Nathanael West - The Day of the Locust [52]
The dwarf struggled to his feet and stood with his head lowered like a tiny ram. Just as Faye and Earle started to dance again, he charged between Earle’s legs and dug upward with both hands. Earle screamed with pain, and tried to get at him. He screamed again, then groaned and started to sink to the floor, tearing Faye’s silk pajamas on his way down.
Miguel grabbed Abe by the throat. The dwarf let go his hold and Earle sank to the floor. Lifting the little man free, Miguel shifted his grip to his ankles and dashed him against the wall, like a man killing a rabbit against a tree. He swung the dwarf back to slam him again, but Tod caught his arm. Then Claude grabbed the dwarf and together they pulled him away from the Mexican.
He was unconscious. They carried him into the kitchen and held him under the cold water. He came to quickly and began to curse. When they saw he was all right, they went back to the living room.
Miguel was helping Earle over to the couch. All the tan had drained from his face and it was covered with sweat. Miguel loosened his trousers while Claude took off his necktie and opened his collar.
Faye and Tod watched from the side.
“Look,” she said, “my new pajamas are ruined.”
One of the sleeves had been pulled almost off and her shoulder stuck through it. The trousers were also torn. While he stared at her, she undid the top of the trousers and stepped out of them. She was wearing tight black lace drawers. Tod took a step toward her and hesitated. She threw the pajama bottoms over her arm, turned slowly and walked toward the door.
“Faye,” Tod gasped.
She stopped and smiled at him.
“I’m going to bed,” she said. “Get that little guy out of here.”
Claude came over and took Tod by the arm.
“Let’s blow,” he said.
Tod nodded.
“We’d better take the homunculus with us or he’s liable to murder the whole household.”
Tod nodded again and followed him into the kitchen. They found the dwarf holding a big piece of ice to the side of his head.
“There’s some lump where that greaser slammed me.” He made them finger and admire it.
“Let’s go home,” Claude said.
“No,” said the dwarf, “let’s go see some girls. I’m just getting started.”
“To hell with that,” snapped Tod. “Come on.”
He pushed the dwarf toward the door.
“Take your hands off, punk!” roared the little man. Claude stepped between them.
“Easy there, citizen,” he said.
“All right, but no shoving.”
He strutted out and they followed.
Earle still lay stretched on the couch. He had his eyes closed and was holding himself below the stomach with both hands. Miguel wasn’t there.
Abe chuckled, wagging his big head gleefully.
“I fixed that buckeroo.”
Out on the sidewalk he tried again to get them to go with him.
“Come on, you guys—we’ll have some fun.”
“I’m going home,” Claude said.
They went with the dwarf to his car and watched him climb in behind the wheel. He had special extensions on the clutch and brake so that he could reach them with his tiny feet.
“Come to town?”
“No, thanks,” Claude said politely.
“Then to hell with you!”
That was his farewell. He let out the brake and the car rolled away.
24
Tod woke up the next morning with a splitting headache. He called the studio to say he wouldn’t be in and remained in bed until noon, then went downtown for breakfast. After several cups of hot tea, he felt a little better and decided to visit Homer. He still wanted to apologize.
Climbing the hill to Pinyon Canyon made his head throb and he was relieved when no one answered his repeated knocks. As he started away, he saw one of the curtains move and went back to knock once more. There was still no answer.
He went around to the garage. Faye’s car was gone and so were the game chickens. He went to the back of the house and knocked on the kitchen door. Somehow the silence seemed too complete. He tried the handle and found that the door wasn’t locked. He shouted hello a few times, as a warning, then went through the kitchen into the living room.
The red velvet curtains were all drawn tight, but he could see Homer sitting on the couch and staring at the backs of his hands which were cupped over his knees. He wore an old-fashioned cotton nightgown and his feet were bare.