‘Yeah. Could you hand me over a bottle of that champagne. And take a few of those strawberries and put them out on the window sill. The pigeons will really appreciate them out of season.’
‘Why of course.’
‘Hey and while I open this we may need an extra glass from the bathroom.’
The window opening. The nurse putting a handful of strawberries out on the window sill. Schultz unzipping a strip of gold lead foil from around the top of the champagne bottle. Twisting the little wire loop to unfasten the wire cap. Grasping the cork and twisting. Jesus it’s in tight. Give it every ounce of strength or else this nurse who is no beauty but not half bad either is going to think I’m some kind of weakling.
‘My god, Mr Schultz. O dear.’
The cork exploding out of the bottle hitting Schultz in the eye. His head rocked back on the pillow with the impact. The champagne flowing out over the bedcovers. Schultz groaning hand over his eye. The nurse mopping up with a towel taking the bottle and putting it on the side table. The nurse examining Schultz’s eye.
‘O dear you did get a bang. Eye is a quite a little bit bloodshot. Can you see Mr Schultz.’
‘Yeah, a little blurred. But the sight’s slowly coming back. God damn cork is lethal. I’m OK thanks.’
Schultz reaching to the side table and two handed lifting the champagne bottle up over his head. Tipping it to pour some of the bubbling wine down on the top of his curly black locks.
‘Are you all right, Mr Schultz.’
‘Yeah. I’m just sloshing a bit of this over my head and baptizing myself a French Catholic from fucking Rheims. Because I need a religion to save me from any more fucking disaster. And pardon my French. And if you hold over those two glasses I’ll fill them.’
‘Are you sure Mr Schultz you are all right. Let me see your eye again.’
‘I can thank God for one thing nurse. He’s already landed me in the hospital where treatment is handy.’
‘O dear I suppose your vitreous humour got rather shaken up. The eye is awfully red and it seems it’s already a tiny bit black.’
‘That’s from a recent black eye.’
‘Mr Schultz your hair is rather dripping a bit with champagne. Let me get a towel.’
‘I’m OK. Just let’s fill these glasses.’
‘O I can’t have any champagne.’
‘Sure you can.’
‘I can’t, not on duty. Matron would be furious. Just let me dry you off a little. Goodness you do have the most marvellous thick long black silky curls. That any girl would give her eye teeth for.’
‘My Prague grandfather. He had big black curls he wore down to his shoulders. It’s kind of like an ancient family tradition.’
‘O how nice. Are you a Czechoslovakian Mr Schultz.’
‘Yeah in blood and spirit. My ancestors knocked around Prague for centuries. But I was born and brought up out of context in America, so to speak. Hey nurse. Look out the window. Look at that. There are the pigeons. Jesus. Isn’t that fucking wonderful if you’ll pardon my French, they’re eating up them strawberries like they were insatiable. Hey put a little bit of this champagne in a saucer. We’ll give them a little party to enjoy themselves.’
The nurse, with her own long curly mousy blonde locks of hair taking a saucer off a tea tray, filling it with champagne. Opening up the window. The pigeons fluttering away into the air. The sounds of London blowing into the room with a cold breeze. The window closing. The pigeons returning and picking at the strawberries again. And dipping and filling their beaks with champagne. Throwing their heads back as they gargle it savouringly down their throats.
‘Mr Schultz, please let me change your pillow case. It’s also wet with champagne.’
‘No don’t worry. The dampness is fine and I like the smell.’
‘Well I’m afraid Matron wouldn’t like it if she found out.’
‘Hey don’t worry about Matron, honey. She’s a real sweetie pie.’ ‘No she’s not quite, Mr Schultz. Matron runs this hospital with a rod of iron. With every junior doctor and even a few consultants in trembling fear of her. And I don’t want her rod of iron to land across my backside.’
‘Hey tell me are you married, honey.’
‘No.’
‘Is Matron.’
‘I think she’s been divorced a couple of times.’
‘What. Wow. Maybe with her rod of iron she whacked the husbands across the ass. Hey come on. A little champagne never hurt anyone. This stuffs the best there is in the whole world. Look at the pigeons. They love it. Holy shit that fucking pigeon is wobbling already. It’s Roederer crystal honey, and with a few grains of caviare, the vitamins alone will transform you.’
‘Ah but what makes you think I need transforming Mr Schultz.’ ‘Jesus not you. Me. Jesus, hey let’s give the pigeons a few grains of caviare. Not too much. Just a few. I don’t want them to concentrate too much on the champagne. Jesus which is suddenly taking all the pain out of my life.’
‘Mr Schultz I can’t really stay here like this having a party.’
‘Hey come on this is the private most expensive part of the hospital. You got to keep the patients comfortable and happy. Come on. It’s way after eight. The hospital day is over. Here let me fill your glass, and scoop up the caviare. It’s beluga, honey. That means vitamin D with a big D which stands for delicious.’
‘I must admit this is the most wonderful champagne I’ve ever had. And this is the first caviare I ever tasted. And I do like it.’
‘More where that came from. Hey jesus how them old pigeons doing. Wow. And do they love strawberries out of season. Hey isn’t that sweet. They’re fucking well billing and cooing in love out there. Hey jesus but wobbling drunk as skunks.’
‘What’s a skunk Mr Schultz.’
‘That’s a stinking animal we have back over there in America. Only some of them are human. Open that jar of peaches. Open the figs. And that jar, chicken in aspic. But before you do that, just pass me some more of the caviare. Go on have more. And hand me that other fucking bottle. And pardon my French again. Momma meeo honey. Don’t let me knock my head off with the cork this time.’
Schultz undoing the smooth gold lead wrapper and unzipping the wire cap. Pointing the bottle at the ceiling as the cork explodes and hits the spider’s web. The cork falling and bouncing off the nurse’s head.
‘Now I’m hit Mr Schultz. O dear. I really really mustn’t have any more.’
‘Come on honey. Hey jesus look at that will ya. Two more fucking pigeons have joined the party out there. Hey everybody is getting the message. O my god this is fucking miraculously good. Didn’t I tell you.
Wow. Isn’t this the most beautiful stuff in God’s creation that these god damn guys have sent me. Six wonderful bottles.’
‘What guys Mr Schultz.’
‘The guys back at the office. Hey nurse you know, you’re pretty. But pretty young aren’t you.’
‘Well I’m old enough to nearly be a nurse.’
‘Hey you’re not a nurse.’
‘No I’m a student nurse.’
‘OK let’s drink to your graduation. Come on. Take more than a sip.’
‘Mr Schultz this is most irregular. I’m on duty. There could be another patient buzzing me.’
‘Come on be fucking irregular for Christ’s sake. You’re only young once in your life.’
‘Well let me just check and peek down the hall and see if my desk light’s blinking.’
‘Sure honey. Do that. Hey jesus christ the fucking pigeons. There are six hogging in on the party out there. Gate crashers. Christ don’t let them run out of strawberries. Throw them a few more.’
Giggling nurse returning from the door and opening up the window. As the pigeons flutter up and away and the breeze rushes in. Putting out more strawberries. Closing the window the pigeons fluttering back again.
‘Hey god look at them go gobbling them strawberries. They never could have
guessed they were going to get a feast like that.’
‘I’ve never seen pigeons eat strawberries before, Mr Schultz.’
‘Sure they love delicious delicacies just like us. Jesus I wish this champagne wasn’t so good or else I’d give more to the pigeons. Shit a whole cupful is enough anyway. Now honey where are you from.’ ‘Croydon.’
‘No shit. They used to have an airport there.’
‘Well long before I was born.’
‘O boy don’t remind me of age.’
‘But you’re not old Mr Schultz.’
‘Well maybe not enough to be your father, honey. But I ain’t no spring chicken anymore. Although boy right now I feel like a spring chicken just fucking hatched.’
‘You’re in the theatre, Mr Schultz.’
‘Yeah. That’s right.’
‘We had a most famous man in here just before you in the theatre. You must know a lot of actors and actresses and exciting people.’
"Yeah well you have to rub elbows a bit.’
'Did it take you a long time to get where you are.’
'Yeah. But hey honey let’s talk about you. What’s a nice girl like you doing nursing in a hospital like this. I mean you could have been in ballet or something. You’re a dancer.’
'How did you know that.’
'The calves of your legs honey.’
'I did. I danced. And wasn’t good enough.’
Hey come on. None of that stuff not good enough. Maybe you didn’t just get your lucky break. Fill the glasses. And let’s keep being generous with the champagne.’
'It’s wonderful but I really am feeling this Mr Schultz in the head.’ 'Come on, call me Sigmund. Or Siggy. Hold it. O my god honey. O my god. Jesus quick open up the fucking window. One of the pigeons just keeled over. Christ don’t let him fall off the fucking sill to his death.’
Nurse jumping off the edge of the bed, rushing to open the window. Reaching to grab the lone, half comatose pigeon into the room. Schultz sitting bolt upright in bed, craning to see the stricken bird.
'Just put him in that empty box there, till he sobers up. Christ some poor pigeons can’t hold their drink. He could have a hangover. Now honey I'd love some more. I better wash my hands and just let me peek down the hall at my light first.’
‘Hey jesus honey don’t worry about how things are down the hall. We got a drunk pigeon in here now flapping around. Wrap him up in a towel before he hurts himself. Jesus, it could be two gorgeously drunk pigeons the way I’m feeling.’
‘O dear, my light, it’s flashing.’
Jesus well see what the fuck’s the matter honey and hurry back.’ Wow. No wonder they say champagne is medicinal. It’s fucking magic. My balls feel fine. I feel fine. And that fucking conked out pigeon over there feels nothing. I’ll call you Jorricks after my butler. Hey you Jorricks over there. You drank too fucking much champagne. Jesus, boy, so have I. Wow I can’t read the numbers to dial the telephone. To say hello this is Schultz, and everybody is invited to the pigeon party. What an idea. His Lordship and I got to have a fucking flock of pigeons at our big party too. Jesus they could go shitting all over the upholstery of the theatre seats. Who gives a shit. Except christ that’s the first theatre I’m going to buy. So I give a shit. So what’s the worry we’ll put diapers on the pigeons. Or we’ll have a big special cage with sunflower seeds and champagne for them. But jesus if they are anything like these pigeons they’ll all be sozzled anyway knocked out all over the place. Jeez the guys sure sent me over the very unbelievable fucking best of everything. I swear on the ancient bones of my rabbi ancestors that this is all I’m ever going to drink into eternity. The gorgeous quality of this bloody vintage exquisite crystal bloody brut champagne is for the gods. And I’m the god. Who’s got a drunk pigeon. And Cynthia is the student nurse. Who is sure entering into the spirit of things. And jesus whose fingers I could feel in my hair. Giving me the first recent testicular unpainful tingle. That fast gave me a rod of iron. I like her sense of hygiene, washing her hands. Holy mackerel. Nurses. Why the fuck I never thought of them before. So much for being healthy and never having to go to the hospital. And missing all the joy and fun. Because they are the most beautiful fucking class of human beings. Trained to give instead of always fucking taking. Hey old pigeon, jesus you nearly broke your ass falling off the window sill, don’t try now to get up on your feet and flap. Calm down. We’re all of us tight as hell in this room. Soused, canned, plastered, potted or as his Lordship would say, pissed. And in Yiddish we’re shikker. Jesus, the time. The curtain at the theatre has just gone up for the second act. And I am shikker. And this is my fucking second act. And who gives a fuck anymore about Louella. Matron and I are going to have a big fucking dinner. Then a big fucking fuck. I’m going to show her such a good time she’s going to drop her rod of iron right on her toes. Jesus, maybe on my fucking toes. Hey where is my pigeon friend Jorricks. Shit he got out of the towel. There he is pecking at my figs. Jesus the other pigeons have come back. They’re looking in the window. They see Jorricks in here feasting. Jesus we got to be fair to pigeons everywhere and let them in. Before they start thinking we don’t like them and are leaving them out there. We should have them all in here. So they don’t get cold and drunk out there. That’s it. It’s Schultz’s pigeon party. Folks. Everyone’s fucking invited. Even that fucker Binky. Who’s soon going to learn that nobody but nobody, you bastard, puts on a bigger or better show than Sigmund Franz Isadore. And that’s gospel. By Schultz. Christ this is like sudden sunshine suddenly beaming into my life. I could live here. Only this room could be costing a fucking fortune. And more than the Dorchester. Hey jesus Al. I’m sorry to hear you could still be dying at this very second. I really do wish we were still friends. Like I’m making with the pigeons. And if you ever recovered, that we could still shoot the shit together again. If you weren’t all the time such an old grandmother. And if you didn’t have to have such a glorious girlfriend. That I had without warning had to end up adoring. Jesus that’s all fucking water under the bridge. What I need right now is more fucking champagne down the throat.
‘Hey honey. What kept you so long. Jesus Jorricks the pigeon got out of his towel and he still can’t walk a straight line.’
‘I had to assist a patient with a bedpan across the hall. And he did smell the champagne on my breath.’
‘Who honey would know that much smelling it on your breath.’ ‘Well he’s supposed to be someone very important like an army general.’
‘Well holy shit honey. I don’t know about army generals but jesus help Jorricks back into his towel. Before he trips like he just did on his face again. And open the window and let his friends in. They all have fucking rejected looks on their faces.’
‘My god Mr Schultz I can’t let all these pigeons into the room.’ ‘Hey come on it’s a winter cold fucking night out there. Let the guys in. And there are a few strawberries left.’
‘How do you know they are all guys Mr Schultz. They could be all girls.’
‘Jesus touche honey touche, you’re right. I could have a harem in here. Hey come over here a second. That’s it. Sit down. The way I see it right now, this is the pigeon party honey. And I’m giving another big party soon and I’d like you to come. Hey, do a few steps and movements for me.’
‘O I couldn’t. I’m even slightly dizzy.’
‘Come on. Give this old half sozzled boy a treat.’
‘Well all right. Let me jam the back of the chair under the door knob in case somebody comes.’
‘You do that honey. Hey. Hey. Boy jesus honey. That’s all right. You’ve got your own nice individual style. Maybe it’s a little more modern than it is classic. But I like it. Very nice that very delicate shift of the hip. And dipping the leg like that is what we call in show biz, the icing on the frisson. You couldn’t show me that a little better, giving you a little more freedom of movement with that uniform off could you. Hey I know already. Regulations and Matron says you can’t take off your uniform
in front of the patients, else you get your ass whacked with her rod of iron.’
‘Well. Maybe. I guess I could commit sacrilege. Maybe I’ll just have another little sip of this lovely champagne first.’
‘Sure. That’s it. We’ll both drink up. And commit sacrilege. This is Sigmund Franz Schultz’s pigeon party. Holy shit. Hold it honey. Jesus another fucking pigeon has just keeled over out on the window sill. Quick get him in. Quick. The fucker will plummet. Sorry maybe it’s a lady pigeon. Jesus another one too has just capsized. That’s three drunk fucking pigeons. Get them in. To safety.’
‘Mr Schultz. No I really can’t. I’ll get sacked, filling the room with pigeons.’
‘Honey you’re already hired. By me. I’ve just cast you in the chorus line of my show. We’ll have you an Equity card in no time. Don’t worry about being sacked. What’s your name.’
‘Cynthia. And are you really really in the theatre.’
‘Believe me. That’s why my balls are all bandaged up. O K Cynthia. We’re going to have a good fucking time. Sorry I mean a fucking good time. Just you and me. Douse the lights. Hey wrap up Jorricks again, he’s loose. Now be a good wonderful girl. While I fill your glass, take in the other two pigeons and wrap them up.’
Cynthia taking in the pigeons. Wrapping them in face towels with their heads out. Washing her hands in the bathroom. Tiptoeing to the door taking the chair away, opening it and looking down the hall. Closing the door. Dousing the lights. The night glow of London coming in the window. Three pigeons wrapped up cosy in the corner. Three still left looking bleary eyed in the window. Cynthia undoing her uniform. Lifting up her white slip over the blue cap on her head. White long stockings on a pair of long muscled legs. Unlacing and kicking off her white shoes.
‘Hey honey. That’s lovely. Lovely. You got gorgeous rhythms. Style. Life. Holy jesus christ. You’re a really jolly sweetie pie. I know just the spot for you in the chorus line. Come on just take the rest off.’
‘O god Mr Schultz. This is a hospital. I sit my finals in just two months.’ ‘I know honey it’s a hospital. To cure people. And shit honey, jeez, am I getting cured. In fact I am fucking cured. Of everything.’