The old man said, “A Fleet man, huh? I was in the Navy myself, war before last. You just wait there.”
He went back and searched and searched and finally came out with a dusty, tattered text that had been lying around for ages. “Here’s a book called Basic Arithmetic Including Addition, Multiplication and Division With a Special Section on Commercial Arithmetic and Stage Acts” He opened the yellowed pages, “It was published in Philadelphia in 1879. It’s got all sorts of tricks in it like adding a ten-digit column of thirty entries by inspection. Old-time bookkeeper stuff. Lot of stage tricks: they used to go on stage and write numbers and do complicated examples upside down leaning over a blackboard and get the answer in three seconds and the audience would flip out. Mr. Tatters said to throw it out but I sort of thought I should send it to a museum. Since they passed the law that kids had to use calculators in class, nobody is interested in it anymore. But as you’re a navy man like myself you can have it.”
Heller paid and the old man wrapped up the books into two more huge packages. Another two hundred pounds of books. I expected Heller to heft them up and walk off. It disappointed me when he found four hundred pounds too cumbersome. I’m sure he could have, with some strain, walked off with them. He had them call him a taxi. The old man even got a dolly and helped him load up. Heller thanked him.
“Don’t throw that book away,” said the old man at the curb. “I don’t think there’s a soul in this country knows how to do it anymore. I don’t think they even remember it ever existed. When you’re through with it, give it to a museum!”
“Thanks for piping the side!” said Heller and the taxi drove away leaving the old man waving at the curb.
Code break. “Piping the side!” It must be some Voltarian Fleet term. No, wait a minute. I had never heard the term on Voltar. But Heller wouldn’t know Earth terms like that. Or would he? The Voltarian Fleet doesn’t use pipes. A lot of them use puffsticks. Only Earth people smoke pipes. It was moving into the New York rush hour so I had a lot of time to work on this. I got as far as Earth sailors as well as spacers have a lot to do with whores when my concentration was interrupted.
A houseman was wheeling all that book tonnage across the lobby and Vantagio popped out of his office like some miniature jack-in-the-box.
He stared at the packages, tore a piece of paper off a corner and opened a rucksack to verify they were books. “They accepted you!” He let out a wheeze of relief and mopped his face with a silk handkerchief. He waved the houseman on and pushed Heller into his office.
“You did it!” said Vantagio.
“I think you did it,” said Heller.
Vantagio looked at him with feigned blank innocence.
“Come on,” said Heller. “They waived everything including having a head! How did you do it?”
Vantagio started laughing and sat down at his desk. “All right, kid, you got me. It was awfully late and I had an awful time getting hold of the university president last night but I did it. You see, at peak periods, we use some of the Barnyard College girls here. So I just told him that if you weren’t enrolled in full by 9:30 this morning, we’d cut off our student aid program.”
“I owe you,” said Heller.
“Oh, no, no,” said Vantagio. “You don’t get off that easy. You still have to do what I tell you. Right?”
“Right,” said Heller.
“Then get on that phone and call Babe and tell her you’re enrolled!”
Heller turned the desk speaker phone around to face him and Vantagio pushed the lease line button. Geovani in Bayonne transferred the call to Babe in the dining room.
“This is Jerome, Mrs. Corleone. I just wanted to tell you what a great job Vantagio did in getting me enrolled.”
“It’s all complete?” said Babe.
“Absolutely,” said Heller. But I noted he did not tell her, as he had not told Vantagio, that Miss Simmons had really set him up to fail. Heller was sneaky.
“Oh, I’m so glad. You know, you dear boy, you don’t want to grow up to be a bum like these other bums. Mama wants you to have class, kid, real class. Become president or something.”
“Well, I certainly do thank you,” said Heller.
“Now, there’s one more thing, Jerome,” said Babe, a little more severely. “You’ve got to promise me not to play hooky.”
That stopped Heller. He knew very well he would be missing in as many as two or three classes a day! Bless Miss Simmons!
Heller found his voice, “Not even one class, Mrs. Corleone?”
“Now, Jerome,” said Babe, her voice hardening, “I know it is a terrible job bringing up boys. I never did but I had brothers and I know! Let down your guard for one second and they’re off and away, free as birds, skylarking and breaking neighbors’ windows. So the answer is very plain. I give it to you absolutely straight. No hooky. Not even one class! Mama will be watching and Mama will spank! Now promise me, Jerome. And Vantagio, if you’re listening to this, which you are — I am sure you are as I can tell it’s the speaker phone on your desk — you look at his hands; no crossed fingers, no crossed feet. All right?”
Vantagio peered at Heller. “They aren’t crossed, mia capa”
Oh, what a spot Heller was in! With his nonsense Royal officer scruples about keeping his word, I knew he was suffering agonies. He couldn’t keep that promise so he wouldn’t make it. And I was sure that, to Babe Corleone, the phrase “Mama will spank” translated more truthfully into “concrete overcoat.”
“Mrs. Corleone,” said Heller. “I will be truthful with you.” Ah, here it came! “I promise you faithfully that, unless I get rubbed out, or unless something happens that closes the university, I will complete college on time and get my diploma.”
“Oh, you dear boy! That is even more than I asked! But nevertheless, Jerome, just remember, Mama will be watching. Bye-bye!”
Vantagio closed the circuit and sat there beaming at Heller.
“There’s one more thing,” said Heller. “Vantagio, could you get me the phone number of Bang-Bang Rimbombo. I want to call him from my suite.”
“Celebrating, are you?” said Vantagio. “I don’t blame you. As a matter of fact, he’s right here in Manhattan and the parole officer is riding his (bleep) off.” He wrote the number on a scrap of paper and handed it over. “Have fun, kid.”
It left me blinking. Vantagio might be smart but he hadn’t penetrated that one. Heller was full of surprises, (bleep) him. What was he going to pull? Blow up the university? That was the only way I could think of that would let him keep the promise he had just made to Babe Corleone.
Chapter 8
About an hour later, Heller came out of his room. The tailors must have delivered something, for in the elevator mirrors I could see that he was dressed in a charcoal gray casual suit — the cloth must be some kind of summer cloth that was very thin and airy but looked thick and substantial. He had a white silk shirt with what appeared to be diamond cuff links and a dark blue tie. For a change he wasn’t wearing his baseball cap and in fact wore no hat at all. But when he crossed the lobby he was obviously still wearing spikes!
He clattered down the steps of a subway stop and caught a train. He got off at Times Square and was shortly clattering up Broadway past the porno shops. He turned into a cross street. I thought he must be going to a theater for he gave some attention to billboards of stage plays as he passed them.
Then he was looking up a flight of stairs. K.O. ATHLETIC CLUB, read the sign. He clattered on up and entered a room full of punching bags and helmeted boxers sparring around.
He was evidently expected. An attendant came over, “You Floyd?” and then beckoned. Heller followed him into a dressing room and the attendant pointed to a locker. Heller stripped and hung up his clothes. The attendant gave him a towel and shooed him through a door into a smoking haze of steam.