Read A Fairy Tale of New York Online

Authors: J. P. Donleavy

A Fairy Tale of New York (26 page)

"No."

"Well I'll be damned. Let me take a look. That big grey job."

"Yes."

"That's custom made. That's not yours.''

"Well let's say I just have certain things available to me.''

"I was never deceived by you, Cornelius. Always thought you were one of these ivy league kids from a rich background. The neighbors are going to think you're somebody big. Gives me a kick to see that parked out there. With these sons of bitches around here getting a load of it. Ah, Jean, you've met the genius."

"Yes I have. Howard push the table over a little for Mr Christian. Few crackers here too, but don't want you to spoil any appetites."

Mrs How, sinews of her arm flexing as she puts down the tray. Came with a sheaf of paper to write my notes. Blew the gaff right off the bat soon as I saw her strange beauty at the opening screen door. Sent a flush of blood between my legs. Pronto made me say yes I am.

"Cornelius let me tell you. Chrissakes.''

''Don't keep using that word Howard.''

"I'm excited. Hey, feel at home, take your jacket off Cornelius."

"No. That's all right, thanks.''

"Well anyway I think you are some kind of genius Cornelius. The whole front page of this morning's paper. Happened just yesterday afternoon. Twenty squad cars came roaring down the street. Wowie. The whole block surrounded. Isn't that right Jean. They went tip that guy's crazy paving with guns drawn. You know what was going on in there, you'll never believe it, I mean you will believe it. A god damn twenty thousand gallon still, just what you said. Damn thing's copper, two stories high, took out the floor, pipes and vats going all over the place. Remember once saying, didn't I Jean, that the guy must be lush by the smell sometimes came from his house. Cornelius, how did you know."

"Just said the first thing that came into my mind.''

"Well I'm going to leave you two boys while I feed my two boys and girl and fix dinner.''

Mrs How wiping her hands on her apron. A big blue leafed flower with a yellow center. Got to stop the thoughts I'm thinking. Avert my eyes from the tanned silky smoothness of her face. And lips big and soft. Thought I saw her lick them as she came into the room. In fact I know damn tootin she did. And her ball bearing ass swivel as she went out.

"Well you know Cornelius, I tell you, I don't mind Italians but I'm sure glad to get rid of that wop. He's the kind of guy who gets over emotional and kills rather than discusses. I was becoming a candidate for depression like the guy across the street. I mean he's still smiling, but he doesn't know that I know he's getting electroconvulsive therapy. This wop next door wouldn't mow his lawn or stop his god damn killer mutt from coming over and manuring ours. Would you believe it, last month he made one of the biggest contributions to our church building fund. Maybe when the grass on a guys lawn gets long you should get suspicious right away. Hey how about a little shot of vodka in your iced tea. I really feel that way today.''

Howard pouring into Christian's held up glass. Sprigs of mint roll over, sink and rise again between the cubes of ice. Oily whorls eddy in the tan liquid.

"Well Cornelius. So here you are. Driving around in a chauffeured car. Is that address of yours over in the west side a blind or something.''

"Kind of."

"You're just full of surprises. Belong to the Game Club Quell tells me. And I hear the tennis and squash courts they got are really something. Like to take up that game of squash. Jean says, I got a bit of a spare tire. By the way, I like what you're wearing."

"Thank you."

"You know Cornelius I'd like to brush up my personal defence. Time was when I came home in the evening I used to put my eyes down and imagine there were all kinds of wooded acres around me and no other houses. Now with this guy with a gat sneaking out of your shrubbery to take your god damn valuables off you and shoot you dead on your own front lawn, all I do is tremble around from the garage. I'd like to know how to stomp that son of a bitch."

Howard How socking a fist into the palm of his hand. When I said I liked brandy he said let's go out and get the best. Backed out of his garage in his station wagon to the street. Where I said let me do the honors. And we piled into the limo and Glen cruised us along the winding streets. Howard squirming around in his seat.

"God dang Cornelius if this don't beat all and tickle me pink."

Parked across the street from a local store. Where a real old timer was stocking good brandy and still slicing ham with a knife. And back again past these houses where it looks as if nobody lives. To Howard's den panelled in pine. A collection of pipes he never smokes. Said his street didn't curve as much as the others. But it had its share of big shots.

"Come on Cornelius, let me play you some stuff. I got some real good recordings of real top notch composers. While Jean's putting the kids to bed.''

How blaring out the music. Wants me to really get a load of the fine acoustics. And bruise my ear drums. Took a pee in the powder room inside the front door. Green fluffy rug on the black and white tiled floor. Big H on all the towels, light blue and pink flowered. A basin with two soaps to use. I freshened up as evening came with a cooling darkness. Little kids in off the streets. Lights on. And I guess machine guns ready. People moving in the kitchens of other houses. And Howard stirring his special drink. Kept mixed and waiting in the refrigerator all afternoon. Pours me a glass and sits down feeling his way with a hand behind him, all changed to a clean white shirt and loafers with a mahogany gleam. A shelf of books on business management. Three on fishing.

"Cornelius, it's kind of good to have you come out here like this. Meet my wife and kids. Hear the katydids out there. Couple of years ago we even had a bull frog croaking. That's what a man sweats in the rat race for, so his kids can have it a little better than he did. But you wonder sometimes. Two days ago there was a praying mantis out there on the front lawn. A car full of passing roughnecks over from Woodhaven see it and they stop. And what do you think they did. They dropped a god damn rock on it. That's what they did. Bight on top of one of the most beneficial of mankind's insects. I went in the house and cried. I mean what do you do these days faced with the dilemma of what's right and wrong. What do you tell your own kids. I mean how are they to come to grips with the uncertainties. As a young guy in today's world do you have an answer Cornelius.''

"Yes. Everybody should get down and scrub their floors. And their stoops. Eight out to the sidewalks. Also keep their ass holes clean. And carry a machine gun.''

"Gee I'm a little nonplussed by your candour Cornelius. You're not a kind of subversive are you. You know the other day, what you said about your own father. That hit me hard. But I 've been thinking too. About what you said about Mr Mott. It's true, he comes into a room and says what the hell he wants to say. With no regard for somebody's feelings. I bought a pair of golf shoes once in a lunchtime sale. Was trying them on when he walked into my office. Didn't even wait for me to explain. Says where did you get those crazy pointy two tone shoes. As if I was wearing them all the time. It wasn't the way he said crazy, it was the way he said those words pointy two tone. I was disparaged. Well let's drink to that one."

Howard in fluffy red socks. The mahogany lustre of his loafers. Putting his hand to his straight sided glass and tossing back the hootch. A lady working in the kitchen with a dark complexion. Standing over the stove. Gave me a little nod and smile as I peeked in the serving hatch. Gave her the hi sign of one undesirable to another.

"Guess Cornelius, it's come to the fact that you can take a shower, shave, comb your hair, put on a clean shirt, get in a new car. And not one thing makes you look like a bum. But you stop to watch a red winged black bird in a vacant lot, and suddenly a squad car sails up to question you. Police tell you to drive on, you're loitering. I'm not knocking our way of life. It's got to be like that I guess with some of the best homes these days being shot up and their inmates murdered. Maybe something has gone wrong with our values. You soul search and ask yourself what kind of an assessment can I make as a dad to tell my kids. That they're going to grow up into a holocaust of dirty deals. I can't tell them that. It's not that I'm asking my kids Cornelius to get on their knees at night and chant god bless America. But holy shit, pardon my f rench, when are we going to emerge into a calm sunny peace of the kind that this sort of neighborhood should have. Chrissakes you wake up one morning and you're living next to a distillery. You know don't you, there isn't another living soul I could talk to like this. Hey let me kind of freshen up your drink there kiddo. Libate a bit."

How pouring out his pineapple flavoured mixture, stretching back in his chair with his glass raised towards a corner of the room. End of his cigarette lights up as he sucks in a lungful of smoke.

"See that fishing rod, Cornelius. Well strictly between us. You know what my ambition is. To one day tell them to shove the whole god damn Mott empire. And buy myself a little old general store somewhere way out in the sticks and just go fishing. And not be troubled by all these conflicting emotional pulls. There, there, did you hear that. That's that bullfrog. Croaking. He's come back. Isn't that sound wonderful.''

Two little sandy haired boys and a tiny dark big eyed little girl. In a procession. For a hand shake. And wave goodnight in their matching blue kimonos and yellow slippers from the top of the stairs. And with candles lit on the dining table, Mrs How in a long clinging mauve gown.

"There she is Cornelius, isn't my wife something."

Asparagus and shrimp salad. Howard smilingly pouring out a bottle of white wine. And smashing back his own concoction between sips. Tipsily saying, Cornelius, you got to stay the night. Send that chauffeur away. Be my revered guest. We got a whole god damn rambling guest and bathroom right in there next to my den. And I went out. Looking left and right in the dark for any guy toting a gat. Told Glen who was snoring fast asleep behind locked doors in the limo's air conditioning, to head back to Manhattan. And he said Mrs Sourpuss's instructions were to wait, to take you home.

"And my instructions are, and I won't god damn well tell you twice, is to beat it."

''You bet Mr Christian. You bet."

Nice to wipe your hands of a chauffeur. And watch the shadowy limo blazing red rear lights glide softly away down the street.\ Come back up on this hilly little lawn. See the domestic warmth glowing in the windows. Hear a door close across through the trees. And a nervous shout. Is that you Hector.

A decanter of milk on the white table cloth. Howard said it put the fire out when the hootch in his belly got hot. Mrs How handing round the salads and choice of two home made dressings. Heaped bowl of steaming corn cobs. Plate of sliced red and yellow tomatoes. Sprinkled with herbs and wiped with garlic. All out of Howard's garden. As the bugs bang against the screens to get to the candle light.

"Cornelius, Jean's my own real pal. Aren't you Jean.''

''Howard you 're drinking too much.''

"No I'm not, this is a celebration. Like hot dickety dick, it's Saturday and I'm going to tie one on tonight. Eight Cornelius. And we're going to scrub down our front stoop. Just like you say. And I'm going to ask that policeman over there if we can try some of that wop's moonshine. What about that Cornelius."

"Yes fine, Mr How."

"Ah Cornelius I hope you've still got the old umph pa pa. And none of this Mr How business. Now you just chew off them there golden kernels from that cob. Use your fingers. I know when I hear the old umph pa pa from somebody. And Europe, Cornelius, has taken away your old umph pa pa."

''Howard what have you been drinking.''

"Umph pa pa, that's what. Good old pal, Jean. And Cornelius. My boy Cornelius. Boy do you get old Quell hot under the collar. I love the way he comes fuming in to me sometimes shaking and quivering, get that damn Christian out of my department, he says. I keep telling him I can't do a thing, that you're one of Mr Mott's proteges and very close, really close and an old, old friend of the family/'

"Howard stop, that's not fair to talk like this about the office that way to Mr Christian. You 've had too much to drink.''

"Now Jean, what are we scared of. Good old pal, Jean. Prom a good old Virginia family Cornelius, on her mother's side that is. Married beneath herself. Just like her mother did."

"Have some of your milk Howard.''

"No Jean I will not have some of my milk. I will have some of my brew. How's the boy Cornelius. How's the boy. Imagine a whole distillery. I called John my broker. Told him. Said John what about the property value. He said Howard, don't worry that could be an invitation to serious industry right on your doorstep.''

"And you stole that ladder, Howard."

"I did like hell, I just carried it over to us, that's all. Make something for the kids to climb on. They won't be needing it again."

"That was stealing."

"What. From a bunch of crooks. Besides the cop on duty said I could take it. Sure, I slipped him a couple of bucks. It was being used illicitly to climb among the wop's god damn pipes."

''And don't say wop. That's not nice.''

"Wop wop, wilyo, ginney. I mean that damn guy has slandered the neighborhood. But boy I'll give him one thing, he minded his own god damn business. In fact he was the best neighbor we've ever had. Had kind of fine characteristics in his face. Like Cornelius there. Not like some of the places we've lived with the next door guys behaving like tarzans out in their backyards trying to mow their lawns in two seconds to make an impression on Jean.''

"You've got such an imagination Howard."

"What about that son of a bitch who swung off on the end of his god damn clothes line from his bedroom window in leopard skin tights."

"He was sick Howard."

"He was a god damn peeping torn that's what he was. And we had to move away. And that other bastard standing naked at his window every morning so you could see him.''

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