And she snapped it open, bent over it again. — No I’m sorry, but wait…
— You do?
— No but here’s a pin. For where your coat’s torn. You shouldn’t be so upset about this appointment, she went on, pulling the tear together, — but I’m glad it’s so important to you. There, she straightened the pocket flap and sat away, — but I wish it were a novel.
— Why would you say that, he muttered.
— The way you look, she said not looking.
— Like a novelist? Only problem is a novelist has to understand women.
— You don’t?
— Apparently not, from all the… turned full to share her smile he found it gone, only her eyes wide through the lenses. — What’s the matter.
— I wish you hadn’t said that, she said looking away as quickly.
— What?
— I hope it’s not true.
— But, but what… And he stared a moment longer, but with such concentration he might have been, given this final opportunity, trying to commit to memory for all time each delicate convolution of her ear, the lobe barely large enough to support the whirl of gold that pierced it. — There, you see? he slumped further, brought his hands up to draw them down his face and got that knee wedged over the other again — if I wrote a novel it would end where most novels begin.
— But this book you’re working on, is it…
— Is it what it’s, it’s like living with an invalid real God damned terminal case, keep hoping he’ll pick up his bed and walk like the good book says.
— If you feel that way maybe you should just, can’t you put it aside until…
— Till what! till I come out like Schramm? he brought his foot in, wedging it into the hinge of the seat ahead — marching around the room quoting Tolstoy’s something terribly lacking between what I felt and what I could do suddenly throws his pencil, sharp pencil with an eraser on it bounces back and goes right into his eye… there was a pull at his side, her arm coming up, — is that…
— Why did you tell me that.
— What, I…
— No please, never mind…
— But…
— Please…! she’d snapped her bag open for her handkerchief, brought it up turned toward apartments Fully Rented, a laundry displaying a stopped clock, cars queued at a traffic light.
— I, Amy? he freed his foot, hitched himself up in the seat again — I wanted to ask you something I, one day when I was in Penn station, I was in a phone booth and you brushed right past me and a boy…
— I’d just rather not talk for a few minutes… she snapped the bag closed on her handkerchief, squared the tinted glasses on her face again as the train drained to a halt at another platform and he sank in the seat beside her getting a knee crossed and that foot back in the aisle brushed by a passing trouser leg black serge all the way up to the round collar, easing into the seat in front of them.
— Well Christ.
— What…
— Why in the, why do people do this? Look, the whole front end of the car is empty, the whole God damned car is practically empty and he comes and sits right…
— Shhh…
— No why do people do it! Go into a lunchroom and sit at an empty counter some idiot comes in and sits one stool away, what is it? Twenty empty stools and he’ll sit right down beside you, what…
— Please…
He wiped a hand down his face and sank lower, knee thrust more sharply into the seat ahead and eyes on the serge elbow draped over it close enough to bite, it shook, ruffling a newspaper, and the buildings on both sides began to swarm with fire escapes, rising from sight as they dropped in a culvert, dropping back as they rose, until the tunnel enclosed them like a blow. Lights came on, and ahead the door clattered open on the young conductor and closed behind him, down the aisle calming the mustache wisp with a finger tip, brushing the protruding shoe, eliciting a muttered — heil!
— He doesn’t seem awfully friendly, she said, — after all your efforts.
— Well my, my German isn’t too good, he may…
— I’m sure it’s much better than his.
He got his knee out of the seat, straightening up. — What do you mean.
— That I know he isn’t a poor German boy, over here with his first job.
— Then why did you…
— I talked to him last week about train times.
— When I told you that then, why didn’t you…
— I don’t know. Why did you?
— I just, sometimes… he ground one hand in the other, suddenly brought it up to seize her shoulder — listen could we, later can I see you later, for dinner if you’re free for dinner… and he stood, stepped aside for her, caught her elbow as the train lurched at the platform — when you’ve done your errands I mean, if you’re free…
— I, I don’t know…
— Listen because there are some things I, if you could meet me… he came on up the aisle behind her — we could, that awful cafeteria around seven I’ll wait there for you there’s a place, a French place where we could have dinner it’s not far… he caught her arm again on the platform, — look I’ll wait there for you anyhow if you don’t come I’ll just, just get the next train…
— You’d better hurry and make your call, she said already a step away, — I’m sure they won’t mind about the appointment…
— Yes but, around seven…?
— I, I’ll try… she was already far from reach — and Jack…? beyond the vacant wonder of a woman lost with a suitcase, — your book? and beyond the weaving approaches of a sailor lost in uniform — I hope it’s true…?
— Excuse me, sir?
— Look sailor I’m in a hurry… he brushed past sorting bits of cardboard for the coin he found there making for a wall phone niched in plastic, thrust it in and dialed.
— But sir…
— Look beat it, will you? Hello…? Yes listen I just got off the train I… Yes I know it is! I… because I thought this was Thursday till a minute ago I… but couldn’t you just call and change her dentist appointment? wouldn’t she… No, no I’m not asking you to make your plans to suit my convenience but just this… Well listen if she’s standing right out there at the bus stop waiting for you could you call her in for just a… Yes I know she wanted to show it to me herself, that’s why I’m trying to… all right. All right! I’m sorry it didn’t fit, I saw it in a window and thought it was something she’d… what? Well then get them for her, if she needs them get them and send me the… Well what the hell happens to the money I do send you… All right! It comes to you through welfare because that’s the way the court set it up who took it to the God damned court! Do you think it’s any less humiliating for me to… I don’t either but listen. Just let me ask you this. What time will you get her back from the dentist? I could still come out and… All right then listen, could you call her in from the bus stop for just a… what? No but maybe just once, just once in your life just once in your selfish, miserable God damned life you could…
— Hey, sir?
He smashed it down on the hook. — What the hell do you, look if you need money I haven’t got it, I’ve got one God damned dollar left here and…
— No sir I got my whole pay here, I just need Some change to call up my…
— So do I that’s where I’m going, now…
— Hey sir…? came after him bursting through doors to the pavement — could I go with you then…?
— Don’t give a God damn where you go, he came on down one curb, up the next bumped left, right by elbows, muzzled umbrellas, a yellow fender, finally through the whirl of a revolving door toward where it said desserts to thrust the crumpled bill under the glass and recover a spray of nickels bumping chairs, tables, coming up with a handful of cardboards for the one soiled white as he sank into the booth and dialed, a foot braced up against its open door eyed across an empty coffee cup drummed by a finger sporting a cat’s eye ring, shaken by the abrupt departure of an expanse of print dress for the next booth with the hasty removal of an earring, the clatter of the door. — Hello…? I’m calling a Mister Bast, is this his…