me and have a meal. Plenty for everybody. You know, if you're not doing anything."
"Thank you."
"Wife's always glad to see you. Says she gets a real kick out of some of your remarks. Steak and kidney, I know it's your favorite."
Smith slunk deeply in the kindly leather. World goes by so grey on these streets. Man stumbling against a wall in tatters. Grey smile, and silver hair. Newspaper wrapped around a shin. Luckier than poor old Bonnif ace drenched red in his underwear. Brought him a dozen hankies with a blue letter C from the gift counter to mop up. I offered him cash and he asked for understanding. And a long loan of the sable.
Granite pillars above the wide steps. In there they administer justice. Only takes a minute to attach the electrodes. Just pop one here on the top of the head, couple little straps around the arms and legs. Dynamo House sadly named.
"Where to, Mr. Smith."
"Left around the park. And down Golden Avenue."
"This is where the money was flying round."
"I remember."
"Human nature had an outlet that day, huh, Mr. Smith. Offer about the meal stands. No trouble."
"Thanks Herbert. Miss Tomson's holding a party later."
"O sure. You want a rain check."
"A rain check."
"Don't mind me saying, Mr. Smith, but she's some girl. And funny, a real nice person. Real nice. You know."
"Yes."
"Where you want me to stop."
"The big building, Hotel on the right. That'll be all for tonight."
"This is The Excelsior."
"Yes,"
"Sure you're all right, Mr. Smith. You know you look very very tired."
"I'm fine, Herbert. Fine. Airport was a little hectic. Mr. Clementine rather takes life lightly. I suppose I'm of the dour outlook."
"You're not dour. Hey look, what about your coat. You want the bag, paper bag. The cane,"
"Mr. Clementine was a little short on garments this evening."
"You take this, now Mr. Smith."
"No, no, Herbert. I couldn't possibly."
"I insist. I really do. I don't like the way you look at all. So you're going to take this, whether you like it or not."
"O.K. Take my stick too never know when it comes in handy."
"Might be a little big around the shoulders that's all."
"Herbert will you keep this paper bag in the trunk and lock it."
"Sure."
Smith stood on the curb. In Herbert's dark overcoat. Coming to attention with a smile and wave to Herbert taking the dreadnaught to its deathy garage. Go back then to his wife and nice little home. Full of kitchen smells, of spice and pretty woman. Ah God. Anymore of this and I'll fold up and dissolve on this pavement. Lean on the apple branch. Guess I just want someone to come out of somewhere, reach my ear. Whisper in. George. O George. You're good looking, trustworthy and kind. And mysteriously exciting. Here's my life, love. Let's waltz the rest of the road together, to get wrinkled and grey. May our distinction and flamboyance be mature.
The lobby of The Excelsior. Faint smiles upon some faces. Mr. Park at the ball room door. A wave. A grin. Like some little hometown coming. Need a haircut. Cheap quick trip into the Barber College. Get trimmed by an undergraduate. The evening bristles mowed down. Otherwise I feel terrible. Brave Bonniface of the strange strength. They drag him down by the heels. He makes a pulley arrangement on the other side to go whizzing up again. Footpoundals ablaze. Hang on by fingertips George. Hang on. Shore up. Company Sixty Two. Deploy left flank. Howitzer die fuckers. Command gone to pieces. Under six months constant shelling. And candied parsnips for chow. Must make it to the elevator as if nothing is the matter with me.
Elevator boy sizing up Smith. That's true sonny, the coat doesn't fit me. Her Majesty's door, grey gleaming gun metal. Printed right across my eyes. See a mirage. Dear Sir, we invite you to dance with joy, before we make you hobble with affliction. Yours very truly. The Hoods. Gentlemen, vouchsafe a dance to the tune of the fandango. Open up, Your Majesty. Let me fall in.
"O. Is it."
"George Smith."
"We've met. On the phone. I'm Lettia Calvin. Do please come in. Her Highness is dressing. May I get you a drink."
"I would cherish a glass of beer."
"Of course."
Miss Calvin. I cannot imagine a connection with a certain Cedric. Lady in waiting, blue lilacs in her hair. Where have all the kings gone. I would be their friend. Her Majesty is such a pleasant queen. Made a country out of this room. I'm her footpig. Reach