“It’s your part of town. It’s the kind of place you lived before we found you. You wouldn’t be happy in any other part of town.”
“But I had friends back there where you found me. There was Susie and Jake and Joseph, the Baboon and all the other people. Why can’t I ever go back and see my friends?”
“Because you’d talk. You’d shoot off your mouth.”
“You don’t trust me.”
“Should we trust you, Ernie?”
“No, I guess not,” said Ernie.
He got out of the car.
“But I was happy, see?” he said.
“Sure, sure,” said Joe. “I know.”
There was one man sitting at the bar and two sitting at a table in the back. The place reminded Ernie of the place where he and Susie and Joseph, the Baboon, and sometimes Jake and Harry used to spend an evening drinking beer. He climbed up on a stool. He felt comfortable and almost as if he were back in the good old days again.
“Give me a shot,” he said to the bartender.
“You got money, friend?”
“Sure, I got money.” Ernie laid a dollar on the bar. The bartender got a bottle and poured a drink. Ernie gulped it down. “Another one,” he said. The man poured another one.
“You’re a new one,” the bartender said.
“I ain’t been around before,” said Ernie.
He got a third drink and sat quietly, sipping it instead of throwing it right down.
“You know what I do?” he asked the bartender.
“Naw, I don’t know what you do. You do like all the rest of them. You don’t do nothing.”
“I cure people.”
“Is that so?”
“I walk around and I cure people when I walk.”
“Well, great,” said the bartender. “I got the beginning of a cold. So cure me.”
“You’re already cured,” said Ernie.
“I don’t feel no different than when you walked in here.”
“Tomorrow. You’ll be all right tomorrow. It takes a little time.”
“I ain’t going to pay you,” said the bartender.
“I don’t expect no pay. Other people pay me.”
“What other people?”
“Just other people. I don’t know who they are.”
“They must be nuts.”
“They won’t let me go home,” said Ernie.
“Well, now, ain’t that too bad.”
“I had a lot of friends. I had Susie and Joseph, the Baboon—”
“Everyone got friends,” the bartender said.
“I got an aura. That is what they think.”
“You got a what?”
“An aura. That is what they call it.”
“Never heard of it. You want another drink?”
“Yeah, give me another one. Then I got to go.”
Charley was standing on the sidewalk outside the joint, looking in at him. He didn’t want Charley walking in and saying something to him, like get going. It would be embarrassing.
He saw the sign in an upstairs window and darted up the stairs. Jack was across the street and Al just a block or so ahead. They would see him and come running, but maybe he could get to the office before they caught up with him.
The sign on the door said: Lawson & Cramer, Attorneys-at-Law. He moved in fast.
“I got to see a lawyer,” he told the receptionist.
“Have you an appointment, sir?”
“No, I ain’t got no appointment. But I need a lawyer quick. And I got money, see.”
He brought out a handful of crumpled bills.
“Mr. Cramer is busy.”
“What about the other one? Is he busy, too?”
“There isn’t any other lawyer. There used to be—”
“Look, lady, I can’t fool around.”
The door to the inner office came open and a man stood in it.
“What’s going on out here?”
“This gentleman—”
“I ain’t no gentleman,” said Ernie. “But I need a lawyer.”
“All right,” said the man. “Come in.”
“You’re Cramer?”
“Yes, I am.”
“You’ll help me?”
“I’ll try.”
The man closed the door and went around the desk and sat down.
“Have a chair,” he said. “What is your name?”
“Ernie Foss.”
The man wrote on a yellow pad.
“Ernie. That would be Ernest, would it?”
“Yeah, that’s right.”
“Your address, Mr. Foss.”
“I ain’t got no address. I just travel around. Once I had an address. I had friends. Susie and Joseph, the Baboon, and—”
“What seems to be the trouble, Mr. Foss?”
“They’re holding me.”
“Who’s holding you?”
“The government. They won’t let me go home and they watch me all the time.”
“Why do you think they’re watching you? What have you done?”
“I ain’t done nothing. I got this thing, you see.”
“What thing? What have you got?”
“I cure people.”
“You can’t mean you’re a doctor.”
“No doctor. I just cure people. I walk around and cure them. I got an aura.”
“You have what?”
“An aura.”
“I don’t understand.”
“It’s something in me. Something I put out. You got a cold or something?”
“No, I haven’t a cold.”
“If you had, I’d cure you.”
“I tell you what, Mr. Foss. Why don’t you go out into the outer office and have a seat. I’ll be back with you right away.”
As he went out the door, Ernie saw the man reaching for the phone. He didn’t wait. He went out the door and into the hall as fast as he could manage. Jack and Al were waiting for him there.
“That was a stupid thing you did,” Joe said to Ernie.
“He didn’t believe me,” Ernie said. “He was reaching for the phone. He would have called the cops.”
“Maybe he did. We thought he might. That’s why we got out of there.”
“He acted as if he thought maybe I was crazy.”
“Why did you do it?”
“I got my rights,” said Ernie. “Civil rights. Ain’t you ever heard of them?”
“Of course we have. You have your legal rights. It was all explained to you. You’re employed. You’re a civil servant. You agreed to certain conditions of employment. You’re being paid. It’s all legal.”
“But I don’t like it.”
“What don’t you like about it? Your pay is good. Your work is light. You just do some walking. There aren’t many people who are paid for walking.”
“If I am paid so good, why do we always stay in crummy hotels like this one?”
“You aren’t paying for your room and food,” said Joe. “You’re on an expense account. We take care of it for you. And we don’t stay in good hotels because we aren’t dressed for it. We’d look funny in a good hotel. We’d attract attention.”
“You guys dress like me,” said Ernie. “Why do you dress like me? You even talk like me.”
“It’s the way we work.”
“Yeah, I know. The crummy part of town. And that’s all right with me. I never was nowhere but the crummy part of town. But you guys, I can tell. You’re used to dressing in white shirts and ties and suits. Suits all cleaned and pressed. And when you aren’t with me, you talk different, too, I bet.”
“Jack,” said Joe, “why don’t you and Al go out with Ernie and have a bite to eat. Charley and me will go later on.”
“That’s another thing,” said Ernie. “You never go into any place or out of any place together. You make it look as if you aren’t all together. Would that be so we aren’t noticed, too?”