The Iceman Cometh (29 page)

JIMMY

More than any of them, his face has a wax-figure blankness that makes it look embalmed. He answers in a precise, completely lifeless voice, but his reply is not to
HARRY
’s
question, and he does not look at him or anyone else
.

Yes. Quite right. It was all a stupid lie—my nonsense about tomorrow. Naturally, they would never give me my position back. I would never dream of asking them. It would be hopeless. I didn’t resign. I was fired for drunkenness. And that was years ago. I’m much worse now. And it was absurd of me to excuse my drunkenness by pretending it was my wife’s adultery that ruined my life. As Hickey guessed, I was a drunkard before that. Long before. I discovered early in life that living frightened me when I was sober. I have forgotten why I married Marjorie. I can’t even remember now if she was pretty. She was a blonde, I think, but I couldn’t swear to it. I had some idea of wanting a home, perhaps. But, of course, I much preferred the nearest pub. Why Marjorie married me, God knows. It’s impossible to believe she loved me. She soon found I much preferred drinking all night with my pals to being in bed with her. So, naturally, she was unfaithful. I didn’t blame her. I really didn’t care. I was glad to be free—even grateful to her, I think, for giving me such a good tragic excuse to drink as much as I damned well pleased.

He stops like a mechanical doll that has run down. No one gives any sign of having heard him. There is a heavy silence. Then
ROCKY
,
at the table in the bar, turns grouchily as he hears a noise behind him. Two men come quietly forward. One
,
MORAN
,
is middle-aged. The other
,
LIEB
,
is in his twenties. They look ordinary in every way, without anything distinctive to indicate what they do for a living
.

ROCKY

Grumpily
.

In de back room if yuh wanta drink.

MORAN
makes a peremptory sign to be quiet. All of a sudden
ROCKY
senses they are detectives and springs up to face them, his expression freezing into a wary blankness
.
MORAN
pulls back his coat to show his badge
.

MORAN

In a low voice
.

Guy named Hickman in the back room?

ROCKY

Tink I know de names of all de guys—?

MORAN

Listen, you! This is murder. And don’t be a sap. It was Hickman himself phoned in and said we’d find him here around two.

ROCKY

Dully
.

So dat’s who he phoned to.
He shrugs his shoulders
.

Aw right, if he asked for it. He’s de fat guy sittin’ alone.
He slumps down in his chair again
.

And if yuh want a confession all yuh got to do is listen. He’ll be tellin’ all about it soon. Yuh can’t stop de bastard talkin’.

MORAN
gives him a curious look, then whispers
to
LIEB
,
who disappears rear and a moment later appears in the hall doorway of the back room. He spots
HICKEY
and slides into a chair at the left of the doorway, cutting off escape by the hall
.
MORAN
goes back and stands in the opening in the curtain leading to the back room. He sees
HICKEY
and stands watching him and listening
.

HICKEY

Suddenly bursts out
.

I’ve got to tell you! Your being the way you are now gets my goat! It’s all wrong! It puts things in my mind—about myself. It makes me think, if I got balled up about you, how do I know I wasn’t balled up about myself? And that’s plain damned foolishness. When you know the story of me and Evelyn, you’ll see there wasn’t any other possible way out of it, for her sake. Only I’ve got to start way back at the beginning or you won’t understand.

He starts his story, his tone again becoming musingly reminiscent
.

You see, even as a kid I was always restless. I had to keep on the go. You’ve heard the old saying, “Ministers’ sons are sons of guns.” Well, that was me, and then some. Home was like a jail. I didn’t fall for the religious bunk. Listening to my old man whooping up hell fire and scaring those Hoosier suckers into shelling out their dough only handed me a laugh, although I had to hand it to him, the way he sold them nothing for something. I guess I take after him, and that’s what made me a good salesman. Well, anyway, as I said, home was like jail, and so was school, and so was that damned hick town. The only place I liked was the pool rooms, where I could smoke Sweet Caporals, and mop up a couple of beers, thinking I was a hell-on-wheels sport. We had one hooker shop in town, and, of course, I liked that, too. Not that I hardly ever had entrance money. My old man was a tight old bastard. But I liked to sit around in the parlor and joke with the girls, and they liked me because I could kid ’em along and make ’em laugh. Well, you know what a small town is. Everyone got wise to me. They all said I was a no-good tramp. I didn’t give a damn what they said. I hated everybody in the place. That is, except Evelyn. I loved Evelyn. Even as a kid. And Evelyn loved me.

He pauses. No one moves or gives any sign except by the dread in their eyes that they have heard him. Except
PARRITT
,
who takes his hands from his face to look at
LARRY
pleadingly
.

PARRITT

I loved Mother, Larry! No matter what she did! I still do! Even though I know she wishes now I was dead! You believe that, don’t you? Christ, why can’t you say something?

HICKEY

Too absorbed in his story now to notice this
—
goes on in a tone of fond
,
sentimental reminiscence
.

Yes, sir, as far back as I can remember, Evelyn and I loved each other.

She always stuck up for me. She wouldn’t believe the gossip—or she’d pretend she didn’t. No one could convince her I was no good.

Evelyn was stubborn as all hell once she’d made up her mind. Even when I’d admit things and ask her forgiveness, she’d make excuses for me and defend me against myself. She’d kiss me and say she knew I didn’t mean it and I wouldn’t do it again. So I’d promise I

wouldn’t. I’d have to promise, she was so sweet and good, though I

knew darned well—

A touch of strange bitterness comes into his voice for a moment
.

No, sir, you couldn’t stop Evelyn. Nothing on earth could shake her faith in me. Even I couldn’t. She was a sucker for a pipe dream.

Then quickly
.

Well, naturally, her family forbid her seeing me. They were one of the town’s best, rich for that hick burg, owned the trolley line and lumber company. Strict Methodists, too. They hated my guts. But they couldn’t stop Evelyn. She’d sneak notes to me and meet me on the sly. I was getting more restless. The town was getting more like a jail. I made up my mind to beat it. I knew exactly what I wanted to be by that time. I’d met a lot of drummers around the hotel and liked ’em. They were always telling jokes. They were sports. They kept moving. I liked their life. And I knew I could kid people and sell things. The hitch was how to get the railroad fare to the Big Town. I told Mollie Arlington my trouble. She was the madame of the cat-house. She liked me. She laughed and said, “Hell, I’ll stake you, Kid! I’ll bet on you. With that grin of yours and that line of bull, you ought to be able to sell skunks for good ratters!”

He chuckles
.

Mollie was all right. She gave me confidence in myself. I paid her back, the first money I earned. Wrote her a kidding letter, I remember, saying I was peddling baby carriages and she and the girls had better take advantage of our bargain offer.

He chuckles
.

But that’s ahead of my story. The night before I left town, I had a date with Evelyn. I got all worked up, she was so pretty and sweet and good. I told her straight, “You better forget me, Evelyn, for your own sake. I’m no good and never will be. I’m not worthy to wipe your shoes.” I broke down and cried. She just said, looking white and scared, “Why, Teddy? Don’t you still love me?” I said, “Love you? God, Evelyn, I love you more than anything in the world. And I always will!” She said, “Then nothing else matters, Teddy, because nothing but death could stop my loving you. So I’ll wait, and when you’re ready you send for me and we’ll be married. I know I can make you happy, Teddy, and once you’re happy you won’t want to do any of the bad things you’ve done any more.” And I said, “Of course, I won’t, Evelyn!” I meant it, too. I believed it. I loved her so much she could make me believe anything.

He sighs. There is a suspended, waiting silence. Even the two detectives are drawn into it. Then
HOPE
breaks into dully exasperated, brutally callous protest
.

HOPE

Get it over, you long-winded bastard! You married her, and you caught her cheating with the iceman, and you croaked her, and who the hell cares? What’s she to us? All we want is to pass out in peace, bejees!

A chorus of dull, resentful protest from all the group. They mumble, like sleepers who curse a person who keeps awakening them
, “
What’s it to us? We want to pass out in peace!
”
HOPE
drinks and they mechanically follow his example. He pours another and they do the same. He complains with a stupid, nagging insistence
.

No life in the booze! No kick! Dishwater. Bejees, I’ll never pass out!

HICKEY

Goes on as if there had been no interruption
.

So I beat it to the Big Town. I got a job easy, and it was a cinch for me to make good. I had the knack. It was like a game, sizing people up quick, spotting what their pet pipe dreams were, and then kidding ’em along that line, pretending you believed what they wanted to believe about themselves. Then they liked you, they trusted you, they wanted to buy something to show their gratitude. It was fun. But still, all the while I felt guilty, as if I had no right to be having such a good time away from Evelyn. In each letter I’d tell her how I missed her, but I’d keep warning her, too. I’d tell her all my faults, how I liked my booze every once in a while, and so on. But there was no shaking Evelyn’s belief in me, or her dreams about the future. After each letter of hers, I’d be as full of faith as she was. So as soon as I got enough saved to start us off, I sent for her and we got married. Christ, wasn’t I happy for a while! And wasn’t she happy! I don’t care what anyone says, I’ll bet there never was two people who loved each other more than me and Evelyn. Not only then but always after, in spite of everything I did—

He pauses
—
then sadly
.

Well, it’s all there, at the start, everything that happened afterwards. I never could learn to handle temptation. I’d want to reform and mean it. I’d promise Evelyn, and I’d promise myself, and I’d believe it. I’d tell her, it’s the last time. And she’d say, “I know it’s the last time, Teddy. You’ll never do it again.” That’s what made it so hard. That’s what made me feel such a rotten skunk—her always forgiving me. My playing around with women, for instance. It was only a harmless good time to me. Didn’t mean anything. But I’d know what it meant to Evelyn. So I’d say to myself, never again. But you know how it is, traveling around. The damned hotel rooms. I’d get seeing things in the wall paper. I’d get bored as hell. Lonely and homesick. But at the same time sick of home. I’d feel free and I’d want to celebrate a little. I never drank on the job, so it had to be dames. Any tart. What I’d want was some tramp I could be myself with without being ashamed—someone I could tell a dirty joke to and she’d laugh.

CORA

With a dull, weary bitterness
.

Jees, all de lousy jokes I’ve had to listen to and pretend was funny!

HICKEY

Goes on obliviously
.

Sometimes I’d try some joke I thought was a corker on Evelyn. She’d always make herself laugh. But I could tell she though it was dirty, not funny. And Evelyn always knew about the tarts I’d been with when I came home from a trip. She’d kiss me and look in my eyes, and she’d know. I’d see in her eyes how she was trying not to know, and then telling herself even if it was true, he couldn’t help it, they tempt him, and he’s lonely, he hasn’t got me, it’s only his body, anyway, he doesn’t love them, I’m the only one he loves. She was right, too. I never loved anyone else. Couldn’t if I wanted to.

He pauses
.

She forgave me even when it all had to come out in the open. You know how it is when you keep taking chances. You may be lucky for a long time, but you get nicked in the end. I picked up a nail from some tart in Altoona.

CORA

Dully, without resentment
.

Yeah. And she picked it up from some guy. It’s all in de game. What de hell of it?

HICKEY

I had to do a lot of lying and stalling when I got home. It didn’t do any good. The quack I went to got all my dough and then told me I was cured and I took his word. But I wasn’t, and poor Evelyn—But she did her best to make me believe she fell for my lie about how traveling men get things from drinking cups on trains. Anyway, she forgave me. The same way she forgave me every time I’d turn up after a periodical drunk. You all know what I’d be like at the end of one. You’ve seen me. Like something lying in the gutter that no alley cat would lower itself to drag in—something they threw out of the D.T. ward in Bellevue along with the garbage, something that ought to be dead and isn’t!