A Fairy Tale of New York (16 page)

"Will you look at that. Which way is the bomb shelter. The electricity crawled right up the wall as if it was alive. I saw it"

Figures around Mr Mott. The back of whose hand slowly reaches to rub his forehead. A stampede of kids fighting to get out up the stairs. Screams and punches. And more pounding on the doors of the elevator.

"It's getting unhealthy down here.' '

"Don't panic."

"Don't panic he says up there. Come down here and say that why don't you."

The lights back on. Stan by his father prostrate on the floor. As the figures return and slowly percolate again around the floor. Folk crowding round Mr Mott. Stan holding out an arm.

"Everybody back, everybody back, he's all right. Gee Dad, what happened."

"I'm all right, help me up. Get me some brandy. The good brandy out of the safe. What the hell's the matter with that damn juke box. Get it out of here before it kills someone. All right folks, I'm all right. Just a close shave. Just one of those occasions when your emergency capability gets tested. I think I passed."

"You bet you did Mr Mott."

"Whole life flashes before you. Times you were fishing and swimming and having a kibitz with the gang. You kids should know about these things.''

"Mr Mott I guess it must have been something like up at the front. Shell blast."

"You said it Terry boy. That's why when it comes your kid's turn to get into the holocaust, that might come again any time, you want to know this type of experience. I have a tape recording of the sounds of war. Want you kids to hear sometime. If I had more time I'd listen to it a lot. If you kids will excuse me. I'm all right. But I'm going to get up to bed. Something must be wrong, I can't see my red spot anywhere.''

Mr Mott helped to the sliding door in the wall. Turning waving goodnight. Door slides open. With a buzz click and a clack. Mr Mott gone. Upwards. In his elevator.

Terry boy rubbing his hands. Stan opening a can of beer.

"Come on everybody don't let Dad's little accident stop the fun."

"He's a pretty brave guy Stan. The way he took that."

"Yeah Terry I guess so."

"Had his wits about him all the time. The way he put everybody at their ease."

"Yeah the way they were rushing away up the stairs.''

"Well Stan there could have been real panic down here.''

"Well Stan there could have "Well there wasn't."

"I'll give you that Stan, I'll give you that. But you got to admit it was your dad's cool head. Wish I had a dad like that."

"Yeah Terry, yeah, I know.''

"Well anyway Stan it was an impressive sizing up of the situation at hand.''

"Size this up."

Stan swivelling round, his eyes searching the faces of the room.

"Who said that."

It was

Me

You bunch

Of

Babes

17

At dawn's early light. Corner of Fifth and Fifty Seventh Street. Cornelius Christian seated on the twin brass outlets of a fire hydrant sticking from this stone wall where it says Manufacturing Trust Building. A solitary stroller a block away. Sanitation department truck, grey lumphing insect vehicle squirting water and spinning a big brush along the gutter. The traffic lights change. Green yellow and red. And a breeze blows my dreams abandoned down the street.

Charlotte said I was drunk and disrespectful. To people who were only trying to be nice. Made remarks that I was an undertaker. Embalming their dads. Tired broken work horses silenced after screaming wild in their nightmares. Begetting the little sons who grew up as gods. As honest and brave as dad was crooked and coward.

Charlotte had tears in her eyes. As I left her on her steps.

"O Cornelius you don't mean the things you say. The country is not like that at all.''

I leaned to kiss her. Lips touching lightly. And I ran off roaring. The nation needs a king. Vaulted a fence and trotted casually through a mile of undergrowth and shrubbery. Stopped a car on the cobble stoned avenue which cut through the woods. Said I fell from a plane. Parachute caught in a tree. And I fell into a thicket. Guy kept wobbling the steering wheel he was so excited with my story. Said I could sell it to the movies. If I deepened the plot a little. He'd like to be the agent. Till I told him I abhorred greed and crass opportunism. And he said he wasn't heading at that moment in my direction.

Climbed up the steps of the elevator train. Looming over the tavern just closing where I got Fanny her whiskey. Met another drunk lurching out of the last car. Mumbled and pointed. Said, going right up over there now. Asked him where was there and when was now. He grumbled that there was over there and now was right now. And sure enough. All the white head stones and mausoleums rear on the landscape where my Helen lies buried. He's the only wanderer at large tonight who knows what he's doing. And back at the party Terry boy told me that Stan was going to have to get married. Because a girl said to him as he was on top of her. Go on you can come off in me. She got pregnant. And got a lawyer. While Stan's pa went berserk. And sent the girl to Paris for an abortion and a tour of all the fashion houses. She came back three months later better dressed, bigger in the stomach and got two lawyers. And now she wanted to go to Venice. And all I ever wanted out of life as a little boy was for someone to take me to the rodeo.

Sit here worn and tattered. Across from the big display windows of diamonds and necklaces. Where at comfortable times of the morning the likes of Fanny ambles out from her bath bubbles. Patted with powders, dabbed with perfumes and waltzing past the slit eyed detectives inside the door to buy an emerald before lunch. The only other passenger on the downtown train asked if I needed medical treatment. Mental I said. And as he made for the door I soothed him. Said I was fine, just finished a cross country midnight celebrity race. For charity. My chauffeur broke his leg running behind me with my glucose. In the swaying train I wrote a shaky autograph. He stared at it, said I never heard of you mister but 111 cherish this anyway.

Christian with a lock of hair in his hand. Tugging it down over the left eye. This lone man now approaching. Stops, looks. He must see it written all over me. That I want someone to take me to the rodeo. Walks a step. Stops and looks back again.

"Why you god damn bum, you."

Christian looks up. You'd think with not another soul on Fifth Avenue that this passing cunt would feel some brotherly love. For the sadness of me. A job hunting ex embalmer. Staring friendless across this asphalt carpeted canyon. Watching three sparrows flutter on the edge of that litter basket. But no. He twists his nose in a sneer and curls lips in a snarl. One's just too tired to start teaching this nation a lesson. In outdoor early morning manners.

"What are you a god damn homosexual. Bums like you making a blot on this good district. I saw you sitting there for two blocks"

Chap getting braver as he moves farther away. Say something choice out of my insane cauldron of anger and he'll damn sure run. Be too much effort to catch. Always like to bark big. Gives folk a sporting chance to get out of the way of my carnivorous bite. Hang my head down in guilt. Increase his courage. Get the innocent fucker to sidle up for another abusive onslaught. And I 'll give him some togetherness he 'll never forget.

Christian pressing his brow upon his crossed wrists. Man stops again, looks back and turns. Slowly approaching the beaten looking Christian. Stands now only ten feet away. Come closer you grossly unpleasant vulgarian. So I can seize you in one blissful pounce. Give a little groan. An aroma of dereliction. He steps nearer to savour.

"God damn disgrace, sitting next to an expensive building like that, dressed like that, you god damn bum.''

Christian springing. Two footed, two handed. Grabbing this social umpire of Fifth Avenue. Who gasps as good old sinewy Cornelius whips his arm up behind his back, bending him forward face downwards at the sidewalk. Always like to use the leverage grips. Gives the victim an opportunity to see some sense. Before you break his ass.

''What are you going to mug me. Don't kill me.''

"You unpardonable wretch. How dare you accost me while I'm taking the air and a much needed reverie on this handsome boulevard."

"O jeez you're hurting. My back's under a doctor's care. What are you an actor sonny."

"I am an orphaned prince.''

"What kind of talk is that."

"Now before I kick your human rights right out of you, what do you do for a living.''

"Gee you sound political I'm just a cab driver, I swear to christ kid. That's all I am. Just a cab driver. I don't do nothing to nobody."

''You abused my privacy here just now.''

"No kidding I didn't do nothing. I didn't know you were private. I 'm begging for my life. You must be an actor kid. You must be. Just take my money, I only got thirteen dollars, take it all. But I 'm begging for my life.''

"What makes you think you'll be lucky enough only to be killed."

"O jeez, I thought you was just an innocent bum, no kidding. I never thought you was a mugger.''

"You mean sir."

''Yes sir, I mean sir.''

"You said I was a homosexual.''

"O no that was only before I knew you was a mugger. Sir.''

"When did you last pledge allegiance to your country.''

"Gee sir I don't want to get into a whole lot of politics and things. Just let me go. I 'm a victim of heart trouble.''

"Now you reprehensible repulsive cunt, let me teach you some manners. Not to open up your big stupid mouth to a gentleman taking his ease."

"No no no like a clam. I really mean it. And you're no mugger."

"So I 'm a homosexual."

"No no no. That was just something came into my mind that got out before I knew what I was saying.''

''Well in fact I am a homosexual, you wretch.''

"Gee that's wonderful fella, no kidding I really mean it. More people should be homosexual. I think my son in law is homosexual and I tolerate it for my daughter's sake. I got two nice grandchildren but all I hear out of my daughter and her husband is gimmie gimmie gimmie."

"Are you a kind hearted fucker.''

"O jeez christ please don't say anything like that to me, why don't you let me go, I promise I'll never squeal I was mugged. I'm on duty in half an hour. They'll wonder what happened if I don't get to the garage on time.''

"Repeat after me."

"Anything you want fella.''

''I am an unconscionable, wretched fuckpig.''

"I can't say that big first word. Can't I just say I'm a wretched shit."

"No."

"O fella have mercy I'm begging you. What have you got a knife or something.''

"I 'm going to de ball you.''

"I'm begging you. I mean the way you sound, like you was a college professor, like I can't believe the words you're saying."

"I'll repeat them. I'm going to de ball you. Down on your knees, keep your hands up behind your back. If you move I'll put this knife right through your spinal column. Until your head doesn't know what your legs are doing when they start running to save your life. One move and you're dead instead of merely de balled. So another like you doesn't inhabit this earth again. I'm going to make it a swell place. Just for swell folks.''

"O god fella, god had better have mercy on your soul for doing this to me."

"Shut up. One more word, one more movement and I rip this blade through the back of your neck. Now look forward, right at the building. Don't move your eyes.''

Christian tip toeing backwards. And nimbly up Fifth Avenue. The odd car passing slows down to peek at the disciplining and then roars away with a smell of burning tires. Man still kneeling. Trembling in his terror. And now a blood curdling cry and scream of no no as he pitches forward on his hands and turns to look up behind into this dawning sky over Fifth Avenue. Out of which a flashing blade might come.

Christian, knees pumping, eyes watering in the wind. Speeding north and around the corner of this big toy shop. Teddy bears and trains in the window. All the lousy Christmases I had. Every toy busted by the time I wound it up. Foster parents always gave their own kids the kind of toys that took all day to break.

Turning in under this familiar canopy. The big heavy iron grilled glass door unlocked. Push it open. Dark complexioned chap on duty, feet splayed asleep. Rubs his eyes and jumps awake out of the big chair in the lobby. Sucked in his breath when he saw me. Wears one yellow and one blue sock. Makes you cross eyed seeing if they match.

"Hey how did you get in, is this a hold up.'"

"No, don't be nervous. Mrs Sourpuss please."

"Well I'm nervous. People are getting robbed while they're kneeling in church praying. Is Mrs Sourpuss expecting you. This time of morning."

"Yes."

"I better ring."

"Like hell you will."

"I 'm only doing my job, I could get fired."

"You could get killed."

"Hey what's with you mister.''

"Mister Peabody."

"You 're Mr Peabody, that Kelly talks about.''

"Yes."

"That's different why didn't you say so. You took that big guy. The football player used to be married to Mrs Sourpuss. Glen told Kelly. I mean man, he's twice your size. They said you had him down begging mercy like a baby. Hey no kidding, you don't look tough, could you do a thing like that.''

"Maybe."

"Could I try it with you. I mean you 're not that big.''

''Grab me. Anywhere you want. Any grip.''

"Sure. O k. Now wait. Here I'm going to try a head lock on you. O k."

Operator buttoning his uniform. Putting his arm up around Christian's neck from behind, tightening across Cornelius's throat.

"Now Mr Peabody. Go ahead. Get out of that. Ha ha. Not so easy is it."

Elevator operator swinging, feet up into the air. And crashing down on his arse the center of the black and white tiled lobby. Slowly sitting up and resting back on his hands. Nobody believes you. If you want walk the earth in peace. You've just got to bust asses. All the way.

Operator limping to the elevator. Said gee that was some flip as he deposited Christian on Fanny's floor. Stand here in the vestibule. When I first heard that word. Thought that's what women had. And they asked you in. After you were married to them and graduated from school. Where I had my friends Pitt and Meager when we played tag and ringaleevio. I beat Meager up. Because he was so big. Gave him a bloody nose. Teacher told me to confess it. Meager used to talk to me a lot. Pitt agreed when Meager said that although I didn't show it, I was smart. I was made Scrooge in the Christmas play when Meager sulked and said he didn't want to act. The girl I loved was the angel. Pitt made me mad when he gave her a feel when the lights were out. She had fairy wings and a wand. During rehearsal I sat at the back with the angel beside me. She said move over and let me sit too. And sat there hoping everyone would notice she was beside me. Before that she always wanted me to go away. She wore white high shoes that were clean every day. .And when I looked over her shoulder in class to see how she could write, she told me to stop copying. She had brown eyes and auburn hair. When I stared at her she said don't look at me and mind your own business. And once with other girls in our class she was skipping rope and I stopped to watch and she said if you don't stop watching us we'll quit. Only when I got to be a star of the school play was she ever nice to me. And nobody's cast me in a leading role since.

Door opening. Fanny in her long voluminous lingerie. Blue gauzy folds sweep round her as she turns her back. Christian following her along the hall into the white room. Table lamp with china cherubs and leaves switched on. Get an expression ready on my face. To answer her low growling voice nearly whispering.

"Where the hell have you been you son of a bitch.''

"Out."

"What happened to you."

"Nothing."

"You're in shreds. I waited all god damn afternoon. They said at Vine's office you left there at noon."

"I went for a long walk."

"A walk. What for."

''Can't I have some privacy.''

"Privacy. You mean to come waltzing in here looking like that five thirty in the morning. Get the hell out of here if you want some privacy."

"O k."

Christian rising. Taking the dignified steps back into the hall. Past a little map on the wall I've never noticed before. Of an island. Put my hand up on this pearl button. Push for the last time. Feel eyes behind me. To hell with her. This is it. For good. Out into the discourteous world. Just when I need silken sheets, froths of pillow, my head sunk in soft breasts and entwined about me the languorous arms. That ferry grapefruit juice, strips of bacon and golden toasted breads.

''All right. Come back. I don't want you to go."

Christian marching back. Followed by Fanny closing the door. Sit and pick up this fashion magazine. To put something foolish on my mind fast. Fanny stands and takes a deep breath, hands on hips and a frown on her face.