— Honestly I haven’t time Mister Davidoff, and I’m…
— Just cancel that Miss Bulcke and oh Miss Bulcke, while you’re on there get hold of Colonel Moyst, he can begin cutting orders for me for a week, make it a ten day TDY for Germany and, just make it Europe and Africa, CIPAP, they’ll have to give me a field grade equivalency rating, Colonel, probably a GS sixteen I’ve got to have CIPAP or I might as well stay home. Now… Empty-handed, he stood knuckled under at the desk, — that one’s better, a little less of Crawley and we can touch it up to get that pair of horns out of his here, this one’s better, you’ve got your stock certificate right up front and center the kid though, too bad we didn’t get a kid up there with a haircut and a sweater that wasn’t ripped down the, let’s see this one. Same kid. Same kid seems to have pushed himself into all of them with the stock certificate, he…
— He has been sort of, this boy’s been sort of acting as a class secretary on our…
— Wait, wait! Up came his hands framing nothing — look. It fits right in. A share in America, right? And these kids, this kid here, that must be a pretty what you’d call culturally deprived area where you’re teaching? Well anyhow we can play up the wait… His hands dropped scattering pictures — looking for, no blacks? I don’t see any blacks in any of these, don’t you have any blacks in your class? he swept them together again — don’t worry about it, we’ll make do one second, this must be my Washington call. Hello?…? No it’s not. He stabbed buttons. — What happened to my Washington call, Senator… what? he stabbed again and began to pace — hello? Senator…? Oh he’s not? When will he… At the end of the cord he paused, his back on the room — well just get him this message then, confidential. Background for handling the press on this Gandia thing playing up the angle of the US getting in bed with the USSR, China, Albania and the rest of them on it, he can talk to Frank Black at that end on the canned editorial content side, capture a what? Me? Davidoff… Davidoff, d, a, v, i… well tell him I called for Mister… hello? Hello?… He walked back to the desk, cleared his throat as he hung up the phone. — Yes, we’ll want this boy’s name for the captioning… he looked up, and then stabbed at the console. — Miss Bulcke? Is Mrs Joubert out there? has she… probably just went to the ladies’ room, the… who? Who’s this, Carol? Hyde who… Well what does he want with… what appliances… Oh. Well tell him to talk to Mollenhoff about it… Oh, well if he works for Mollenhoff why did Mollenhoff tell him to talk to me about it… Oh. Well tell him I’ll talk to Möllenhoff about it, is he right there? Put him on the blower Carol and stay on yourself, I’ve got a couple of brush fires that… Carol?
— Yes sir he’s right here… she leaned across the litter to cradle the telephone and reach a button on the far side of the desk, drawing the figure looming behind her forward till her skirt stopped just short of revelation. — Mister Hyde this is Mister Davidoff, she recovered, pointing at the speaker beside the spilling out basket.
— Yes hello Mister, Carol? turn it down, you’ve got some feedback in there that’s bursting my…
— Hello, Mister Davidoff…? He followed the course of the stocking seam again and remained sagged over the litter toward the speaker as though seeking recognition in its face. — I’m…
— Hyde? Get further back from that speaker we’re running into some feedback, I’m topside in the chief’s office tending store here can’t get away right now, you’re in sales? over in Mollenhoffs stable? Good thing I got hold of you I just had him on Carol while you’re on deck, you still on deck there? Pull Mister Eigen off those captions tell him I’ve just come out of conference on it, rethinking the whole feature in inner city terms culturally deprived black slice of the corporate pie probably need an airbrush on some of those pix too Hyde? still with me? Mollenhoff can’t keep his communications lines straight good thing I got hold of you on this, Justice Department on our tails this vertical integration policy’s the big must right down the line, bending over backwards keeping our skirts clean if he’s handing out that appliance inventory on a tax write-off tell him our legal boys switched the game plan clearing the whole thing out through sales till we get the loud and clear from Justice on Carol? While you’re on deck get hold of Miss Bulcke on this TDY she’s lining up tell her to make sure CIPAP includes commercial travel authorized means I’ll need a field grade equivalency that’s colonel or better get this other call, the Senator call me back on that line? Must be on this other line, heeep…
— I guess he signed off Mister Hyde, is there anything else?
— Ahhh… he got upright, — better see if you can get Mister Mollenhoff for me.
— Yes sir. She found a company directory in the litter, — is that Herbert B? or is that…
— Herbert B.
— That’s the only Mollenhoff anyway… she dialed. — Did you want to, hello? Mister Mollenhoff? Yeah this is Carol, Ginny? He did? Thanks. You want to go shopping at lunch…? By the cooler, yeah. She hung up. — He went to Akron, Mister Mollenhoff. Is there anything else?
— When will he be back?
— She didn’t say, you want me to ask? She had the phone again.
— No, no, don’t, don’t bother, he turned for the door — oh, while I think of it tell Mister ah, Mister Davidoff, tell him that major is field grade too.
— Major what? I better get a pencil.
— Field grade includes major, not just colonels.
— Field grade includes major, yes sir, she said from her pad, — you know the way out? I’m going down toward the elevators you can just follow me okay? He did, eyes lowered till she turned. — We can just go through this way and, here. Here they are.
— That’s some painting you’ve got on this floor.
— It’s real big isn’t it.
— I wouldn’t cut off my ear for it.
— Your, gee no she said as the doors opened silently and he stepped in, closing as silently on her — come see us again, and the figure rounding the corner behind her fighting loose a tie with — Oh Carol… descending to Don’t Fence Me In and a lobby filled with policemen which he got through and as far as the city ambulance at the curb before his — What happened? provoked response, a dulled obscenity from a lounger against the granite sill unbuttoned to the waist in the cool air where Don’t Walk flashed as he crossed at a lope, down the block, down the ramp into the garage.
— Kinda car?
He handed over the ticket folded in bills. — A brown…
— You not suppose to get this car till five o’clock. We got it all blocked in down there, you say you don’t want it till five o’clock.
— Look I’m in a hurry, here’s an extra buck. Can you get it out?
— Can’t just get it like that…
He watched the dollar stuffed among greased folds in a turn toward a group lunching on the hood of a distant Cadillac where, as he began to pace under the roar of an exhaust fan, he glanced with each about face to look at his watch in a heavyweight’s gesture, and back, paused to study racing cars on end, in mid-air, in flames, taped to the wall, the distant picnickers again, his watch in an awkward left cross, and back; pitted navel, graveled nipple, calendar for July simmering under the exhaust fan, his watch, that lunch, dimpled cheeks bared on a diving board for August, racing car in flames, one in mid-air, on end, he sat, stood, paced, returned to gauge the cleft in August’s cheeks yawned at him from the diving board, and back, muttered, called out, sat, stood, at last himself descended, ramps, caverned ranks of cars and his, free-standing, as the third inning began, feet dislodged from the dashboard, loud words dulled to muttering as he drove up the ramp, two men on, one out, and a called strike nearing the bridge stopped for a light, window rolled down where his arm rested from a thrust for a look at his watch and from its face up to one in the car stopped close beside him for the light, black, black in the driver’s seat, black behind,