"No, she was sober, Henny. These Kinja drivers just have a way of stopping short and chatting any time, any place. They mean no harm, they're like heedless kids, and you learn to watch out for them. I once got knocked cold myself. But poor Iris was anxious to go to her dog, you see, and I guess she forgot." He turned to the frogman. "What'll become of the dog? I've been worrying a lot about that. I guess because Iris would worry about him, more than almost anything."
Cohn said hoarsely, "Why, I'll be glad to take Meadows, Norm. Or any one of the fellows will. That's a good dog. My God, Norman! Iris is dead."
Lionel shook his head. "That's a darn ridiculous and pointless way to die."
"I know, like Hassim," Norman said in the same matter-of-fact, weary tone. "It's kind of funny, two deaths like that in one day."
"Funny:3 It's awful," Hazel said, her face almost ugly with horror. "It isn't funny in the least."
Norman looked at her and smiled. "Is that what you think? Then we agree, Hazel. I've been surviving here on my sense of humor, and I know these deaths are ludicrous, but I can't laugh at them. I tried here, I tried hard, and it's been a real experience, but now I want to go back to New York." He turned to Henny. "Will you mind very much? If you'd rather stay on-the thing is, I don't. That isn't going to change."
She scanned his face anxiously. "Norman, are you absolutely sure? This place is a success now, and it's fun, and all that. It's everything you wanted when you came down here."
"She's right, Norm," Lionel said. "Give yourself at least a week to calm down. It's awful about Iris, sure it is, but you forget these things, I swear you do. My Lord, life is so full of them! I mean I'll hold off on Hogan's Fancy, for a week, or even longer, as far as that goes."
"There's a four o'clock plane all through the Christmas season, Henny," Norman said. "I want to get on that plane today. I've called, and there are seats. I want to leave Kinja today." He held out his hand to Lionel again. "Thirty thousand dollars, Lionel? Twenty for the bank, five still owing to the last owner, and five I put into it. Is it a deal?"
"It isn't a deal, Norm, it's a steal." Lionel was staring at the outstretched hand, eagerness and reluctance comically mingling on his bronzed face.
"I'll call it a favor if you'll take it," Norman said.
Lionel suddenly reached forward and clasped his hand. "Well, what the heck! If you honestly want it this way, Norm. This is a dream place, and I'll jump at it. I'd be crazy not to."
"Wonderful," Norman said. "Thank you. Now, Lester Atlas is the businessman in this setup. I'll explain it all to him. He'll handle the details better than I can. He'll be staying on for a while, he's got a real estate deal going."
Hazel said abruptly, "Dad, can I stay?" They all looked at her, and she blushed and stammered, adjusting the almost nonexistent bodice of her bikini. "I mean, that is, do you mind if I don't go with you today, and just come back for school next Thursday? I mean as long as I'm down here already. I mean for me this is still my vacation, Dad, and I love it here."
Cohn, his face sallow and drawn as though he were ill, said, "If it means anything, I'll look after Hazel."
Norman glanced at Henny, and something like his usual grin broke through his expression of wan shock. "No doubt. Any objections, Henny?"
"Objections? Me? Have fun, Hazel. -If we're getting out of here in two hours, Norm, I better start scrambling around and packing."
"I'll help," Norman said. "I've gotten a little handier, down here."
They talked about Hazel and Cohn while they hauled luggage from closets and started putting in clothes helter-skelter. They dwelled on the topic, as though avoiding other matters. Norman said that Cohn was bound to go into his father's import-export business, once his navy hitch was up, so that it would work out well enough, if he and Hazel were really getting serious.
Henny said, "Gosh, we may end up going to Israel to visit our grandchildren. Won't that be something?"
"As a matter of fact," Norman said ruefully, "this fellow comes along in the nick of time. I fully expect him to support you and me. Somebody's got to."
"You'll support us, never fear."
"How? My clients can't come back to me for five years, no matter what. That was the deal I made, and I have to honor it."
"Well, it's a lousy trade, I've always said so and I always will," Henny said, "but you're the best man in it, and you'll get other clients."
She was putting her jewelry away in a velvet-lined box. "Norm, I'm not trying to argue about this, but I hope you realize that New York stinks, right now. You're going to be shocked. You've forgotten. It's
Christmas time, you know. You've never seen such crowds. The traffic's at a standstill, choked solid from the Hudson to the East River, and from Fifty-ninth Street to Thirty-fourth. You can get overcome by carbon monoxide just walking down Fifth. Or if the fumes don't get you, a mugger will. They're holding people up in broad daylight. The weather is foul. Oh, the department-store lights are nice, and the tall buildings in the snow-I love the damned place, I can't help it-but nothing's changed up there. Let's understand that."
"I know," Norman said. "I know all about New York. And that's where we're going."
Henny was holding her bracelet in her hand, looking at it wryly. "Norm," she said.
"Yes?"
"Did Iris pick out this bracelet?" She smiled a little at his astonished look, and went on, "I've often wondered. It isn't your style, you know, kid. It's a thing a woman would pick out. Come on. Was it Iris?"
He stared at her and didn't answer. They were standing close to each other, and Henny was looking up at him, straight into his eyes.
"It doesn't matter," she said. "Not any more. It never really did. I love it. But was it Iris? Iris picked it out, didn't she, Norman?"
"Yes, she did," Norman said, "and she knocked Hassim's price down to half. So that's a historic bracelet. Iris and Hassim. A perfect memento of Kinja."
"You liked Iris, didn't you?"
"Yes, Henny. I liked Iris."
"A lot?"
"A lot."
The rest of the information, all there was to know, passed between them in the looks of their eyes, unspoken.
Henny tightened her lips in anger, and her eyes became misty. "Well, you know something? This time I was fooled. Completely fooled. And now she's dead."
He said with difficulty, "I love you, Henny."
"Yes, sure, you miserable bastard. Let go of me! We have to pack."
They sat on the bed all littered with clothing. He kissed her, and buried his head on her bosom; she caressed his gray thick hair. "Poor Norm." She felt his tears on the skin of her throat, and she hugged him close. "Hey! Don't do that, sweetheart. I'm sorry about this. Honest, I am. I'm even sorry for Iris." Tears were starting from her eyes, but she spoke lightly, almost gaily. "You made the place into one hell of a good hotel, Norman. You really did that, you know, honey. And nothing's lost, nothing. Isn't it good that we didn't give up the apartment, baby, after all? We can just go home."
The End
Herman Wouk - Don't Stop The Carnival Page 46
