All the King's Men - Robert Penn Warren [239]
But sitting there in the lobby, waiting for the call which did not come, I was willing to let those speculations rest. I went back to the editorial. That editorial was shadow-boxing, all right. It was shadow-boxing, for at the very minute it was just as likely true as not that the vote was being called up in the Capitol, and it would take the winged hosts to make the vote different from what it was going to be after the MacMurfee boys had talked themselves out and the count was called.
It was around nine o’clock when I was paged. But it wasn’t Adam. It was a message from the Capitol saying the Boss was there and wanted me to come up. I left word at the desk that if Dr. Stanton should call me, he was to be asked to call the Capitol, I would leave instructions with the operator on the switchboard there. Then I ran up Anne to give her the news, or rather, the no-news, about my efforts to date. She sounded calm and tired. I went out to my car. It had been raining again, for the gutter by the curb was running with a black stream which gleamed like oil in the lights of the street. But it had let up now.
When I pulled into the Capitol grounds I saw that the place was pretty well lit up. But that wasn’t surprising, even at that hour, when the Legislature was in session. And when I got inside, the place was certainly not uninhabited. The solons had broken up shop for the evening and were milling about in the corridors, especially at those strategic points where the big brass spittoons stood. And there were plenty of other people around, too. There were a lot of reporters, and herds of bystanders, those people who love to have the feeling that they are around when something big is happening.
I worked through the place and up to the Boss’s office. They told me there that he had gone down with somebody to the Senate.
“There wasn’t any hitch about the tax bill passing, was there? I asked the girl.
“Don’t be silly,” the girl said.
I started to tell her that I had been around there back when she was lying in the crib sucking her thumb, but didn’t do it. Instead, I asked her to take care of the business of Adam’s call for me, and went down to the Senate.
At first I didn’t spot the Boss. Then I saw him off to one side, with a couple of the Senators and Calvin Sperling and discreetly in the background several other men, just hangers-on who were warming their hands at the blaze of greatness. Over to one side of the Boss, I saw Sugar-Boy lounging against the marble wall, with his cheeks drawn in to suck the sugar cube which, at that moment no doubt, was dissolving its bliss down his gullet. The Boss stood with his hands clasped behind him and his head hanging a little forward. He was listening to something one of the Senators was telling him.
I approach the group and stood back from it, waiting. In a minute I caught the Boss’s eye and knew that he had seen me. So I went over to Sugar-Boy and said, “Hello.”
He managed to get the word out after several efforts. The he resumed work on the sugar. I leaned against the wall beside him, and waited.
Four or five minutes passed, and the Boss still stood there with his head hanging forward, listening. He could listen a long time and not say a word, just let the fellow our it out. The stuff would pour out and pour out, and the Boss would just be waiting to see what was in the bottom of the bucket. Finally, I knew that he had enough. He knew what was in the bottom of the fellow’s bucket or that there wasn’t anything there, after all. I knew that he had had enough, for I saw him suddenly lift his head up sharp and look straight at the man. That was the sign. I stopped leaning against the wall. I knew the Boss was ready to go.
He looked at the man and shook his head. “It won’t wash,” he said in a perfectly amiable fashion. It was loud enough for me to hear. The other fellow had been talking low and fast.
Then the Boss looked over at me and called, “Jack.”
I went to him.
“Let’s get upstairs,” he said to me, “I want to tell you something.”
“O.K.,” I said, and started toward the door.
He left the men and followed me, catching up with me at the door. Sugar-Boy fell in just on his other side and a little back.