“I am sorry to have disturbed you, Mrs. Quill,” said Pacifica, rising to her feet and going towards the door.
“I wasn’t yelling at Copperfield, I just said that I didn’t think she would be comfortable here.” Mrs. Quill laid down the bills. “Do you think she would be comfortable here, Pacifica?”
“A common little thing does not know anything about these questions,” answered Pacifica and she left the room, leaving Mrs. Copperfield behind with Mrs. Quill.
Mrs. Quill took some keys from the top of her dresser and motioned to Mrs. Copperfield to follow her. They walked through some halls and up a flight of stairs and Mrs. Quill opened the door of one of the rooms.
“Is it near Pacifica’s?” asked Mrs. Copperfield.
Mrs. Quill without answering led her back through the halls and stopped near Pacifica’s room.
“This is dearer,” said Mrs. Quill, “but it’s near Miss Pacifica’s room if that’s your pleasure and you can stand the noise.”
“What noise?”
“She’ll start yammering away and heaving things around the minute she wakes up in the morning. It don’t affect her any. She’s tough. She hasn’t got a nerve in her body.”
“Mrs. Quill—”
“Yes.”
“Could you have someone bring me a bottle of gin to my room?”
“I think I can do that.… Well, I hope you are comfortable.” Mrs. Quill walked away. “I’ll have your bag sent up,” she said, looking over her shoulder.
Mrs. Copperfield was appalled at the turn of events.
“I thought,” she said to herself, “that they would go on the way they were forever. Now I must be patient and wait until everything is all right again. The longer I live, the less I can foresee anything.” She lay down on the bed, put her knees up, and held onto her ankles with her hands.
“Be gay … be gay … be gay,” she sang, rocking back and forth on the bed. There was a knock on the door and a man in a striped sweater entered the room without waiting for an answer to his knock.
“You ask for a bottle of gin?” he said.
“I certainly did — hooray!”
“And here’s a suitcase. I’m putting it down here.”
Mrs. Copperfield paid him and he left.
“Now,” she said, jumping off the bed, “now for a little spot of gin to chase my troubles away. There just isn’t any other way that’s as good. At a certain point gin takes everything off your hands and you flop around like a little baby. Tonight I want to be a little baby.” She took a hookerful, and shortly after that another. The third one she drank more slowly.
The brown shutters of her window were wide open and a small wind was bringing the smell of frying fat into the room. She went over to the window and looked down into the alleyway which separated the Hotel de las Palmas from a group of shacks.
There was an old lady seated in a chair in the alleyway eating her dinner.
“Eat every bit of it!” Mrs. Copperfield said. The old lady looked up dreamily, but she did not answer.
Mrs. Copperfield put her hand over her heart. “Le bonheur,” she whispered, “le bonheur … what an angel a happy moment is — and how nice not to have to struggle too much for inner peace! I know that I shall enjoy certain moments of gaiety, willy-nilly. No one among my friends speaks any longer of character — and what interests us most, certainly, is finding out what we are like.”
“Copperfield!” Pacifica burst into the room. Her hair was messy and she seemed to be out of breath. “Come on downstairs and have some fun. Maybe they are not the kind of men you like to be with, but if you don’t like them you just walk away. Put some rouge on your face. Can I have some of your gin, please?”
“But a moment ago you said the time for fun was over!”
“What the hell!”
“By all means what the hell,” said Mrs. Copperfield. “That’s music to anyone’s ears.… If you could only stop me from thinking, always, Pacifica.”
“You don’t want to stop thinking. The more you can think, the more you are better than the other fellow. Thank your God that you can think.”
Downstairs in the bar Mrs. Copperfield was introduced to three or four men.
“This man is Lou,” said Pacifica, pulling out a stool from under the bar and making her sit next to him.
Lou was small and over forty. He wore a light-weight gray suit that was too tight for him, a blue shirt, and a straw hat.
“She wants to stop thinking,” said Pacifica to Lou.
“Who wants to stop thinking?” asked Lou.
“Copperfield. The little girl who is sitting on a stool, you big boob.”
“Boob yourself. You’re gettin’ just like one of them New York girls,” said Lou.
“Take me to Nueva York, take me to Nueva York,” said Pacifica, bouncing up and down on her stool.
Mrs. Copperfield was shocked to see Pacifica behaving in this kittenish manner.
“Remember the belly buttons,” said Lou to Pacifica.
“The belly buttons! The belly buttons!” Pacifica threw up her arms and screeched with delight.
“What about the belly buttons?” asked Mrs. Copperfield.
“Don’t you think those two are the funniest words in the whole world? Belly and button — belly and button — in Spanish it is only ombligo.”
“I don’t think anything’s that funny. But you like to laugh, so go ahead and laugh,” said Lou, who made no attempt to talk to Mrs. Copperfield at all.
Mrs. Copperfield pulled at his sleeve. “Where do you come from?” she asked him.
“Pittsburgh.”
“I don’t know anything about Pittsburgh,” said Mrs. Copperfield. But Lou was already turning his eyes in Pacifica’s direction.
“Belly button,” he said suddenly without changing his expression. This time Pacifica did not laugh. She did not seem to have heard him. She was standing up on the rail of the bar waving her arms in an agitated and officious manner.
“Well, well,” she said, “I see that nobody has yet bought for Copperfield a drink. Am I with grown men or little boys? No, no … Pacifica will find other friends.” She started to climb down from the bar, commanding Mrs. Copperfield to follow her. In the meantime she knocked off the hat of the man who was seated next to her with her elbow.
“Toby,” she said to him, “you ought to be ashamed.” Toby had a sleepy fat face and a broken nose. He was dressed in a dark brown heavy-weight suit.
“What? Did you want a drink?”
“Of course I wanted a drink.” Pacifica’s eyes were flashing.
Everyone was served and she settled back on her stool. “Come on now,” she said, “what are we going to sing?”
“I’m a monotone,” said Lou.
“Singing ain’t in my line,” said Toby.
They were all surprised to see Mrs. Copperfield throw her head back as though filled with a sudden feeling of exaltation and start to sing.
“Who cares if the sky cares to fall into the sea
Who cares what banks fail in Yonkers
As long as you’ve got the kiss that conquers
Why should I care?
Life is one long jubilee
As long as I care for you
And you care for me.”
“Good, fine … now another one,” said Pacifica in a snappy voice.
“Did you ever sing in a club?” Lou asked Mrs. Copperfield. Her cheeks were very red.
“Actually, I didn’t. But when I was in the mood, I used to sing very loudly at a table in a restaurant and attract a good bit of attention.”
“You wasn’t such good friends with Pacifica the last time I was in Colon.”