Just then Harry came in and the tall tourist’s wife said, “Isn’t he wonderful? That’s what I want. Buy me that, Papa.”
“Can I speak to you?” Harry said to Freddy.
“Certainly. Go right ahead and say anything you like,” the tall tourist’s wife said.
“Shut up, you whore,” Harry said. “Come in the back, Freddy.”
In the back was Bee-lips, waiting at the table.
“Hello, Big Boy,” he said to Harry.
“Shut up,” said Harry.
“Listen,” Freddy said. “Cut it out. You can’t get away with that. You can’t call my trade names like that. You can’t call a lady a whore in a decent place like this.
“A whore,” said Harry. “Hear what she said to me?”
“Well, anyway, don’t call her a name like that to her face.”
“All right. You got the money?”
“Of course,” said Bee-lips. “Why wouldn’t I have the money? Didn’t I say I’d have the money?”
“Let’s see it.”
Bee-lips handed it over. Harry counted ten hundred-dollar bills and four twenties.
“It should be twelve hundred.”
“Less my commission,” said Bee-lips.
“Come on with it.”
“No.”
“Come on.”
“Don’t be silly.”
“You miserable little crut.”
“You big bully,” Bee-lips said. “Don’t try to strong arm it away from me because I haven’t got it here.”
“I see,” said Harry. “I should have thought of that. Listen Freddy. You’ve known me a long time. I know she’s worth twelve hundred. This is a hundred and twenty short. Take it and take a chance on the hundred and twenty and the charter.”
“That’s three hundred and twenty dollars,” Freddy said. It was a painful sum for him to name as a risk, and he sweated while he thought about it.
“I got a car and a radio in the house that’s good for it.”
“I can make out a paper on that,” Bee-lips said. “I don’t want any paper,” Freddy said. He sweat again and his voice was hesitant. Then he said, “All right. I’ll take a chance. But for Christ’s sake be careful with the boat, will you Harry?”
“Like it was my own.”
“You lost your own,” said Freddy, still sweating, his suffering now intensified by that memory.
“I’ll take care of her.”
“I’ll put the money in my box in the bank,” Freddy said.
Harry looked at Bee-lips.
“That’s a good place,” he said, and grinned.
“Bartender,” someone called from the front.
“That’s you,” Harry said.
“Bartender,” came the voice again.
Freddy went out to the front.
“That man insulted me,” Harry could hear the high voice saying, but he was talking to Bee-lips.
“I’ll be tied up to the dock there at the front of the street. It isn’t half a block.”
“All right.”
“That’s all.”
“All right, Big Shot.”
“Don’t you big shot me.”
“However you like.”
“I’ll be there from four o’clock on.”
“Anything else?”
“They got to take me by force, see? I know nothing about it. I’m just working on the engine. I got nothing aboard to make a trip. I’ve hired her from Freddy to go charter fishing. They’ve got to hold a gun on me to make me start her and they’ve got to cut loose the lines.”
“What about Freddy? You didn’t hire her to go fishing from him.”
“I’m going to tell Freddy.”
“You better not.”
“I’m going to.”
“You better not.”
“Listen, I’ve done business with Freddy since during the war. Twice I’ve been partners with him and we never had trouble. You know how much stuff I’ve handled for him. He’s the only son-of-a-bitch in this town I would trust.”
“I wouldn’t trust anybody.”
“You shouldn’t. Not after the experiences you’ve had with yourself.”
“Lay off me.”
“All right. Go out and see your friends. What’s your out?”
“They’re Cubans. I met them out at the roadhouse. One of them wants to cash a certified check. What’s wrong with that?”
“And you don’t notice anything?”
“No. I tell them to meet me at the bank.”
“Who drives them?”
“Some taxi.”
“What’s he supposed to think they are, violinists?”
“We’ll get one that don’t think. There’s plenty of them that can’t think in this town. Look at Hayzooz.”
“Hayzooz is smart. He just talks funny.”
“I’ll have them call a dumb one.”
“Get one hasn’t any kids.”
“They all got kids. Ever see a taxi driver without kids?”
“You are a goddamn rat.”
“Well, I never killed anybody,” Bee-lips told him.
“Nor you never will. Come on, let’s get out of here. Just being with you makes me feel crummy.”
“Maybe you are crummy.”
“Can you get them from talking?”
“If you don’t paper your mouth.”
“Paper yours then.”
“I’m going to get a drink,” Harry said.
Out in front the three tourists sat on their high stools. As Harry came up to the bar the woman looked away from him to register disgust.
“What will you have?” asked Freddy.
“What’s the lady drinking,” Harry asked.
“A Cuba Libre.”
“Then give me a straight whiskey.”
The tall tourist with the little sandy mustache and the thick-lensed glasses leaned his large, straight-nosed face over toward Harry and said, “Say, what’s the idea of talking that way to my wife?”
Harry looked him up and down and said to Freddy, “What kind of a place you running?”
“What about it?” the tall one said.
“Take it easy,” Harry said to him.
“You can’t pull that with me.”
“Listen,” Harry said. “You came down here to get well and strong, didn’t you? Take it easy.” And he went out.
“I should have hit him, I guess,” the tall tourist said. “What do you think, dear?”
“I wish I was a man,” his wife said.
“You’d go a long way with that build,” the green-visored man said into his beer.
“What did you say,” the tall one asked.
“I said you could find out his name and address and write him a letter telling him what you think of him.”
“Say, what’s your name, anyway? What are you doing, kidding ,me?”
“Just call me Professor MacWalsey.”
“My name’s Laughton,” the tall one said. “I’m a writer.”
“I’m glad to meet you,” Professor MacWalsey said. “Do you write often?”
The tall man looked around him. “Let’s get out of here, dear,” he said. “Everybody is either insulting or nuts.”
“It’s a strange place,” said Professor MacWalsey. “Fascinating, really. They call it the Gibraltar of America and it’s three hundred and seventy-five miles south of Cairo, Egypt. But this place is the only part of it I’ve had time to see yet. It’s a fine place though.”
“I see you’re a professor all right,” the wife said. “You know, I like you.”
“I like you too, darling,” Professor MacWalsey said. “But I have to go now.”
He got up and went out to look for his bicycle.
“Everybody is nuts here,” the tall man said. “Should we have another drink, dear?”
“I liked the professor,” the wife said. “He had a sweet manner.”
“That other fellow—”
“Oh, he had a beautiful face,” the wife said. “Like a Tartar or something. I wish he hadn’t been insulting. He looked kind of like Ghengis Khan in the face. Gee, he was big.”