George, I'm sort of in a hurry. Like to hang on, talk over old times. Sure would like to hear what it was like serving in a foreign army. Must feel good to be a colonel. I said full colonel. Must feel good to be one. Get together won't we. I mean sometime, old sport, when you're all right again. You'll be all right. Thing is not to worry. I said don't worry. Looking at my watch. Got to be dead on time, somewhere. An appointment. I wish you all of God's luck that someday you may be well again. Hope your health comes back. I mean that."
"Beep beep beep."
"Sorry I got to rush. But if you can read my lips I'm saying the cure may be in prayer George. Pray. So long."
"Beep beep beep beep."
"Ha ha, goodbye. Goodbye."
Smith ducking into the inhuman stream. Entering Dynamo House. So many have wives and little ones. Like the lonely have themselves. I've just the strength to climb these stairs. Ugliness brings taunts and jeers from passersby. Elegance invites assault from strangers. Old friendships promote beeps.
As a crap
Can lead
To crutches.
16
Miss Martin sitting at her desk in room 604. Looking up with apprehensive eyes. A tiny smile at the corner of her lips as Smith cleared his throat and said a forceful good morning. In the corner a canvas container stiffly against the wall. Four mornings it's rested there, and while Miss Martin was out purchasing wiener and crumb cake for lunch yesterday I sneaked to take a look and swallowed peering down a narrow bore barrel.
Seems for no reason at all I go beep. But the presence of a lethal instrument makes one tense at any sudden sound in the front office. Miss Martin's been making rapid visits to the water closet feeling sick. Once staying there two hours. Perhaps say a little word before she starts to read her newspaper.
"Miss Martin, the rifle."
"Yes."
"I note it has a hair trigger."
"Yes."
"I know we're a little informal here nowadays."
"You left the files in the woods Mr. Smith. Not me. Don't start blaming me."
"Nothing to do with the files. I like to be easy. Informal."
"If you don't want me around anymore, Mr. Smith say so. Don't think I like all this tension too."
"I'm talking about that gun there."
"What about it."
"That's what I want to know. Miss Martin."
"Well what do you want to know. Mr. Smith."
"Don't be abrupt Miss Martin."
"Look I'm not going to shoot you with the rifle if that's what you're scared of."
"I'm not scared."
"Well what are you asking then."
"Why you have it."
"Don't you know. I'm on a rifle team. I told you. Guess you didn't hear me with all the beer cans banging back there."
Long hard moments. Miss Martin who was putting on fat belligerently, staring into Smith's reasonably honest globes. What harm a few beers. In the office. When one is commander in chief. Big cheese in this two personal outfit. Once ruled a regiment, Miss Martin. Howitzers shelling those positions I figured out in my little wooden shack well behind the lines. A flash focus of the enemy in a field glass. And whamo. But in peace time I take a beer or two while I stare down the clause of a contract and the rebellious beam from my secretary's eye. Morning is no moment for a showdown. Wait till the day wears on. Dim the sparkle in her cheeks. Now apple red. Make a lot of money, gladly lose a lot of friends. Once poor and popular. Now rich and reptile.
"Any letters."
"One registered I signed for. Two threats. And one bill."
"What's the bill."
"Mr. Brandy, funeral director, embalmer-"
"What is it."
"Don't shout. I'm just telling you. What it says here, for the afternoon and evening hire and misuse and additional damages of one hearse."
"O.K. enough, what's the registered one."
Miss Martin with her little efficient opener. Pulling out the paper. From here I can see a black letter head. Miss Martin silently reading.
"What is it, Miss Martin."
"I think you better read this yourself Mr. Smith. Mailman said they've been trying to deliver this for days in Golf Street."
Smith with a thumping heart. Holding the stiff unrelenting paper in such small delicate hands.
Sun Shine & Son
Bicuspid House
Paradise Square
Of This Instrumental.
Mr. George Smith
3 3 Golf Street
And new of Room 604
Dynamo House
Dear Sir,
On a Wednesday of the ipth ultimo, at 3.34 P.M. (approx.) o'clock at Battery Station of the Rapid Transit system of this city you made an unprovoked and savage attack upon our client, Mr. Harry