Remi felt it wasn’t my proper share; so he’d taken to hanging the grocery slips, the long ribbon slips with itemized prices, on the wall of the bathroom for me to see and understand. Lee Ann was convinced Remi was hiding money from her, and that I was too, for that matter. She threatened to leave him.
Remi curled his lip. “Where do you think you’ll go?”
“Jimmy.”
“Jimmy? A cashier at the racetrack? Do you hear that, Sal, Lee Ann is going to go and put the latch on a cashier at the racetrack. Be sure and bring your broom, dear, the horses are going to eat a lot of oats this week with my hundred-dollar bill.”
Things grew to worse proportions; the rain roared. Lee Ann originally lived in the place first, so she told Remi to pack up and get out. He started packing. I pictured myself all alone in this rainy shack with that untamed shrew. I tried to intervene. Remi pushed Lee Ann. She made a jump for the gun. Remi gave me the gun and told me to hide it; there was a clip of eight shells in it. Lee Ann began screaming, and finally she put on her raincoat and went out in the mud to find a cop, and what a cop—if it wasn’t our old friend Alcatraz. Luckily he wasn’t home. She came back all wet. I hid in my corner with my head between my knees. Gad, what was I doing three thousand miles from home? Why had I come here? Where was my slow boat to China?
“And another thing, you dirty man,” yelled Lee Ann. “Tonight was the last time I’ll ever make you your filthy brains and eggs, and your filthy lamb curry, so you can fill your filthy belly and get fat and sassy right before my eyes.”
“It’s all right,” Remi just said quietly. “It’s perfectly all right. When I took up with you I didn’t expect roses and moonshine and I’m not surprised this day. I tried to do a few things for you—I tried my best for both of you; you’ve both let me down. I’m terribly, terribly disappointed in both of you,” he continued in absolute sincerity. “I thought something would come of us together, something fine and lasting, I tried, I flew to Hollywood, I got Sal a job, I bought you beautiful dresses, I tried to introduce you to the finest people in San Francisco. You refused, you both refused to follow the slightest wish I had. I asked for nothing in return. Now I ask for one last favor and then I’ll never ask a favor again. My stepfather is coming to San Francisco next Saturday night. All I ask is that you come with me and try to look as though everything is the way I’ve written him. In other words, you, Lee Ann, you are my girl, and you, Sal, you are my friend. I’ve arranged to borrow a hundred dollars for Saturday night. I’m going to see that my father has a good time and can go away without any reason in the world to worry about me.”
This surprised me. Remi’s stepfather was a distinguished doctor who had practiced in Vienna, Paris, and London. I said, “You mean to tell me you’re going to spend a hundred dollars on your stepfather? He’s got more money than you’ll ever have! You’ll be in debt, man!”
“That’s all right,” said Remi quietly and with defeat in his voice. “I ask only one last thing of you—that you try at least to make things look all right and try to make a good impression. I love my stepfather and I respect him. He’s coming with his young wife. We must show him every courtesy.” There were times when Remi was really the most gentlemanly person in the world. Lee Ann was impressed, and looked forward to meeting his stepfather; she thought he might be a catch, if his son wasn’t.
Saturday night rolled around. I had already quit my job with the cops, just before being fired for not making enough arrests, and this was going to be my last Saturday night. Remi and Lee Ann went to see his stepfather at the hotel room first; I had traveling money and got crocked in the bar downstairs. Then I went up to join them all, late as hell. His father opened the door, a distinguished tall man in pince-nez. “Ah,” I said on seeing him. “Monsieur Boncœur,