“And what would you care anyway if I were.”
“I wouldn’t.”
“For your information those vine swingers as you call them are potentates and all products of England’s very best schools. While you’re merely from Woonsocket.”
“Hey honey, get dressed. And for your information, Woonsocket is the best fucking place to be out of on the face of the earth. Plus don’t forget I spent time in Brooklyn.”
“How could I forget.”
“O.K. Duchess, just without a tearful ceremony get out of my life. I’m going to give you ten minutes.”
Schultz turning. A long moaning wail erupting as he walked back out into the hall. Reaching the door of his bedroom. My sweating palm turning the crystal nob. Big Ben booming. More sobs rending Belgravia. In spite of everything sensible my mind is telling me. I’ve got a hard on. Which fucking human nature uses to pole vault me out of old disasters into newer bigger ones. Like already hit my father with my mother. And made his neck go all stringy with tension. My uncle dropped dead of heart attack in the bathroom. My aunt hysterical looking at his inert heap. If this keeps up. Could be me in a few more years. An ambulance came to collect him. The guy with the stretcher says don’t worry lady this happens all the time, he’s the fourth I collected since lunch. Unbelievable. Half hour after the most wonderful weekend. And I got fucking death all of a sudden on my mind. As well as her luscious bloody tits. Which I would love to fuck off her at the rate of one semi quaver per second. Throw her gorgeous body backwards into the tub. With a splash. Jump right in on top in the suds. Holy Jesus what was that. That was a splash. Or the whole fucking bathroom has fallen through the ceiling.
Schultz running back. His red silk polka dot tie in his hand. The room empty. The carpet soaked again. Jesus where is the bitch. Shit she’s under the water. What is she trying to do to me. Isn’t it enough she’s already given me enemy microbes up my prick. Now eyes closed she wants to let her hands float from her wrists and put bubbles coming up from her nose and mouth. I knew it. I should have stayed in the country. A cowhand on his Lordship’s estate. With a life of peace and dignity. Instead of a drowning on my hands.
Schultz tugging and lifting Pricilla. Draping her by the white glistening arms out of her freshly shaved armpits, over the edge of the pink bathtub. Water dripping from the curled long black strands of hair. The phone ringing. Holy shit. Hollywood. It’s about nine a.m. out on the coast. The call I missed last time this bitch had my life in turmoil.
Schultz pinching Pricilla hard on her arse. Test her for life. She twitched. She’s alive. Playing her usual death scene she does to perfection. Boy should fairness ever sneak back into the world, you madam, had better watch out.
Schultz wiping his hands on a towel, necktie flying, running down the stairs three at a time. And carramba. Crashing headlong into the table at the bottom. The phone bouncing on the floor. Scrambling on his knees to snatch up the instrument to his mouth and ear. Fucking phone. If it’s the one last thing I ever do. I’m going to grab you. Jesus before the show is even previewed they could be offering me a hundred grand option for the movie rights. Act like I heard a better offer from New York and be tough from the first syllable. Like Mr. Schultz is busy long distance on the other line but let’s hear the deal.
“Yeah.”
“Hello. Hello.”
“Yeah who is it.”
“Hey what’s going on. All the banging. Is this you Sigmund. It’s Al.”
“Holy shit you. I nearly killed myself just now coming to the phone.”
“Sigmund I lost my temper the other day. I’m calling you up to apologise. Tried to get you the whole weekend. I mean two old friends. It shouldn’t be like that between them. I’m dropping the case.”
“Yeah, I’m listening.”
“But Sigmund I want to be sincere with you. I want to give you some good advice. The girl loves you.”
“Holy shit. Not this subject again.”
“Sure this subject. The girl loves you.”
“You should tell me she washes my socks and shirts. I’d be impressed.”
“Look the girl was seven years old when her father jumped.”
“I’m expecting a long distance call from Hollywood Al and you phone to tell me someone jumped. What the hell are you talking about.”
“Look Sigmund. I’m telling you this. Because it’s serious. He put on his overcoat, his hat. Took his brief case and his umbrella. He ran, Sigmund, across the floor of his office.”
“Hey wait a second Al there’s a knock on the door.”
Schultz peeking out the open crack of door. The sky darkened. And in a gust of rainy wind, two green uniformed delivery gentlemen. Each with a stacked armful of cellophane covered red roses.
“This is Four Arabesque Street, sir.”
“That’s right. Says so on the door. Hey what’s all this.”
“Sir there’s a whole van load.”
“I’m not paying for these. You got the wrong address.”
“This is the address. And they’re all paid for sir. You want them in the hall.”
“Holy christ. I’m on the phone. O.K. put them in the hall. O.K. Al I’m back. Where were we. Before the roses arrived. Good title for a song for the show. O yeah. Pricilla’s father. Running across the floor of his office. And yeah I know Al, exactly what’s coming next. He took a flying leap right out through the window. Fifteen stories up over Madison Avenue. And killed three innocent people when he landed on them in the street.”
“Hey come on, what are you, a soulless evil son of a bitch. Using that tone of voice. Plus it happened from twenty stories up over Lexington Avenue. And he killed only one single person.”
“So even in death he was a conservationist. Or maybe vaudeville missed one of its biggest stars. And with the two tons he was married to he could have been a double act.”
“Hey Sigmund. One second. Do you mind. Just one second. I’m doing what I’m doing. As a friend. And for both of you. Do you want me to get angry again.”
“Sure get angry Al. But you blow hot and cold. One second I’m the biggest son of a bitch going and you’re going to sue the shit out of me. Next you’re telling me the excuses some bitch has who’s dedicated already to destroying my life.”
“Don’t you understand. The girl wants to get married. She needs the security and protection of matrimony. That’s why she does those things.”
“Shit she needs protection. I’m standing here getting buried in roses. I need protection.”
“So you should get married. At your age too.”
“Hold it Al, hold it. I got to stop these fucking roses coming in. Hey you guys. Stop. That’s enough. No more. Give the rest of them to your relatives. I’m locking the door. Back to you Al. So now what’s fresh.”
“Sigmund it was her who pleaded with me we should be friends again.”
“Who. You and her.”
“No. You and me.”
“So why should we be suddenly friends again Al.”
“Well I’ll be up front. To avoid you dragging her good name through the courts.”
“Hey Al. Am I hearing you right. Am I. Dragging her through the courts. I’m the fucking defendant remember. The two of you are suing me. It was your knees nearly ruptured her tits landing on her chest. Remember. And I should get married. Holy mackerel. Thanks for picking the wife for me.”
“Not only is she beautiful. She has the most sexy telephone voice in the world.”
“So that’s wonderful. She should keep in telephone contact. Or am I supposed to now set up an answering service for freaks. Or what. Are you recently Al some kind of pervert. Maybe getting your engorgements on my telephone bill.”