A Lost King: A Novel (10 page)

After work I stopped at the coffee house. An old woman was sitting with Theodore at the corner table. She was turning cards over one by one and telling his fortune. She kept sighing.

“Look at this,” she said. “Let's see if there's a black queen. My, my. A change is in the wind. Very nice, Theodore, very nice. The coming year will be a good one. You're at the end of a poor cycle.”

“It's a cycle that lasted sixty years, Ruth.”

“A surprise is in store for you. Something you never counted on.”

“You mean I'm going to die?”

“Patience, Theodore, patience,” said Ruth. “Everything will turn out right if you have patience.”

“What's going on?”

“What do you mean?”

“You used to have guts,” said Theodore. “There was always enough trouble to put me on guard. You must be getting soft, Ruth. Maybe you better turn in your cards.”

Theodore teased her awhile and then gave her a dollar and a glass of whiskey. He filled a glass for himself and lifted it to hers. Their eyes met and they smiled. In a moment they were laughing at each other.

I thought my father might like to have his fortune told. I asked Ruth if she would come around the corner with me.

“By all means,” she said. “Lead the way. I won't be back on the South Side until the holidays.”

On the way over I gave her two dollars and told her to make the fortune cheerful. My father was sitting on the porch. He sat up very straight when he saw us. I helped Ruth up the porch steps and led her into the kitchen. She sat at the table. She told me to wipe it clean and then she told me to pull down the window shade. I took a pint of whiskey out of the cupboard. I filled two glasses and we drank a toast. We had a second glass. That whiskey went to my head. I felt reckless and wonderful. I went out on the porch.

“She's waiting,” I said. “She's all ready for you, Pa.”

“Ready for me? Who is she?”

“She came to tell your fortune. At great expense. What a stroke of luck for us. What a privilege. Ruth is here with your truth.”

“My what?”

“Your fortune, Pa. Come in, come in. The lights are low. If you only knew what she told Theodore. What thrills and shocks. What revelations. Theodore fainted. We called Doctor Fisher. Quick, Pa, quick. She's on a tight schedule.”

“Jackass! Get her out of there.”

“You're wasting time, Pa. She's due at the mayor's office. Be nice for a change. She walked all the way over in this heat.”

“I told you to get her out of there.”

“She came to see what's in store for you. She tells everything.”

“Do I need her to tell me what's in store? I'll tell her. Tell her it's more of the same. Tell her it's sunshine and singing birds. Tell her it's moonlight and roses. Tell her it's love and wine and laughter. And tell her pretty soon I'll die and be in peace.”

I went back inside. Ruth had the cards laid out and so I asked her to tell my fortune. She shuffled the cards and laid them out again. She told me I was in the midst of a seven-year cycle of good things. She spoke of a girl.

“A girl?” I said. “Does she have black hair? Plump? A little bowlegged? Does she live nearby? Tell the truth, Ruth.”

“Yes, yes. She has dark hair all right. There's the queen of clubs. And she lives nearby.”

“Will she be mine? My own darling Peggy? Wait, wait. Don't answer. I'll die if she won't. I can't even think about it. Wait then. How does it look to you? Is there a chance for me?”

“Jack of spades. Resistance.”

“I know, I know. I wish you would put a spell on her. Wait then. Can you make a nose bleed in the distance?”

“Now what's this?” she said. “I see a stranger coming into your life. A stranger and not a stranger.”

“Tell me more. Out with it, Ruth.”

“From the east. The east, the east.”

“Wait, wait. A stranger and not a stranger? From the east?”

“The east is right.”

“In Pennsylvania? Is it possible, Ruth?”

“Very possible. Pennsylvania is east of Ohio.”

“Then it must be Vandergrift. It's my father's first cousin. It's Michael! Is he coming here? Is he coming to see us?”

“It's very possible.”

“This is remarkable. Wait then. Tell me something about jobs, Ruth. It's my big trouble right now.”

“Don't worry about jobs. Everything will fall into place.”

She drank another glass of whiskey. I helped her out the door and down the steps. She gave my father a cold squinting look.

“It's all over,” I said. “Ruth told me everything will fall into place. She gave me her word.”

“That place is the grave,” he said.

Early Saturday afternoon I went downtown and bought a fine black hat for my father. It cost me twenty-five dollars. On the way home I saw a help-wanted sign in front of the Superior Forge & Steel Company. I thought it would be a wonderful surprise for my father if I came home with a new job as well as that new hat. I got off the bus and hurried into the front office of the plant.

Not one word did I say. A man with a smashed nose and eyes like ice caught my arm as though putting me under arrest. He studied me.

“My name is Rafferty,” he said. “Do you want a job? I mean do you need a job? Tell the truth. Did you finish high school? You look all right to me, damn it. I'm fed up with these floaters. Can I count on you? Damn it, boy, I'll get you started in an hour here. I'll put you on the second shift. How about it? Bring your cake. Follow me.”

Carrying the hatbox, I followed him into the plant.

First and last in that place was the pounding. It seemed that some tremendous hammers were dropping and dropping to pound everything into pieces. The pounding was off to our right and then it started in a distant corner of that black building. Rafferty guided me around the shipping dock. Beside and above it was a kind of conveyor. Swollen gray carcasses of steel were hanging from it on big hooks. One by one they loomed out of a hooded shed. Rafferty turned to take me down an aisle of ovens. Those ovens squatted like frogs and gaped at each other across the blackened floor. Tangled webs of pipe soared and were lost in the gloom. An overhead crane rumbled past blackened windows running the length of the building below the corrugated roof. One window was open on a square of blue sky. It was a world of sky. Pounding was everywhere. It packed the twilight air like thunder. Down in the distance a sudden door was opening on a flood of sunlight.

“On to the forging plant,” Rafferty was saying. “Damn it.”

He was turning into a darker jungle. I found myself going straight for the sunlight. I walked faster. I started to run. I ran down the aisle with that hatbox held high like a trophy. I ran out the door and past piles of rusting scrapiron and over railroad tracks. A cry burst from me. I ran all the way around that long block of buildings and caught the next bus home.

My father was sitting on the porch. I put the box in his lap. He tore the paper off. When he saw the label he got up and carried the box into the kitchen. He took the lid off and lifted the hat out carefully as an egg. He turned it in his hands and felt along the edge of the brim with his thumb and forefinger.

“It's a good hat,” he said.

“It's a Borsalino. It's imported from Italy.”

He put the hat on. The brim slanted in a salute that curved back around the white of his hair and then swelled into a rich black perfect crown. He was watching the effect on me. For an instant there was a look so shy and forlorn in his eyes that I had to turn away from him.

“How the hell does it look?” he said, sensing my feeling.

“It looks nice, Pa.”

Sunday we went out to spend the afternoon at Calvary Cemetery on Miles Avenue. We visited the graves of my brother and my mother. I had brought a bottle of soapy water and a pair of scissors. I trimmed the grass around their stones and then I washed the stones and cleaned the letters of their names. My heart was filled with such love that I wanted to embrace my father. I held his arm when he climbed into the bus. I sat close against him. He was wearing the new hat. Everyone looked at him. It seemed that everyone took pride in him.

After supper I went over to see Peggy. By then I was loaded with pity for myself and for my father. Surely Peggy would realize that I needed and deserved her love. Her mother told me that she had gone for a ride with Edmund Hatcher. I walked up to the coffee house and watched a pinochle game until midnight.

It was on the way home that I saw Peggy kissing Edmund in the car.

I stopped alongside the car. I put my head in the window to be sure of it. They were locked together in the dark. It seemed horrible to me. Fascinated, I put my head in farther as though expecting something better and worse to happen. Breathlessly I waited. There was nothing to do. I backed away and went home. All that night I lay awake listening for the last beat of my heart.

The next day there was shocking news about Peggy. I heard it in the morning and then I heard it after work from my father.

“She's getting married at the end of the summer,” he said.

“I know all about it,” I said. “I knew it all along.”

“The boy's buying a ring for her. You lost the girl, too.”

“I guess I never had her.”

“I see things for myself.”

“I don't mean it that way.”

“Either you had the girl or you didn't.”

“Well, I didn't.”

“It was right there for you. You haven't got it in the clutch.”

“That's got nothing to do with it.”

“Nothing to do with it? By now I'd have the girl following me around with a mattress on her back!”

“A little louder. I don't think they can hear you in Lincoln Park.”

“I'd have to padlock my bedroom door to keep her out at night!”

“You should be ashamed of yourself.”

“The shame is on you, clown! Take a look at that other boy. He's like a wilted stalk of celery. I used to put boys like that in my pocket and forget about them. I never even asked their names. They say his nose bleeds. His nose would bleed when he heard my footsteps!”

“I thought it was settled between us. I really did.”

“I know, I know. I was watching you. It was watermelon on her porch. It was music on the harmonica. It was blushing and sighs in the park. Did you seal it with a kiss?”

“It doesn't make sense. One night she's kissing me and the next thing I know she's going out with him. And now she's getting married. Well, I don't care about her now. I really don't. She hasn't got any respect. For herself or for me.”

“Wake up! What the hell could she expect from you? A girl thinks of her future. That other boy's got a job in a bank. They're training him for a big job. He even goes to school at night. He does everything while you pick seeds out of watermelon and watch a horse's ass!”

“Wait then. Why should she be kissing me and whispering in my ear if she's going to marry him? Tell me that?”

“The girl is ready. Do you need a set of instructions? Get that pint of whiskey. It's not too late. Take her up to the park tonight. Wait, wait. Bring her here. I'll take a long walk. Sign your name.”

“Do you listen to yourself when you talk?”

“Don't you know you're supposed to love your neighbor?”

“You're loose in your talk, Pa! And you're loud!”

“Haven't you got any blood in you? I'm diving into my grave and I still feel whips on my back! Ten years younger and I'd bring that girl down in her tracks! Right or wrong, fire the cannon! War is war!”

The arguments went on day after day in the slow tightening heat of summer. Rumor had it that Peggy was planning to be married in September. One desperate night after failing to see her again and again I drank two glasses of whiskey and put the pint in my back pocket. I took the harmonica and went out on the porch. I was waiting for that boy to bring Peggy home. New hope was bubbling up in me. I would give her a long drink of whiskey. I would whisper to her and devour her with kisses. I would tell her splendid things. Suddenly it would be a night of high triumph. I would sign my name with capital letters.

It was after midnight when I heard the car at the corner of the alley. Presently they were strolling toward me. I moved back into the darkest corner of the porch. They stopped right in front of the house. Peggy turned into his arms. They kissed. I thought it was heartless of her to turn to him right in front of my house. Now they were moving on. Trembling, I came down the steps. I watched them come together again under the trees. I threw that pint of whiskey high and far in the night.

One week later there was a party to celebrate the engagement of Peggy to Edmund. My father and I were invited. We stayed home. I was rocking on the porch when Peggy came looking for me. She showed me her diamond ring. She asked if I would play the harmonica for her guests. I was stunned. I looked at her.

“Will you, Paul?” she was saying. “We'd love to hear it.”

“Are you serious?” I said. “Now it's time for me to ask you. Are you? What do you think I am? The entertainer at Lincoln Court?”

“My goodness,” she said.

“What goodness is that? Tell me.”

“What's the matter with you?”

“Nothing's the matter. You ought to be ashamed of yourself. You need a little music for your party and you thought of my harmonica. I'm sorry. I only play when I feel like playing!”

“Well, Paul, I'm sorry I came over. And I came special to get your father, too. I thought he'd enjoy himself.”

“You were wrong. My father never enjoys himself.”

“Don't act so silly.”

“What do you know about my father? Are you going to tell me about my father? I'm telling you he never enjoys himself. He hasn't enjoyed one single thing in ten years. Why should he enjoy your little party? What is this? Is everybody supposed to be happy now?”

“Never mind, Paul, never mind. I'm sorry you feel like this.”

“Like what?”

“The way you feel.”

“It's the way my father feels. He's right. And you're not sorry. You're not sorry about anything. It's all words with you and not me. You don't know anything about me. I'm the one that's sorry. I'm sorry I feel anything at all for you!”

“What's the matter with you tonight?”

“Tomorrow I'll be all right. I'll go out on the watermelon wagon and lie all day in the sun. And I'll burn these feelings out of me. And then I won't feel anything at all. I'll be like you. And I'll tell you what. I'll make up a big song to celebrate it. Listen for it.”

“Good night, Paul.”

“And I'll be playing that same song on your wedding day. Only louder. I'll be sitting in the park across from St. Augustine's. Look for me. And maybe I'll be playing that night at your reception. And I'll be dancing to my own music. Because I'll be free! Forever!”

She went away. I sat rocking and rocking. I rocked myself close to tears. My father came out puffing his pipe.

“I'll be waiting to hear that song,” he said.

“What song?”

“Your swan song. You were almost singing it right then. Now I'd like to sit in my chair awhile. Buy a chair of your own if your life is finished. We'll hold hands and rock together.”

Everything was going wrong. My heart seemed to be melting away with the days of that summer. Now it was the delight of my life to start arguments with my father. First thing in the morning I played the harmonica. He woke with a curse. In the afternoon I came through the door playing to wake him from naps. He woke with a curse. All I talked about was my job on the watermelon wagon. I told him I would be known as the watermelon king.

One afternoon I brought home a police dog. That beautiful black dog had strayed into the alley. He was near full growth and yet eager as a puppy. He answered every whistle and seemed to be going in every direction at once. I saved him scraps of meat from supper. They were seasoned with hot pepper and he started to run in widening circles with his tongue hanging out. I gave him a piece of watermelon. Next day I took him out on the wagon. He put his head in my lap when I played the harmonica. He feasted his eyes on me. He gave sudden barks and wagged his curving black tail. Everything filled him with delight. I called him Prince and took him home.

He was thrilled. He was barking and sniffing and racing around the house. He bounded over chairs and under the table and in and out of every room. He growled my father out of the bedroom and then plunged into the cellar where the old smells of wine and cheese and mice made him so excited he was barking as though to burst into tears with all his luck.

“Where the hell did he come from?” said my father.

“Let me introduce a prince, Pa. The last of his line.”

“Out he goes.”

“Not so fast. I just bought him. One hundred dollars.”

“Are you out of your mind?”

“It includes a whip to train him. He's a German Shepherd. A real champion. Look at those ears. He hears everything. Look at those eyes. He sees everything. Look at that nose. He smells everything. There's only one thing wrong. He's like me. He can't figure anything out.”

“Get him out of here. I don't want a dog in this house.”

“What a team you'll make. You can sit on the porch and bark at everybody. And then you can bark at each other.”

My father was snarling and so Prince bounded up as to a brother and stood there with big soft paws on his chest. For a moment they were dancing around the kitchen. My father threw him aside.

“Grab him!”

“He'll be a watchdog for us, Pa.”

“What's he going to watch?”

“The house and things.”

“Is there anything worth stealing?”

“He'll warn you about things. He'll protect you.”

“From what? All that's left is death!”

“Wait, Pa, wait. I've got it! We'll make a hunter out of him. We'll take him out at night on a big chain. And then we'll turn him loose. We'll get revenge, Pa!”

“Revenge?”

“Revenge on the neighbors! Revenge on the South Side for this smoke and dirt! Revenge on Cleveland! Revenge on life for smashing all our plans and everything!”

“By Christ, I really think you're losing your mind!”

He caught the dog and led him out. Prince was licking his hands and whimpering to win him over. It was no use. Prince ran around the house twice and then scratched at the door. He sat on the porch and when he heard a noise his black ears went up like wings. There was such innocence and beauty in him that my heart broke. Suddenly I was thinking of a lifetime of days and nights without my Peggy.