—No but didn’t you see this Mrs Joubert? about this here tender for Diamond Cable like taking over education and all? See I thought I’d bring it to class and . . .
—Oh yes I didn’t see it, yes do bring it in.
—And this here Alaska paper I’m going to hand it in like even if I have to write the whole thing over, you said you needed a dime before?
—No I really need change enough to call Washington but . . .
—What Washington D C? It’s like station to station it’s eighty cents the first three minutes then each minute after is twen, you going to talk more than three minutes?
—Well I don’t really . . .
—Here fifty, seventy-five . . . the coins came moist,—eighty or if you want to hang around like only twenty more minutes Mrs Joubert see then it goes down to fifty-five cents for . . .
—No no I can’t wait really, thank you . . . she sank into the booth, drew her legs away from his sudden breath retrieving Hedging Highlights underfoot and then pulled closed the doors and reached up dialing, sniffed, shook the doors half opened again and reached up, dropping coins.—Yes hello? I’m calling Mister Moncrieff yes will you say it’s his daughter please . . .? His . . . yes his daughter Emily yes . . . Yes I will . . . she waited, and then brought the doors almost closed on him again out there sweeping together papers, brochures, envelopes,—hello Daddy . . .? Oh . . . oh I’m sorry, I thought . . . Yes I see well, well how long do you think the meeting may last? It’s something quite urgent and . . . Oh, no then I’m afraid not . . . No I’m, I’m afraid not no. Thank you . . . and she sat staring at Dialing Instructions where a knifeblade’s hasty scars spelled fuck, her handkerchief up and then her eyes caught by movement stopped in the angle of the panel glass fixed patiently intent down the top of her dress, cracked the doors opened and breathed.
—Hi did you get your party okay?
—No but, it’s all right but I’m afraid I owe you . . .
—No that’s okay but like don’t you think it’s funny where they always call somebody your party like they’re this here party? The armload came up and shifted in a turn,—you coming out this way Mrs Joubert?
—No I, yes I might as well, get a train I think there’s one . . .
—See because there’s these here couple of things I needed to ask you, he came on half a step behind—like are we going to get to futures soon?
—Get to what?
—In class I mean like where you buy these different futures like potatoes and bellies and copper and all see what I wondered is . . .
—Oh, no I don’t think there’s time to get into anything as complicated as . . .
—No but see it’s real interesting Mrs Joubert, like now we already learned about the stock market and all with this here our share of America? See so now if we bought some of these futures like if we got in these here bellies and learned the . . .
—Got in what bellies what on earth are you talking about.
—These here frozen pork ones see if we got in these futures of them and learned like about hedging and how you get to help out these here fanners and all, see you just send away for these here free newsletters which wait could you just hold this stuff for me a second . . .
—And we can’t really ask the class to bring their own money in again to buy . . .
—No but that’s what’s neat see you don’t hardly put up much cash anyway because like you buy on this fifteen or like even five percent margin so it’s the broker who’s putting up the wait a second here it is see? Like if we got this newsletter we could learn all these here terms because the thing is sometimes it’s like kind of hard to understand like where it says here we are friendly to bellies for the long term and would begin cautious scale-down purchases in the low thirty . . .
—No I really don’t think we can start anything as . . .
—Okay but wait then see I got this here little booklet which I just want to ask you, see right here under Bank Financing? where it says there is this opportunity to increase the turnover in a firm’s capital with the leverage provided through bank loans on hedged commodities? I mean does that mean you really have these here commodities like all these bellies someplace? or like can you hedge in these futures of them and then get some bank to . . .
—Look please will you take this J R? She held the armload cradled where he’d settled to it like a portable writing desk, even rested an elbow on it—I really don’t understand all this that well myself, you’ll just have to ask Mister Glan, ask someone who . . .
—What you were going to say Glancy? He got both arms around the load,—I bet nobody’s asking him something now boy did you hear about this here brand new Cadillac he . . .
—Yes it was simply terrible, there are so many terrible . . .
—I know like it was this big El Dorado, he came on half a step behind down the corridor—which you know they have this thing where you sit in there and the whole car goes like up and down to stay level the same heighth off the ground even if you’re real fat like Glancy? and this thing at night where your bright lights go down by theirself when this other car’s coming? I mean there’s so much stuff . . . he got the half step ahead,—like did you ever think Mrs Joubert everything you see someplace there’s this millionaire for it?
—Is that all you think about!
—Sure I mean look back there . . . he’d blocked the door by way of opening it for her with his back against it, bringing the wind in,—like right now someplace there’s this water fountain millionaire and this locker millionaire and this here lightbulb one I mean like even the lightbulb there’s this glass millionaire and this one off where you screw the, oh wait wait a second . . . Down that bright empty corridor the telephone rang in the booth,—could you just wait up for me a second Mrs Joubert . . .? But she reached past him to push the door leaving him off balance there a foot in each direction where the wind brought in a wrapper from a Three Musketeers candy bar—see I just, just, okay wait a second I’m coming . . . and he ran up against her on the steps.
—Just stop for a minute! she caught an arm round his shoulders,—just stop and look . . .!
—What? at what . . .
—At the evening, the sky, the wind, don’t you ever just stop sometimes and look? and listen?
—Well I, I mean sure, I . . . He stood stiff in her embrace, his armload holding her off between them,—like it’s, I mean it’s like getting dark real early now . . .
—Yes look up at the sky look at it! Is there a millionaire for that? But her own eyes dropped to her hand on his shoulder as though to confirm a shock at the slightness of what she held there.—Does there have to be a millionaire for everything?
—Sure well, well no I mean like . . .
—And over there look, look. The moon coming up, don’t you see it? Doesn’t it make . . .
—What over there? He ducked away as though for a better view,—No but that’s, Mrs Joubert? that’s just, wait . . .
—No never mind, it doesn’t matter . . .
—No but Mrs Joubert . . .? The wind blew her from behind, seemed to blow him after her whirling the leaves up before them toward the station’s lights,—like I just wanted to ask you are we going on another field trip soon?
—To a bakery yes, she said over a shoulder,—I’m sure there’s a millionaire for that too.
—No but wait I meant like some museum . . . he was up beside her again,—like that one at New York where we . . .
—The Metropolitan, no the home economics class is going in to see their costume collection but you wouldn’t . . .
—Like do you think I could go along? I mean it sounds . . .
—You?
—Sure I mean it sounds real interesting, like it’s all these olden time clothes and all? I mean that sounds real in . . .
—No don’t be silly no you’re not in the sewing, is that the train?
—What those lights? No that’s over on the highway hey Mrs Joubert? did you ever hear of the Museu
m of Natural History?
—Of course but . . .
—See well anyways I was thinking like we’ve been having about Alaska and these here Eskimos and all? he came on near a trot beside her,—and like you know in our book Our Wilderness Friend? there’s this picture of this exhibit they have in there of these stuffed Eskimos? see so I was thinking . . .
—What?
—Of these here, wait you’re right in a puddle . . .
—What did you say? exhibit of what?
—Like didn’t you see that picture? These here stuffed Eskimos that shows how they live and all these here handicrafts they, what’s the matter . . .
—Do you really think that? can you, God can you think that? That they’d take Eskimos and, and . . .
—Sure well no I mean I, I mean like these other pictures they have in there of these exhibits that look real alive like these here stuffed wolves and all I . . . His voice was gone, buried in her breast with his burning cheek where she held him hard for the moment it took him to twist free enough to gasp—holy . . . to drop from reach to one knee wiping his free hand across his face,—what’s the matter anyhow I mean why does everybody always . . . and he broke off for the sound of the train above,—but hey? he called after her.
—No goodbye goodnight I can’t wait . . .
—No go ahead Mrs Joubert I just got these new shoelaces which keep untying but hey? remember that there field trip that little guy with those glasses? that kept bossing everybody around?
—Yes Mister Davidoff, she called back, tripped against the curb turned to him caught cringing there in a glancing blow of headlights as though about to spring,—that was Mister Davidoff . . . she caught herself at the foot of the concrete steps and then came up them to the top but one, and stopped there dead; caught breath sharply,—oh . . .! breaking up into the wind, into a run where the train groaned down the platform,—Jack . . .?
He’d stopped out of reach, newspapers disheveled under one arm wrapped outside with the Turf Guide where wind billowed the jacket so his shoulders appeared to rise turning toward her,—Amy!
—Oh no you’re . . . and she stopped.—No . . .
—No no wait Amy listen straighten right up, listen . . . he came on at her wadding his papers tight in a hasty gesture of resolution,—won the double Amy just stopped to celebrate, straighten right up I didn’t know you’d be here to meet me listen . . .
—I’m not Jack I’m not here to meet you, I just came for the next train to town and when I heard this one I thought . . .
—Train run both ways told me that yourself remember? Ride you right back in Amy listen . . .
—Back into town? Don’t be silly . . . She turned past him after the receding lights already losing distinction in the aimless spread of evening,—you just got out here.
—Quick trip to settle things Amy pick up a few books, tell Backbite shove the job in his proscribed opening get a fresh start listen . . .
—Jack I don’t want to listen! She’d reached the billboard, sheltered there from the wind against a breadloaf inscribed Father Haigt eat’s it.—Here comes the train now please . . .
—Pope says to get away remember? told me that yourself . . .
—Jack be careful!
The platform shuddered and he flattened up against We kick ass yours too,—to get away . . .
—No please don’t get on Jack please . . .!
—To get away . . .
—No no don’t don’t be careful don’t . . .! Jack you, here, here hold on here . . .
—Got your ticket?
—You can’t sit there Jack your foot’s Jack your foot!
The bridge abutment passed in a roar.—Tell you about Hardy Suggs sometime wrong God damn foot though listen . . .
—Here can you, can you, help me with the door I can’t . . .
—Kick it always helps, here . . . It came back with a crash,—window seat, seat by the window watch the natural beauties rush past the what’s the matter.
—What do you think’s the, you frightened me! She sat fingertips pressed to her eyes.
—Got beautiful hands Amy listen . . .
—And please . . . she dropped them to open the bag on her lap, find her handkerchief—your knee can you move your knee, Jack can’t you just sit . . .
—Trying to pay the fare damn it . . . one foot twisted into the hinge ahead,—reach my pocket . . . the newspapers went to the floor and his hand came up crumpling bills.
—Jack what, where did all that . . .
—Told you won the double Amy get a fresh start, Raindance and Mister paid a hundred twelve forty Mister Fred only six to one, here, here you are my good man.
—Jack stop it you, he can’t change a hundred dollars, you . . .
—Not my good man then God damn it find him something bigger, here . . .
—Here stop it here’s a five, put the rest away you shouldn’t be carrying it all around like that.
—Think you’re mad cause I won the double aren’t you, thought you’d be . . .
—Don’t be silly it’s just, it shouldn’t be that easy that’s all.
—Said that when I found a nickel once Amy not so God damned easy, chance favors the prepared mind sorry . . . he’d plunged after the papers,—Protestant ethic, he said from down there and then, coming upright abruptly—beautiful knees though . . . trying to cross his own and spread the papers up against them, giving that up.
—And what’s happened to your throat, you sound like you . . .
—Little bronchitis get some penicillin get a fresh start, newspaper’s full of opportunities. Here. Monogrammed doormat sixteen ninety-five how’s that, he brandished the page as the train shuddered in to a platform.—Earn your respect making monogrammed doormats how’s that.
—Jack honestly if you can’t simply . . .
—No no listen look, first time in history so many opportunities to do so God damned many things not worth doing, problem’s they start with the sixteen ninety-five have to start with the doormat, went to the woods to live deliberately Thoreau says couldn’t escape from the Protestant ethic, be the first ones to redeem it Amy make monogrammed doormats deliberately, sorry . . . Her knees drew away tight.—Beautiful knees I ever saw why, rather watch the natural wonders rush past the windows?
—I think I would yes, she said turning to where laundry strung behind row houses passed the dirty pane, gave way to a store, stores.
—Might open a dry cleaning establishment . . . he slumped, tried to get both knees up against the seat ahead, gave up and got both feet out in the aisle,—get a fresh start . . .
—Even dry cleaning can’t give you a fresh start Jack that suit is really the most appall . . .
—I mean be the dry cleaner Amy . . . he was back to turning pages,—watch you teach sometimes problem your kiddies think grownups do what they always wanted to do when they grew up, God damned Protestant ethic can’t escape it have to redeem it, have a kid right from the start wants to be a dry cleaner when he grows up how’s that . . . They heaved into another platform where the train gasped, failed to a stop.—He grows up gets married has kids want to make monogram . . .
—I have no idea what you’re talking about honestly Jack if you can’t simply . . .
—Try again then look, Protestant ethic have to justify your own existence be a Chinaman like Lin Yutang and make a million dollars, problem now’s to justify the Protestant ethic grow up want to be a dry clean . . .
She cleared her throat without turning from the dirty pane.—What did you want to be when you grew up.
—A little boy.
—I said when you grew up!
—Can’t remember Amy, told you once I never really expected to . . . and the pages started again,—find something else here maybe . . . pounding them down in rumpled creases against his leg extended in the aisle where his foot kicked a passing trouserleg black serge all the way up to the round collar, easing into the empty seat ahead.—Well Christ.
&nbs
p; —Jack get your feet in, people can’t . . .
—New shoes like them?
—Yes but get them out of the aisle people can’t . . .
—Can’t be alone like a God damned lunchroom, sit down at the empty counter he comes in sits right down beside you, twenty empty God damned stook comes in sits on the stool right beside you . . . A train passed from the other direction with an enveloping shock and was gone, and the door up ahead banged half opened, half closed to the sway of the car past billboards, finished apartments Now Renting, diaper service trucks marshaled against the day to come.—Might start a diaper . . .
—Jack if you say another . . .
—Whole life waiting for this chance favors the prepared mind Pasteur says spend all my God damned time preparing never quite ready when the . . .
—And if you can’t simply sit up I think I’d . . .
—Get a black suit and just freeload, problem it’s too God damned late now even to be any of the things I never wanted to be. He swayed forward, caught the seat ahead as she stood.—Redeem the Protestant epic have a kid wants to be a dry cleaner instant he’s conceived, little conditioning Stella both think dry cleaning next time we climb in concentrate on dry cleaning feel it slip in dry cleaning dry cleaning what . . . She’d already got one knee past him, squeezed the other past his rising knotted up now against the seat ahead where he unfurled the paper full fanning the wisps trailing over the round collar there, folding the pages back and battering them flat without a look across the aisle to where her profile rose beside her in that dirty pane, eyes fixed ahead where slow as though endemic there tears welled, that nearest the glass seized a course down and dropped and she snapped her bag open, pulled dark glasses from the handkerchief tangle and put them on, reflecting the train’s shuddering stops and starts as the aisle generated shopping bags, umbrellas, newspapers neatly creased pausing occasionally at the welter gone silent across the way until, beyond it through the dirty pane, buildings aswarm with fire escapes rose from sight as they dropped in a culvert, dropped back as they rose, the tunnel enclosed them like a blow and she waited, joined the end of the line shuffling toward the door, through it, and then a minute later back, pulling the newspapers aside.
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