“I know it,” David said.
“I wish he’d find it. Maybe he’ll find it when he writes again. You see Eddy’s happy because he does something well and does it every day.”
“I guess Mr. Davis can’t do his every day the way you do and Eddy does.”
“No, And there are other things.”
“I know. I know too much for a kid, papa. Tommy knows twenty times as much as I do and knows the damndest things and they don’t hurt him. But everything I know hurts me. I don’t know why it should, either.”
“You mean that you feel it.”
“I feel it and it does something to me. It’s like a vicarious sin. If there is any such thing.”
“I see.”
“Papa, you excuse me for talking seriously. I know it isn’t polite. But I like to sometimes because there is so much we don’t know and then when we do know, it comes so fast it goes over you like a wave. The way the waves are today.”
“You can always ask me anything, Davy.”
“I know. Thank you very much. I’ll wait, I guess, on some things. There’s some I guess you can only learn for yourself probably.”
“Do you think we better do this ‘rummy’ business with Tom and Andy at Bobby’s? Remember I got in trouble about the man saying you were always drunk.”
“I remember—when he’d seen me drunk on wine twice in three years—but let’s not talk about it. This at Mr. Bobby’s will be a good alibi in case I ever did drink. If I did it twice with that man I might do it three times. No, I think this is a good thing to do, papa.”
“Have you done it lately, the pretend-rummy scene?”
“Tom and I do some pretty good ones. But with Andy they’re much better. Andy’s sort of a genius on them. He can do horrible ones. Mine are sort of special.”
“What have you done lately?” Thomas Hudson went on drawing.
“Did you ever see me do the idiot brother? The mongolian idiot?”
“Never.”
“How do you like it now, Davy?” Thomas Hudson showed him the sketch.
“It’s fine,” David said. “Now I see what you were after. It’s when he hangs in the air just before he falls. Can I really have the painting, papa?”
“Sure.”
“I’ll take care of it.”
“There’ll be two.”
“I’ll only take one to school and I’ll keep one at home at mother’s. Or would you rather keep it here?”
“No. She might like it. Tell me about some others that you did,” Thomas Hudson said.
“We used to have some awful ones on trains. Trains are the best because of the sort of people I guess. You don’t get those sort of people concentrated almost anywhere except on trains. And then they can’t get away.”
Thomas Hudson heard Roger talking in the other room and started to clean up and put away his gear. Young Tom came in and said, “How are you, papa? Did you work well? May I see it?”
Thomas Hudson showed him the two sketches and he said, “I like them both.”
“Do you like one better than the other?” David asked him.
“No. They’re both fine,” he said. Thomas Hudson could see he was in a hurry and that his mind was on something.
“How is it coming?” David asked him.
“It’s terrific,” young Tom said. “It will be wonderful if we do it right. They’re all down there now and we’ve been working on them all afternoon. We saw Mr. Bobby and Constable before they came. The way it’s been so far is that Mr. Davis is sodden and I’ve been trying to dissuade him.”
“You didn’t overdo it?”
“Hell no,” young Tom said. “You ought to have seen Mr. Davis. Every drink made a difference in him. But only imperceptibly.”
“What was he drinking?”
“Tea. Bobby’s got it in a rum bottle. He’s got a gin bottle fixed with water for Andy.”
“How did you try to dissuade Mr. Davis?”
“I pled with him. But so they couldn’t hear me. Mr. Bobby’s in it, too, but he’s using real liquor.”
“We better get down there,” David said. “Before Mr. Bobby gets too far ahead. How’s Mr. Davis feeling?”
“Wonderful. He’s a great, great artist, Dave.”
“Where’s Andy?”
“Downstairs practicing part of it in front of a mirror.”
“Is Eddy going to be in it?”
“Eddy and Joseph are both going to be in it.”
“They’ll never remember.”
“They only have one line.”
“Eddy can remember one line but I don’t know about Joseph.”
“He just repeats it after Eddy.”
“Is Constable in it?”
“Sure.”
“How many of them are there?”
“Seven with two girls. One nice-looking and one wonderful. She’s sorry for Mr. Davis already.”
“Oh boy,” said David. “Let’s go.”
“How’re you going to get down there?” young Tom asked David.
“I’ll carry him,” Thomas Hudson said.
“Please, papa, let me wear sneakers,” David said. “Let me wear Tommy’s sneakers. I’ll walk on the side of my feet and it won’t hurt them and it will look good.”
“All right. We might as well go. Where’s Roger?”
“He’s having a quick one with Eddy for his art,” young Tom said. “He was at bat a long time on that tea, papa.”
The wind was still blowing hard outside when they went into the Ponce de León. The people from the yacht were at the bar drinking rum swizzles. They were a nice-looking lot of people, tanned and dressed in whites, and they were polite and made room at the bar. Two men and a girl were at one end where the slot machine was and three men and the other girl were at the other end nearest the door. It was the lovely-looking girl who was at the slot machine end. But the other girl was awfully nice-looking, too. Roger, Thomas Hudson, and the boys came in straight. David even tried not to limp.
Mr. Bobby looked at Roger and said, “You back?”
Roger nodded hopelessly and Bobby put the rum bottle and a glass on the bar in front of him.
Roger reached for it and didn’t say anything.
“You drinking, Hudson?” Bobby said to Thomas Hudson. His face was stern and righteous. Thomas Hudson nodded. “You ought to cut it out,” Bobby said. “There’s a goddam limit to everything.”
“I just want a little rum, Bobby.”
“That stuff he’s drinking?”
“No. Bacardi.”
Mr. Bobby poured a glass and handed it to Thomas Hudson.
“Take it,” he said. “Though you know I shouldn’t serve you.”
Thomas Hudson drank the glass at a gulp and it was warming and inspiring.
“Give me another,” Thomas Hudson said.
“In twenty minutes, Hudson,” Bobby said. He looked at the clock behind the bar.
By now the people were paying a little attention, but politely.
“What are you drinking, Sport?” Mr. Bobby asked David.
“You know damn well I’m off the stuff,” David said to him severely.
“Since when?”
“Since last night you know damn well.”
“Excuse me,” Mr. Bobby said. He took a quick one himself. “How the hell am I to keep track of you goddam delinquents? All I ask is you get that Hudson out of here when I’ve got decent trade.”
“I’m drinking quietly,” Thomas Hudson said.
“You better.” Mr. Bobby corked the bottle in front of Roger and put it back on the shelf.
Young Tom nodded to him approvingly and whispered to Roger. Roger lowered his head on his hands. Then he raised his head and pointed to the bottle. Young Tom shook his head. Bobby picked up the bottle, uncorked it, and set it down in front of Roger.
“Drink yourself to death,” he said. “I won’t lose any sleep.”