Nathanael West - The Day of the Locust [44]
“What’s Faye say?”
“She doesn’t mind the hen. She says it’s only natural.”
Then, in case Tod should mistake this for criticism, he told him what a fine, wholesome child she was. Tod agreed, but brought him back to the subject.
“If I were you,” he said, “I’d report the chickens to the police. You have to have a permit to keep chickens in the city. I’d do something and damned quick.”
Homer avoided a direct answer.
“I wouldn’t touch that thing for all the money in the world. She’s all over scabs and almost naked. She looks like a buzzard. She eats meat. I saw her one time eating some meat that the Mexican got out of the garbage can. He feeds the roosters grain but the hen eats garbage and he keeps her in a dirty box.”
“If I were you, rd throw those bastards out and their birds with them.”
“No, they’re nice enough young fellows, just down on their luck, like a lot of people these days, you know. It’s just that hen…”
He shook his head wearily, as though he could smell and taste her.
Faye was coming back. Homer saw that Tod was going to speak to her about Earle and the Mexican and signaled desperately for him not to do it. She, however, caught him at it and was curious.
“What have you guys been chinning about?”
“You, darling,” Tod said. “Homer has a t.l. for you.”
“Tell me, Homer.”
“No, first you tell me one.”
“Well, the man I just danced with asked me if you were a movie big shot.”
Tod saw that Homer was unable to think of a return compliment so he spoke for him.
“I said you were the most beautiful girl in the place.”
“Yes,” Homer agreed. “That’s what Tod said.”
“I don’t believe it. Tod hates me. And anyway, I caught you telling him to keep quiet. You were shushing him.” She laughed.
“I bet I know what you were talking about.” She mimicked Homer’s excited disgust. “‘That dirty black hen, she’s all over scabs and almost naked.’”
Homer laughed apologetically, but Tod was angry. “What’s the idea of keeping those guys in the garage?” he demanded.
“What the hell is it your business?” she replied, but not with real anger. She was amused.
“Homer enjoys their company. Don’t you, sloppyboppy?”
“I told Tod they were nice fellows just down on their luck like a lot of people these days. There’s an awful lot of unemployment going around.”
“That’s right,” she said. “If they go, I go.”
Tod had guessed as much. He realized there was no use in saying anything. Homer was again signaling for him to keep quiet.
For some reason or other, Faye suddenly became ashamed of herself. She apologized to Tod by offering to dance with him again, flirting as she suggested it. Tod refused.
She broke the silence that followed by a eulogy of Miguel’s game chickens, which was really meant to be an excuse for herself. She described what marvelous fighters the birds were, how much Miguel loved them and what good care he took of them.
Homer agreed enthusiastically. Tod remained silent. She asked him if he had ever seen a cock fight and invited him to the garage for the next night. A man from San Diego was coming north with his birds to pit them against Miguel’s.
When she turned to Homer again, he leaned away as though she were going to hit him. She flushed with shame at this and looked at Tod to see if he had noticed. The rest of the evening, she tried to be nice to Homer. She even touched him a little, straightening his collar and patting his hair smooth. He beamed happily.
21
When Tod told Claude Estee about the cock fight, he wanted to go with him. They drove to Homer’s place together.
It was one of those blue and lavender nights when the luminous color seems to have been blown over the scene with an air brush. Even the darkest shadows held some purple.
A car stood in the driveway of the garage with its headlights on. They could see several men in the corner of the building and could hear their voices. Someone laughed, using only two notes, ha-ha and ha-ha, over and over again.