The Naked and the Dead - Norman Mailer [290]
One night something a little different occurs.
Hey, Al, how ya doin'? He stops at the cigar counter, picks out a two-for-35-cents brand. (Rolling it in his mouth) Whadeya say?
Al, a middle-aged man, comes out to him with a bag of change. Hey, Polack, there's a guy here wants his payoff. His number came in.
Polack shrugs. Why don' ya tell the lucky gentleman that Fred'll be around tomorrow with the money?
I told him, he don't believe me. There he is. (A thin seedy guy with a red pointed nose.)
What's the story, Jack? Polack says.
Now, listen, I don't want to make any trouble, mister, I ain't lookin' for a fight, but my number came through, I just want to get my money.
Well, now hold on, Jackson, let's take a breat'. He winks at the owner. You don' wanta be gettin' your balls in an uproar.
Listen, mister, all I want is the money. 572 it paid off, didn't it? Look here's the ticket. (A couple of kids who have come in for candy are watching, and Polack grasps him by the arm.)
Let's get in here and we'll talk it over. (He slams the door behind them.) Okay, ya won, Jack, and tomorrow the payoff comes. We got one guy to collect and one guy to pay off. It's a big outfit, Jackson, we got more than your ticket to worry about.
How do I know anybody's gonna come around?
How much ya put down?
Three cents.
You're gettin' twenty-one bucks, huh? Wha' do ya t'ink, you're gonna bankrupp us? He laughs. You'll get your money, Jack.
(The hand on his forearm.) I'd like it tonight, mister, I'm dying for a drink.
Polack sighs. Look, Jack, here's a buck. Tomorrow when ya get paid y' can give it to Fred.
The man takes it, stares at it dubiously. You're levelin' with me, mister.
Yeah, Jack, yeah. (He shrugs off the arm, goes out through the store to his car.) As he drives to the next place, he shakes his head. A deep contempt brews in him.
Small potatoes. Dumb bastard wins twenty-one bucks, an' he t'inks we're gonna stay up nights to get out o' payin' him. Jesus. It's a pretty small grifter who fugs around for twenty-one bucks.
Hello, Momma, how're ya doin', how's Casimir's sweetheart?
His mother stares suspiciously through the slit in the door, then opens it widely as she recognizes him.
I haven't seen you in a month, Son, she says in Polish.
Coupla weeks, a mont', what difference it make? I'm around, ain't I? Here's some candy for ya. (At the doubtful look on her face, he frowns.) Ain't ya got your teet' fixed yet?
She shrugs. I bought a little something else.
For Crisake, Ma, when the hell ya gonna do it?
I bought some material for dresses.
Mary again, huh?
An unmarried girl needs clothes.
Aaaah. (Mary has come in, nods coolly at him.) What ya been doin', useless?
Dry up, Casimir.
He hitches his suspenders. Why the hell don' ya get married an' give Ma a break?
'Cause all the men are like you, out for the same thing.
She wants to become a nun, his mother says.
A nun, holy cow. He stares at her appraisingly. A nun!
Stevie thinks maybe she ought to.
He looks objectively at her narrow sallow face, the yellowing skin under the eyes. Yeah, maybe she ought to at that. Again he is stirred with contempt, and beneath it a vague compassion. Ya know, Momma, I'm a lucky guy.
You're a crook, Mary says.
Keep still, the mother says. All right, Son, if you're lucky, it's good.
Aaah. (He's annoyed at himself. It's a bad idea to say you're lucky.) Gaw ahead, become a nun. . . How's Steve?
He works so hard. His Mikey, the little one, was sick.
I'll see him one of these days.
You children should stick together. (Two of them are dead, the others married except for Mary and Casimir.)
Yah. He has given her money for the apartment: the scattered lace doilies, the new upholstered chair, the candlesticks on the bureau are his contribution. But the place is unutterably drab. Aaaah, it's dis-gustin'.
What, Casimir?
Nothin', Momma, I gotta go now.
You just came.
Yah, I know. Here, here's some money. Will ya get your teet' fixed for Crisake?
Good-bye, Casimir. (It's Mary.)
Yah. good-bye, kiddo. He looks at her again. A nun, huh? Okay. Good luck to ya, kiddo.