble with the buttons of her blouse, but she didn’t stop me. The last thought I had in my head was that I wasn’t feeling the way I thought I would. I felt quiet and warm and didn’t care what happened. I liked the feel of her against me. I wanted to stay like that.

  She drew a single sharp breath—almost a gasp, but not quite—and her head rolled so that her face was toward me.

  It was pulled all tight! She looked like a kid too scared to-cry.

  It was as though I had suddenly smacked my head into something hard.

  She didn’t move in my arm. She didn’t move my hand from her blouse. But there was no mistaking the look on her face. She wasn’t enjoying it. She hated it. She had her teeth gritted, but she didn’t budge.

  It came to me all in a rush. The whole thing didn’t mean a damn to her. She’d just made up her mind to take anything I gave. I realized that what she wanted was me!

  She reached her arm up around my neck again and drew herself toward me. I responded without thinking. Still dazed, I took her to me. I guess I felt happy. There was something to her that all the others had never had. She made me feel good, like for once I had everything I needed. I could tell from the motions that the last barrier was down. If I wanted to go on, I was home. It was up to me.

  But all of a sudden I didn’t want to. Even as I held her in my arms, I began to feel sore. For Christ’s sakes, what was I gonna do, become a sucker for atmosphere? Anything money can’t buy, I don’t want. Why the hell couldn’t she play according to the rules? Why the hell couldn’t she act like other girls? Like Miss Marmelstein, for instance? Why did she have to look at you and make you feel that you were changing her whole life?

  The hell with this, I figured. I wasn’t that hard up. If I wanted to get laid, I knew where to go without having to take on responsibilities.

  I loosened my arms around her and stood up. She dropped against the tree, shivering. I smacked my pants hard to get the dirt off and reached for her hand.

  “Come on,” I said roughly.

  I swung her up into a sitting posture.

  The hell with this, I said to myself. They could keep the ten thousand dollars. I’d get the capital for my business some other way. What did I have Tootsie Maltz for?

  “Come on, come on,” I said again. I didn’t care how tough I sounded. “What do you think we’ve got, all night? It’s late. We’ve got to make a train yet.”

  She stood there, slightly dazed, smoothing her dress, her lips quivering.

  If she was going to tell me she’d never done this before, she could save her breath, I knew it better than she did.

  “For Christ’s sakes,” I said. “Shake a leg, there, will you?”

  She followed me without saying a word.

  18

  ON THE WAY INTO my private office, as I passed Miss Marmelstein at the switchboard, I said, “Get me Pulbetkal on the phone.”

  The bell rang as I hung up my hat and I picked it up and said, “Hello, Pulbetkal?”

  “Yes.”

  “Mr. Babushkin, please.”

  “Just a moment, please.”

  He got on the wire and said, “Hello?”

  “Hello, Meyer,” I said. “This is Harry Bogen. How’s everything?”

  “All right.”

  “Have a nice week end?”

  “Yeah, all right.”

  “I’ll tell you why I called, Meyer,” I said. “How about you and I and Ast having a little lunch together to-day?”

  “Let’s see,” he said slowly. “I don’t know—”

  He should have had those last three words embroidered on his linen as his motto.

  “I’ll tell you why, Meyer,” I said. “I saw Ast yesterday and he thought it wouldn’t be a bad idea if we sat down around a table and discussed the whole thing once and for all. What do you say?”

  “Well, all right,” he said.

  “Let’s see, now, Meyer,” I said. “What time is convenient for you?”

  “Oh, I don’t know, Bogen—”

  “Well, then, let’s say two o’clock. That all right with you?”

  “I guess so,” he said.

  “Well, now, look, Meyer,” I said, “let’s make this definite. Because I want to tell Ast, too, you know. Is two o’clock okay with you? Because if it isn’t, let’s make it for any time that’s convenient for you. What do you say?”

  “All right,” he said. “Two o’clock.”

  “Fine,” I said. “Two o’clock at the Beaux Arts. Ask the waiter for my table. I’ll reserve one.”

  “All right, Bogen,” he said. “Two o’clock.”

  I hung up and looked at my watch. It was a quarter after nine. I picked up the receiver again and said, “Get me Toney Frocks.”

  A few moments later I was talking to the switchboard operator at the other end.

  “Is Mr. Ast in yet?”

  “No, sir, he’s not in yet.”

  Just as I thought.

  “Well, will you take a message for him?”

  “Certainly.”

  “Please get this right. It’s very important.”

  “I’ll get it right. Don’t worry.”

  “I’m not worrying,” I said. “But get it right. Tell Mr. Ast that Mr. Bogen called him. Mr. Harry Bogen. And tell him that the appointment is for to-day at two-fifteen at the Beaux Arts with Babushkin. Got that?”

  “Right.�
�

  “Read it back to me like a good girl, will you?” I said.

  “Mr. Harry Bogen called,” she read. “Appointment is for to-day at two-fifteen at the Beaux Arts with Mr.—who?”

  “Babushkin,” I said, and spelled it for her. “Got the whole thing now?”

  “Right,” she said.

  “Fine,” I said. “Now if Mr. Ast gets that message right, just as I gave it to you, I’ll come up there personally one of these days and give you a nice box of candy.”

  “Don’t kid me, Mr. Bogen,” she said. “You sound just like a dress salesman.”

  “Stop insulting me,” I said, laughing. “Is that a way to talk to a person you’ve never met?”

  “I could talk to you differently, Mister,” she said, “but they’d pull the telephone out on us if I did.”

  “You tempt me, lady,” I said. “I think I’ll have to come up there one of these days and put you to the test.”

  “Better send your picture up first,” she said. “And don’t come without that box of candy.”

  “Okay,” I said. “When you give that message to Mr. Ast, just ask him about me. He’ll give me a good recommendation.”

  “Well, that’ll be news,” she said. “Any time that guy gives anything away, I’d like to be there just to watch.”

  “All right,” I said. “You just give him that message right, and I’ll see if I can’t arrange that little treat for you.”

  “Fine,” she said, “that’s a promise.”

  Just as I hung up, Tootsie walked in. I looked at my watch. Nine-thirty on the dot. I had him trained right.

  “Well, here I am, on time,” he said proudly, like he’d just discovered a cure for cancer.

  “Yeah,” I said, and got up to sit down on the edge of my desk.

  He hung up his coat and turned to face me.

  “Well, Harry, what’s on your mind?”

  “Nothing special,” I said, waving my hand and smiling at him. “Just things in general, that’s all.”

  “I mean, what was all the excitement about on Friday? You told me to be here this morning nine-thirty, no?”

  “That’s true,” I said. “I did.”

  “Listen, Harry. You starting that kidding stuff again? You told me Friday I should be here nine-thirty this morning, and I’m here. Now what’s all the excitement about?”

  “Excitement?” I said. “What excitement? Why, I’m as calm and cool as—”

  He shook his head and pulled out his cigarettes.

  “Oh, all right, go ahead, go ahead,” he said, trying to sound disgusted. “I see already you won’t be ready to talk until you’ve had a chance to be a wise guy for a few minutes. Okay, go ahead, go ahead. I know you by this time, Harry.”

  That’s what he thought.

  “Okay,” I laughed and got up to slap his shoulder. “Here,” I said, pushing him into a chair, “sit down.” I took a seat facing him.

  “All right,” he said. “So now I’m sitting.”

  “Good,” I said, and then, “Tell me, Tootsie, how do you like this delivery business of ours?”

  For a few seconds he stared at me. Then he said, “Jesus Christ alive! Did you haul me back here this morning just so’s you could ask me that?”

  “Sure,” I said. “Why not?”

  “Say, are you crazy or something?”

  “No. Why?”

  He rubbed his hand over his face and then through his hair and then squeezed his lips together and leaned forward in his chair.

  “Listen, Harry,” he began.

  Sorry, but that’s where I draw the line.

  “You listen to me, Tootsie,” I said. Not tough. Just friendly. Dutch uncley, sort of. “What’s wrong with me asking a question like that? We’re partners, aren’t we? Can’t I ask you even how you like the business we’re in together? Can’t we have a little executive conference once in a while, without you thinking I’m crazy or something?”

  He leaned back and threw out his hands.

  “I don’t know,” he said to the ceiling. “Maybe I’m the one that’s crazy?”

  Where did he get that maybe stuff?

  “I’m not kidding, Tootsie. I just asked you a simple question, that’s all. How do you like the business?”

  He hesitated a moment, still looking at me as though he couldn’t make up his mind whether he was being taken for a ride or not, and said, “It’s okay. I like it.”

  “That’s all?” I said. “You just like it?”

  “Well, hell, Harry, I mean what can a guy say to—?”

  I put on a long face.

  “I’m glad you like it, Tootsie. No kidding either. I mean that. I’m really glad you like it.”

  “What’s the matter? Anything wrong?”

  “No. Not exactly,” I said; and then, brightly, “You saving any money out of this, Tootsie?”

  He shrugged.

  “Well, sure,” he said, “I been saving.”

  “That’s good,” I said. “Remember what I told you when we started. There’s no sense in pissing it all away. I’m not saying you have to go around being a mizzo or anything like that. But a guy who saves his money is no dope, let me tell you.”

  “Well, I been saving. I’ve saved all right.”

  “Yeah? How much?”

  “Oh—I don’t know.” He waved his hand. “A coupla thousand. You know.”

  That was just the point. I didn’t know.

  “Don’t you know exactly?” I said. “For crying out loud, Tootsie, the least a guy can do is keep track of how much money he’s got. Don’t you know how much you—?”

  “Sure I do.” He dug into his pocket and pulled out a bankbook. “Here. I got—thirty-seven, thirty-seven-fif—oh, about thirty-seven hundred.”

  “Not bad,” I said. “Not bad at all.”

  He put the book down and looked at me.

  “Say, what is this, Harry, anyway?”

  “I’ll tell you, Tootsie,” I said quietly. “I just came from the doctor.”

  “What’s the matter?” he said. “You sick or something?”

  I sighed and looked sad. It’s easy to do.

  “That’s about the size of it, I guess,” I said.

  “That’s tough all right. What is it?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. Complications and things like that. You know. You can’t get anything straight out of those doctors. You know how they are.”

  “Gee, that’s tough, Harry.”

  Was it?

  “Yeah, Tootsie. I’m not as healthy as I look.”

  He leaned forward in his chair and frowned a bit.

  “Well, what did he say?”

  “I have to lay off for a while. He said I have to knock off for a while and take a good rest.”

  He leaned back and his face relaxed.

  “Well, that’s easy,” he said. “You can go and—”

  “I’m afraid it’s not as easy as it sounds, Tootsie. He said I have to knock off. Not just for a couple of weeks or so, either.”

  “That’s all right, Harry. Why don’t you go away and just—?”

  I shook my head.

  “No, Tootsie. It’s not all right. He said I have to go away for over a year. Maybe even more.”

  His mouth hung open, like a basketball goal. I wanted to crumple up a blotter and toss it in, to see if I could shoot the two points.

  “A whole year?”

  I shook my head.

  “Maybe even more,” I said.

  “Gee whiz.”

  I got up and scratched my head.

  “That’s what I wanted to see you about,” I said, talking without looking at him, moving around his chair slowly. “A guy can’t just leave a business like this for over a year and then expect to come back like nothing happened. It wouldn’t be fair. It wouldn’t be fair to you, Tootsie.”

  “Aah, hell, Harry,” he said. “You and I, we went into this thing together—”

  “I know what you’re gonna say, Tootsie, a
nd don’t you think for one minute I don’t appreciate it. I want you to know I appreciate it all right, and I think it’s damn nice of you, too. But, well, you know how it is, Tootsie. A guy can’t do those things. It sounds all right in the movies, but it just doesn’t work out.”

  He didn’t say anything for a few moments, just chewed his lip. He was so fat that if he ever got shipwrecked, he could keep himself alive for quite some time by doing that. Then he said, “What are you gonna do?”

  “Oh, I don’t know, Tootsie. But you don’t have to worry about me. I’ve got a few thousand saved up. I’ll just go away some place, maybe Europe or some place like that, you know, and then, maybe when I come back—but hell, I’m not worrying about that now. My health comes first.”

  “Sure,” he said.

  “That’s one of the reasons why I asked you if you saved any of your money, Tootsie,” I said. “I want to sell you my interest in the business.”

  His mouth dropped down to his third rib. Once more and I wouldn’t have to use a crumpled blotter. A regular basketball could get in.

  “You wanna sell me your interest in the business?” he said.

  “Sure,” I said, turning quickly to face him. “Why not? You and I started this thing together, didn’t we? It’s yours just as much as it’s mine, isn’t it? Why should I go ahead and sell out to a stranger? Would that be fair to you? Why, you can run this whole shooting match by yourself. If you need any help in the office, if you need anybody to help you with the assignments or handling the boys or anything like that, hell, you can hire a guy for thirty or forty bucks a week, and you can keep the whole profits for yourself. You wouldn’t have to go around splitting with anybody. You’d be your own boss. Just you and nobody else. The whole works would be yours. Look at what you saved in the few months we’ve been in the business. Thirty-seven hundred. Almost four thousand bucks. Remember, Tootsie, up to now we’ve been splitting twenty-five and seventy-five, and you’ve been on the short end. But like this, from now on, when I’m gone, you’ll be getting the whole damn thing, one hundred per cent.”

  And I wasn’t just batting them out to him, either. He’d be getting one hundred per cent, all right. The only trouble with that was that in another month or so, with the way the competition would begin to roll in, that one hundred per cent would be less than the twenty-five he was getting now.