28
On Sunday morning, holding Mary's black gloved hand, they turned into Earl's Court Station. Lovers warmed and wrapped with smiles and looks and little words whispered in the ears. And I am newly shaved and laced with stinging lotion because Mary you say you like so much to rub your cheek against mine.
Ushering her in the train. When you cross those legs like that Mary it makes me gulp. I see you've done a bit of the plucking around the eyebrows of which I don't approve.
They came up from the Underground at Victoria. Where a few bright faces went by. And then along the Buckingham Palace Road and Semley Place and into this red brick church. Through the green curtains to the music and gold.
People scattered over the floor touching foreheads to the ground. I smell the smoke. And there's song. Come out of those altar doors with the balm and blessing and touch me. And put some on Mary too. And when I go to my last bed I want you all to wear this gold raiment, and put lots of balm on the coffin.
"How do you like it, Mary ? "
"It's wonderful. All the music. Makes me feel all strange inside. It makes me feel I want to go back to the room. Will we?"
"Jesus, have you no reverence in you at all."
"I know it's awful. I can't help it. But how long does it go on, when does it end?"
"Goes on all morning. See they come and go."
"It's strange. What are they?"
"Russians."
"I wish I were a Russian. It's so exciting."
"It's that"
"And the men with beards. Would you grow a beard Sebastian?"
"I'm a little conservative"
"I always wanted to marry a man with a beard"
"Come up now and we'll get a bit of this frankincense"
And they went up to the little group for blessing. Danger-field put a fistful of change as offering. The motor birds are coming with lots more from across the seas. And I want to be loved for my money.
With church bells ringing, they came out and went into a white-walled cafeteria for tea.
"You know, Sebastian, how they have all these things here. Churches of all kinds and the trains running all over under the city and you'd think that the way they were doing with us in Ireland that they wouldn't have time to build all this."
"British find time to do a lot of things, Mary"
"Will we go right back to the room after this tea?"
"Mary, really. Just a little walk in the park first. Breather"
"I want to try those other ways you said there were."
Sitting facing one another. Hunched Mary gleaming at him over the cakes. Mary you're the very devil for it. But I must have a stroll in the park. Catch my breath. O I know you think I'm able for it night and day with lights off and on but it can wear out like everything else. Just let's take this quiet walk, go up Bond Street so's I can get an idea of the things I'll be needing from now on. And may even have to see the odd disguise because some friends get very close when there is largess.
They got on the bus to the park. Those enormous gates with cars streaming through. And there's Rotten Row between the trees. Horses galloping by. Must give them awful big arses, pounding and prancing up and down. I feel all sin starts in the park. Like marriage begins in the dark. And ends with the lights on.
"Mary, we'll walk to the round pond."
"What's that?"
"Where they sail boats"
"And then will we go back?0
"Why do you want it so much, Mary?"
"I don't know why. I just feel like it I even felt like it before I ever had it Sometimes even when I was kneeling praying at a Legion of Mary meeting"
"A fine organization"
"Don't be such a liar. You don't think it's a fine organization. Isn't that a short way out of the park?"
"We're both Legion members, Mary. I'll have you know I'm in good standing as well. Young girls like you just after cock with not a trace of religion left"
"The Legion can go to the devil."
"All right, Mary, if you want to be like that, but let me say this much. If it weren't for the Legion in Ireland, everybody would be fucked to death. Archbishops as well. And every nun pregnant"
"You don't want to take me back to the room."
"Not a bit I'm just a little sensitive about the Legion, that's all. There's a bit of good in everything. Everything's good. Everything. I can see by your eyes you don't believe me. All right Taxi. Straight back to the room. Straight back"
Mary pulled across the curtains. I can see them outlined. Says she likes to wear tight things. Every time I take off my trousers you give a gasp.
And they stayed in the room till Monday. Passionate Mary. And there on Tuesday. Mary relentless, regardless. But on Wednesday with a gray dreariness general over the city and sprinkle of cold rain, he was called to the telephone to hear MacDoon say there was mail of an official-looking kind. And kissing Mary between the open door and Mary I think you're as hard as nails. And I guess I've been driving you constantly with my hammer. But don't cry if I'm gone too long or grieve. Go to your sewing machine and whirr out a little tune. Put in some yellow thread and make me a flag to wave.
Down the four flights of green carpeted stairs. And at a quick pace, up the street. I've got a nice little niche up there with Mary. She can't get enough. And I can't say I'm capable of much more. Got to ask the Doon for advice. They say if you don't give them enough they go looking elsewhere. Send me apples from New England and a few spices from the East as well. Keep me supplied with juice. O.K. MacDoon what have you got for me? I'm a little drained with Mary after so much. And I can remember times in the days of my youth, spent tinkering with buttons, straps and pins, twisting, pulling and breaking, trying to get it. Now I wouldn't be up to it. Just take it off, darlin'. This is surfeit for sure. A man who reveled in saucy escapades and perversion until it brought about his death at ninety-seven. Mary can be petulant. Didn't like the look in her eye when I asked her to hand me my socks from the back of the chair. Sign of rebellion. Might get to be the hard woman after awhile. Got to watch it. And keeps her own things in her own drawer and her own towel. A bit scruffy anyway. Had me by the wrists when she was on top with that look, see if you can get out of this one. I've got a few things up my sleeve to deal with that nonsense. She didn't like it much when I slipped my arm around her leg and gave it the Egyptian twist until she was biting her lip and almost cried.
"Mac, for God's sake where is it?"
"O I've got it, Danger. Now quiet your poor suffering soul and Jesus give me a minute to tell you a little story. Now once there was a man in Ireland walking along a country road and he met two little girls whom he asked to come and play with him. He said it was just a naughty little game and he would give them a bag of chocolates. And so the little girls played the game and he gave them the bag. When the man was gone they opened it and it was filled with stones."
"Stop. Stop. Give us it for Christ's sake. Where's the letter, the letter?"
"Now take a seat. May be your last in poverty. And the only way to enjoy richery is to remember paupery days. Reports, Danger, are coming in that you haven't been out of the bed since she arrived and I'll tell you straight to your face that it's a disgrace that a good Christian such as yourself would indulge in such lasciviousness as to keep you indoors for three days,"
"Mac, I'm beside myself. My heart can't take this type of treatment"
"I've only one request to make. That I give it to you on my silver platter."
"Give it to me on any fucking thing. Serve it with your prick if you like but give it to me."
"Ah here we are. Here we are Danger, on me own silver platter dating back to the time of the Geeks who were Gooks from Gaul."
A finger parting the envelope. Unfolding this bond paper. The law. At the end, eyes riveted on this:
—a sum held in trust to provide an income not to exceed six thousand dollars per annum which income is to commence upon your attaining the age of forty-seven at which time�
��
You'll find me prostrate and completely mad.
Mac swilling hot water in his little brown teapot. Said it was a special kind of tea he was using from Shaba Gompa.
All I want
Is one break
Which is not
My neck.
29
Christmas. Lying here on my back listening to carol singers in the street Two weeks ago today I woke up in this room and Mary was gone. Left a note on the little table and said she loved me anyway and only hoped I didn't mean all the things I said to her.
And Mac had said he met her on the street and talked to her and she was asking for me and how was I and did I eat enough and why did I have to behave like that when she was willing to help. Mac said she got a part in a play. And a job posing. Outsizes in underwear.
I've not enjoyed this desperation. But I've never once said I'll give up. Mrs. Ritzincheck says she must have the rent O I know she's just a little anxious and doesn't really mean it
If I wet this towel here I can put it over my eyes and I'll feel much better. Don't worry, don't despair, save hair. Heave to, head into the wind, sails aback and I'll ride this out even though most decks are awash and I'm taking water amidships.
On my plate this morning I found just an extra rasher and even another egg and Mrs. Ritzincheck said I was a very interesting person to talk to. She's a fine looking woman about forty. Not past it for sure. But please don't take advantage of me.
And last week I went to the National Gallery in Trafalgar Square where they say these pictures are priceless. I sat on a comfy chair and had a little nap. And went for walks till my shoes gave out But Mac said he had a pair in the kangaroo feet and would I trade mine. And now me shoes are hopping around the Abbey Theatre.
And this is the afternoon before the birth of Christ Good will towards men. How about a few quid as well? I'm thin and worn but not yet up to selling me body to the medical colleges or landlady either. Mac told me there was a party tonight with pucks of food and drink. Each time I subtract twenty-seven from forty-seven it leaves twenty. Well I've waited before. That's what they all say now. That's what Mary said. that waiting would get me nowhere. At least Mac was sensible enough to take me around to the museums to let me see all the engines and machines and the boat models. And even this big pendulum they have to show the world's rotating. I could have told them that. And after he took me to Chelsea and bought a bottle of wine to have with the roast beef and salad rolls and I said to him. Mac, I can look back over my life now and see certain things. And would you say. Mac, that marriage put me down. But I was in love, her straight blonde hair like a Swede and perhaps her slim light limbs drove me to the altar with maybe an odd push from the in-laws.
Mac and I just sat there in that cultivated pub and I said I wasn't being sentimental but I had to tell him what it was like over there. How the leaves crackled and the bright moons. New England air rich and clear. Women good enough to eat. Ripe summer tans and arses which wagged. wow. But Mac, for display purposes only. Keep off the grass. And don't you see how it could drive me down on my knees weeping? And I thought I'd go back and settle in the Hudson Valley or along the Housatonic in Connecticut. But no. I'm the month of October. Facing winter forever. And I can't go back.
Then Mac said, easy Danger. No tears. Now come along and we'll take a radio taxi for a thrill.
We went to a strange suburb and in a door and up stairs and Mac said meet Alphonse, so I said how do you do. Then I had to take a piss and he said use the sink and I remembered how Englishmen piss in the sinks of France and even their own and I felt well that's all right for the English and no doubt they taught the poor Irish the same only they could never get to France due to the cost and language, so I said if you don't mind I'll use the bowl And we discussed the wages of sin and agreed they were high. After this little meeting I picked up a flowerpot and threw it through a bank window. Mac was gone in a flash and said I was unstable.
Next day on the Earl's Court Road I had drink taken and they said, rather unkindly, that I was seen running down the center of the street swinging an umbrella and that I attacked poor MacDoon who only asked that I desist. They said I belabored him severely about the ankles and Mac told me I was incorrigible and a ruffian, which, of course, was quite true. They took me away in a wagon and put me in a room with bars. And I've never been treated so well before. A bobbie's wife baked a cake for ma and I beat them all in chess and they all said I was a most amusing type of chap and if they were all like me, why a bobbie's life would be a paradise it would. They said I would have to pay a visit to the American Embassy.
So I went. Wearing a Cossack hat. And I think I caused a stir. Someone asked me was I a spy and they brought me to a man sitting behind a desk cleaning his fingernails. He looked at me and said nothing. Then he brought out a file stuffed with papers. He went through them shaking his head up and down. He asked me could I remember my serial number in the navy. I said I only knew it was high. He said that's bad. I got worried and said it was low. He said that's worse. Then he leaned over towards me and said how do I know you're not an impostor. Buddy, I wish I were. He got on the phone. He looked through the papers, and said you've obviously spent some time in the British Isles and I said in Ireland and Great Britain because Malarkey insists on things like that and he said it's all the same to us bud. I watched him while he said Miss Beef check on case A4&353, and then he said he was a very busy man but looking through this file of yours Mr. Dangerfield which is the longest and most complicated I've ever seen, I can see you've had a few scrapes here and there, owe money but there's no sign of your being disloyal to the United States. I thought we would both laugh together but I only got a chance to show my teeth. And I thought before I leave here the least I can do is to take advantage of a good toilet. And I went down stairs a bit shaky on my feet due to the interrogation and through this door and the fact that there was a woman with her back to me combing her hair didn't disturb me in the least. So I went into one of the booths and did my little bit. Stole the box of toilet paper, but the seat unfortunately was well attached. I'm sure it would have given my broker a fit. But it's an indication of the times we live in. When I came out of the booth there were screams the like of which I haven't heard since Bedlam and a woman come right up to me and yelled, get out, right into my face. Whereupon I slapped her for her crass vulgarity. Someone must have pulled the fire alarm because a bell began to ring. I just said to myself, Blessed Oliver, I'll see you raised to sainthood if you get me out of this one and I'll even pay for the candles I lit before you in Drogheda but get me out of this. Fingers were pointed at me. They said there he is. There was nothing left but to abandon ship and I made a dash for it. I got ten feet when an obvious football player tried a tackle and were it not for another college boy coming the other way I would have been finished but they met head on. I spidered away up the stairs. Howls of virgins on all sides. With only one girl hanging on to a remnant of me mackintosh and I knew I could at least forsake this strand and ripped it loose. I went out the door like a shot with the marine guard coming to attention.
Yes, out there they are singing. O little town of Bethlehem. And Mary left me thirty shillings and a towel. They say, throw in the towel.
I must get up off this bed. Mac says the party will cheer me up. A little wash first. Down trousers. God it's getting thin and worn, old before its time. Pubic hair going gray. I hear in the New World they have dyes and permanents. Some, they say, even have it dekinked but you can't pay much attention to such rumors. Anything for sensation. I see a few Christmas decorations in that window over there. Think I'll pin something on my curtain and have a little Christmas all of my own.
This hall cold and black. Lights down there in the station make me feel so pitiful. People with red toys. I know the pubs are jammed. I know they are jammed. And in the Dublin right now I could be hanging on to the rim of a round. Sucking it back free, not noticed for the festivities afoot. Close up my little cell and put the
key safely away and find my way down these stairs and out
Hesitating in front of the house. Looking up at the window. The singers have gone up the road and there's that woman coming out of her house with tightly rolled umbrella which she is hitting on the pavement I think just trying to attract my attention. Ought to go up and say. look here it's Christmas and let's you and I be merry together. If you don't mind, get out of my way. But, madam, I've watched you undress every evening, doesn't that mean something to you? Nothing but that you're a frightful peeping torn. Madam I resent the inference. Get out of my way you tramp. O aye. The buses are bright and cheery and laden. I know the pubs are jammed.
Dangerfield crossed over Earl's Court Road and stood in front of an antique shop, rubbing his shoes on the back of his trousers. Put his hand into his pocket, took it out and held an open palm to the sky. Turning to watch the traffic in its Christmas Eve swarm. A taxi drawing to a screeching halt
The door of the taxi slams. Dangerfield turning away. And turning back suddenly. A man. With a cane squeezed under his arm, handing the taxi money and turning with a grin. I'm mad. Absolutely out of my mind or body or is this a street in heaven or are we all riding a fast road to hell? Or am I seeing an impostor or bogus bugger?
The Ginger Man Page 29