—No she she didn’t see it, I . . .
—Real milestone shame she missed it, probably electrify your whole teaching career Mister Bast have you talked to Mis . . .
—No I’m, no, no I . . .
—But he’s given up teaching haven’t you Mister Bast, he’s going to give his full time to composing. I think that’s quite courageous, really.
—Certainly is. Those who can do, those who can’t, teach. That it Mister Bast?
—Well I . . .
—Blessed is he who has found his work, let him ask no other sorry, that your knee Mister Bast?
—No I’m afraid it’s mine Mister Gibbs if you’d, if you could sit up a little straighter you didn’t finish Mister Bast, about these dancers you’ve been commissioned to write something for, is it ballet?
—Not no not exactly no, no there are only two of them they want something that’s, something more Spanish they want something with some class this bass player told me who’s a friend of theirs, I mean I guess he’s a friend of hers that’s why he sent me down there something like Bizet he said, they want something like Bizet only not Bizet, if you see what I . . .
—Certainly do yes, like Bizet was condemned for being something like Wagner but not Wagner by people who had never heard Wagner and couldn’t understand Bizet, that it Mister Bast?
—Well I, yes all I meant was . . .
—Yes we, we were talking about Wagner earlier weren’t we Mister Bast . . . she pressed one hand in the other as though to restrain her voice’s tremor in her fingers—about his, the conditions he needed in order to work scents and, and silks to touch and . . .
—Women, and women . . .
—Oh and the garden path yes I forgot, that he couldn’t concentrate if he looked out and let his eyes follow the garden paths because they led to an outside world, to the real . . .
—Led in.
—Pardon?
—They led the God damned outside world in.
—I, I see yes thank you, it’s rather like your studio isn’t it Mister Bast the one you were telling me about, where a vision can exist unfinished with a life of its own till the moment Mister Gibbs do be careful, tipping back like that these chairs are terribly untrustworthy, Mister Bast almost . . .
—Why our view of life’s misleading, Mister Bast.
—What? I don’t . . .
—I said our view of life’s misleading but of course we have bad seats, not some relation to James Bast are you? the composer?
—Well, well yes I . . .
—What I meant, genius does what it must talent does what it can, that the line?
—Mister Gibbs please we, we were talking about Mister Bast’s opera I don’t think you . . .
—What I’m talking about that whining tenor part he gives Ulysses real stroke of genius, comes off as a real sneak the only man who’s ever seen Ulysses clear whole opera’s the God damndest thing I ever . . .
—I don’t think we . . .
—No well that’s, that’s his opera Philoc . . .
—What I’m talking about Philoctetes real stroke of . . .
—No I’m afraid we’re talking about something else Mister Gibbs, an opera this Mister Bast is working on that’s quite . . .
—Like Bizet only not Bizet, thirty-seven years of failure get to die of a broken heart if you’re luckier than the outside world pounding down the garden path on us here now, concentrating what’s left of his dignity trying to keep his teeth in place . . .
—Mister Gibbs please . . .
—Spread the checked cloth over the rusty green table, if the lady and gentleman . . .
—And I thought, wasn’t it just heart disease Bizet died of and Carmen, they produced Carmen before he died and it was a great success . . .
—Three whole months before he died veritable lifetime . . .
—Excuse me sir . . .
—Mister Urquhart? he straightened back from examining the penciled name pinned under the fraying of the false buttonhole,—what can we do for you sir.
—It’s just the, these children, are you with them?
—Well let’s say they’re with us.
—Yes sir well they, the water glasses and the ketchup and, and the napkins if they could settle down at one or two tables, the other customers, to not disturb the other customers . . .
—Understand perfectly Mister Urquhart, refreshing to see a man in your position take his responsibilities seriously must be quite a task managing this establishment, wouldn’t think of . . .
—Yes thank you, thank you . . . he backed away eyes down, went for a fork on the floor behind a pillar.
—If the lady and gentleman wish to take their tea in the . . .
—Please I, I think we should get them together and, oh . . .! she’d turned the profile of her raised chin and, one finger delicately cocked, her hand risen with a white cracker to her parted lips where Bast abruptly thrust a lighted match.
—Oh I, I’m sorry I, I thought you were smoking, did I . . .
—No it’s all right . . . she bit the cracker but her hand came away trembling, like his with the match.—It simply startled me . . .
—But I’m, I’m really ow!
—Oh here, here put the teabag on it it draws out the heat please could one of you, Mister Bast could you tell the children to get their things together . . .
—Oh the, yes . . . he was up,—yes of course . . .
—And Mister Gibbs I think if, if you can excuse us . . .
—No no it’s all right haven’t been this entertained since . . .
—Well would you mind sitting up! simply, simply trying to sit up straight the children have been looking over and they, I’m just afraid they’ll think you’ve been drinking.
—Think I’ve been, listen they don’t know what drinking is I could sit down over there shoot myself through the head they’d think I was dead and expect to see me in school tomorrow Christ they don’t know what, look at them over there look like a God damned settlement house Mister Urquhart creeping around picking up napkin wads like something out of Dickens they . . .
—Is that any reason you should treat him like . . .
—What who Urquhart? I’m God damn it I didn’t invent him look at him, think he hasn’t got a skinful to get through the day in a place like this? That almost distinguished profile that authority in his face but it won’t stay still afraid people will notice his teeth don’t fit, afraid he’ll lose them and we’ll all laugh so he’s telling that sloppy busboy to clean up a table he’s almost finished anyhow keep his authority intact just those God damned teeth can’t relax for an instant he’s . . .
—Please stop it!
—But, but what . . .
She’d caught her lower lip to one side and she shook her head quickly.—I don’t know I, I don’t know . . .
—But . . .
—No please! she caught her hand away, opened the bag in her lap—if you’ll just let me . . .
—Because Christ if you think I’m, you think I think he’s funny out there trying to hang on . . .
—You all do, she said in a voice near a whisper over the handkerchief’s faint edge of lavender—all of you that, that poor man this morning standing in a cradle he kept talking about standing in a cradle, we are now standing in the cradle he said trampling those sharp little leather heels of his who, who ever stood in a cradle no please!
But he held her fallen wrist there—listen! you can’t, always somebody standing in your cradle somebody setting fire to your cracker you can’t . . .
—Well why shouldn’t he! he, even that even lighting my cracker he was trying it’s, I think it was quite dear of him it’s certainly nicer than, than the way you pick on people for trying especially on him when all he wants is to, why you can’t simply, simply act like a grownup . . .
He’d recovered his hand, busied it now digging a matchbox from a pocket.—Never really expected to . . . he dug elsewhere, came up with a broken cigarette.
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—To what, to grow up? she looked away from his hands,—do you think any of them do?
—Does. Any does.
—Pardon?
—Expect to die too, get to come to school next morning tell all their friends about it Christ, the thought of you herding them out across these filthy streets and the train that train, staring through dirty panes at the waste out there train creaking along the sun gone down leaves blowing and the wind, dead leaves blowing you and these kids along from behind . . .
—But I don’t think they . . .
—Indian summer somebody says but I don’t see it just the wind, sun gone down the God damned wind rising dead leaves you and these kids blowing along from behind . . .
—It’s always a sad time of year but, bilt I don’t think . . .
—Sad Christ it’s, life draining out of the sky out of the world it’s . . .
—But it’s quite beautiful too, the fall colors the leaves changing you can’t really say . . .
—See life draining out of everything in sight call that beautiful? End of the day alone on that train, lights coming on in those little Connecticut towns stop and stare out at an empty street corner dry cheese sandwich charge you a dollar wouldn’t even put butter on it, finally pull into that desolate station scared to get off scared to stay on . . . he’d slid the matchbox open, picking out matches to arrange all their heads in one direction—school car waiting there like a, black Reo touring car waiting there like a God damned open hearse think anybody expect to grow up . . .
—But was, this was boarding school? did you . . .
—Telling you that’s what we did there, got to bring these God damned colored leaves in to class try to copy them with crayons . . . he squeezed the matchbox closed—I, I watch you sometimes, he looked up abruptly—your lessons I mean, on television when I don’t have a class and, or when I stay out . . .
—But, but why in the world, my lessons aren’t . . .
—No with the sound off I, I just watch you . . .
—Oh I, I see yes well I think, I wish you wouldn’t stare so I think he has the children together and we really should . . .
—Excuse me ma’am they found this sweater in the ladies’ toilet, I think one of your kiddies . . .
—Yes yes thank you so much Mis, Mister Urquhart I think we’re leaving in a moment yes, thank you . . . she pressed the handkerchief to the corner of an eye, snapped her bag closed—we must leave Mister Gibbs no please, you don’t need to come with us I don’t think it would be . . .
—Did you see my sweater Mrs Joubert? It’s like red with . . .
—It’s right here Linda just, here just put it on so you won’t lose it again go over and tell, ask Mister Bast to get everyone together we’re leaving in a moment . . . she pushed her chair back.—I’ll just be a minute . . .
—Do you, wait . . .!
—No please I, I just felt faint . . .
—Yes well here let me . . .
—I’m all right no it’s, it’s just sitting so long . . . she steadied her hand on the back of a chair.—You might help Mister Bast . . .
—But . . . the hand he’d raised in support fell empty and he looked after her, after her legs lost among legs of tables and chairs as he gained his own with a wince, came lifting one foot along like a weight—say, Mister Bast . . .?
—What? Oh, yes I think they’re all ready what’s the matter.
—Nothing foot went to sleep, listen . . .
—No I mean Mrs Joubert where is she, I don’t think she feels well she’s . . .
—What I’m trying to tell you she’s out on her feet hardly knows it herself, look . . .
—No but do you know what she’s . . .
—No and she doesn’t either nobody does look Mister Bast something you should know, in spite of its appetizing symmetry woman’s body’s an absolute God damned chaos spend their lives at the mercy of their bodies, whatever it is she can’t handle this bunch for the rest of the day I’d try to myself but I can’t even count them so listen, I just told her you’d offered to take them over, get them home on the next train and . . .
—Yes well, well all right but what about her she’s . . .
—Be fine look best authority there is says just get those breasts to stop shaking we may be able to collect some fragments of the afternoon I’ll concentrate on that you just tell her you’re taking this bunch over, she’ll protest you insist don’t be so God damned deferential just take over, women like that . . .
—Yes but . . .
—Where we going now hey . . .
—Where’s everybody going hey where’s Mrs Joubert . . .
—Over by where it says desserts come on . . .
—Look you’re going with Mister Bast . . . he came trailing them across the floor kicking a foot out as though to shake them loose—go wait with Mister Bast . . . and he’d shed the last of them when he reached her sitting the edge of one of those chairs by where it said desserts rummaging her bag.—Are you all right?
—Yes but wait there was something I . . .
—All taken care of relax, Mister Bast just . . .
—That’s it yes I, you don’t have a piece of note paper . . .
—Plenty of it relax . . . out came bits of newspaper, cards, paper scraps—look Mister Bast just offered to, here how’s this . . .
—I don’t, no it says Clocker Lawton’s Suggestions I don’t think it quite, it’s for a note to a broker you see, I . . .
—Wait here here’s a piece look, Mister Bast just offered to take . . .
—Beware women who blow on knots is that, that’s nothing you want to keep? It’s written on the . . .
—No no I’ll remember it look, Mister Bast is . . .
—Oh Mister Bast that note I said I’d give you to Mister Crawley, before I forget it . . .
—Yes well thank you but if . . .
—No go ahead plenty of time relax, Mister Bast kind enough to offer to take these kids off your hands get them home on the next train I’ll just get a . . .
—Oh but no . . . the pen stopped,—the school bus is meeting the four seventeen they, they wouldn’t be able to get home if you leave now they, we were going to a money museum . . .
—No trouble is it Bast turn them loose in the money mu . . .
—I had the address here it’s a, in a bank somewhere . . .
—Know right where it is don’t you Mister Bast let’s get them together here two, three stay together there . . .!
—You’re, you’re sure it’s all right Mister Bast it’s awfully kind I, I just feel . . .
—It’s yes it’s fine it’s, fine yes . . .
—And here’s, dear it does look awfully shaky doesn’t it I’m sure Mister Crawley will understand though and don’t let him alarm you, he’s rather a bear but I know he’ll be glad to help with your aunts’ stock you will get them home on the four seventeen?
—Yes and thank you, I . . .
—Wait yes six, seven there were twelve I think, Linda? you have your sweater? Nine where’s, who’s that man those boys are sitting with, there by the phones he looks . . .
—Businessman name of Slomin perfectly respectable, feel a little steadier now? This way . . .
—And Mister Bast thank you again . . .
—Hey Mister Bast where we going . . .
—Where’s everybody going hey.
—Could I have a dime Mister Bast?
—All right stay together now, boys? Go over and get those two boys by the, never mind wait right here . . .
—Hey look there goes Mrs . . .
—I said wait there!
—Oh hi Mister Bast, where we . . .
—What are you doing in the phone booth come along . . .
—I just wanted to get the number off it wait, wait let me get my stuff . . .
—I said come along! Now where’s, all right stop pushing, now where’s . . .
—Bast look, sorry . . . his arm was seized from behind,—if
you’ve got a couple of dollars for a cab . . .
—But, yes but wait what did she mean about a money museum she, here, she said a bank somewhere but . . .
—Look there’s a bank out here every two blocks every God damned one of them’s a money museum forget it, take them to a movie and Bast? Didn’t mean to be that unpleasant look I’ve got to talk to you some time when I’m . . .
—Yes well, yes whenever you . . .
—We going with you Mister Bast?
—Like where’s he going hey.
—The movies hey, we going to the movies?
—Come on look out, here comes the manager . . .
—One at a time in the revolving door, one at a . . . I said one!
—There’s a movie hey. Over there.
—Is that it over there Mister Bast? Where it says playthings of what’s that hey.
—A carte blanche invitation to ecstasy . . .
—Is that it Mister Bast?
But he stood staring in the other direction where the street’s traffic stopped for a cab exchanging fares until its door slammed and their heads, inclining, showed through the rear window, and everything moved again, and the wind picked up a little from behind.
—Look. You can see her tits.
—You cannot they pasted something over them.
—So? peel it off, hey look at this. Relive the pulsating moment of climax . . .
—No subject is taboo! No act is forbidden! What’s taboo hey. Hey. Look at this one. A generation in heat . . .
—Look at that pair of knockers!
—Excuse me . . .
—What?
—I thought, have we met somewhere? My name is Gall . . .
—I don’t, not that I remember I . . .
—Hey! Women wrestling in a tub of eels hey.
—Look at this one what they’re doing. What are they doing?
—Karate.
—Naked?
—They may not let you take them in.
—Here? Oh, no I wasn’t, we were just looking for . . .
—There’s a Western up in the next block, want to take them to that? I’ve got to kill some time till four o’clock anyhow, maybe I’ll remember where I know you from . . .
—We’re not seeing these women wrestling these eels?