And with a wider grin. White gloved. Do I know anyone anymore who wears white gloves? Or this ebony cane. But it's this round face flowering angelically about a bud of pearly teeth and a roar of laughter right in my own. Get away, Percy Clocklan. Get away. The dirty ould madness coming upon me. Get away.
Into the speechless face of Dangerfield.
"Why you sneaky whore, Dangerfield, why didn't you tell me you were in London? For Jesus sake are you on your way to the grave?"
"Percy, if it's you, I can only say I might well be and I need a drink"
"I was going to ask if you had a mouth at all."
"I've got a mouth, Percy. But you've given me a terrible fright."
Percy Clocklan pointed with his black cane up the sidewalk to a lighted window. There was singing inside. Come ye merry gentlemen. And they came. Into the bar and surrounded by song. Two brandies.
"May I have a cigarette, Percy?"
"Anything. Anything you want. Keep the change, keep the change."
"Percy, I take all this on faith. Although from the taste of this brandy I'd say I was in a saloon bar at the Christmas. But allow me to point out that up till a minute ago you were dead."
"O the whores believed me."
"Malarkey was the only one with reservations. Said you wouldn't miss getting your money's worth out of the journey. All others were believers. But Jesus I'm very happy to see you alive and prosperous looking."
"Prosperous looking? I am prosperous. O they believed me. I finished off a bottle of Irish and thought it would be a shame to waste it. So I put the note in. I knew ould Malarkey would deny he ever knew me. And Jesus what about yourself?"
"Percy, I'm down. Things seem to get worse by the day. But I'll manage. Where were you going ? "
"Going to pay a surprise visit to Mac's for this party when I saw you standing out there on the pavement as if you had no home. I couldn't believe my eyes. I frightened the life out of the driver. You look a disgrace. What are you wearing at all? Bloody ould sacks and newspapers"
"Haven't seen my tailor for some time, Percy"
"Well you'll bloody well see him with me. I'll have you made one of the finest suits in England"
"Percy, tell me. Where did this prosperity come from?"
"Never mind where it came from. Never mind that. But I worked me ould fingers to the bone and got into a good thing. Now I'm making bags of money. Rolling it in. I left Ireland and I told myself I was going to make money and have plenty to drink and fuck. I've even bought meself a Rolls"
"Surely you're joking."
"Joking, me tit. I'll take you for a ride in it"
"This is too much for me, Percy. Christmas, the little boy Jesus and the cold Bethlehem all at once. I'm finished."
Clocklan reaching into his pocket, withdrawing a black wallet.
"This is the only thing I've left, that I arrived in England with, and I stole it from ould Tony's jacket in the kitchen with him in the back screaming for a cup of tea."
"Magnificent"
"The dirty eegit himself made it"
"A fine piece of work."
"If he'd get his ould carcass out of the pubs he'd be away."
Clocklan took five five-pound notes and handed them to Dangerfield.
"Percy, you don't know what this means."
"I know what it means and fair enough. But you never crowed over buying a drink or whined on like the rest of them. Bunch of pigs, the whole lot of them sitting on their arses whining. Whining for their mothers. And me relatives who wouldn't give me a smell of soup or a dirty ould shilling want to see me now because I'm pissing pure gold. And the rest of them talking their mountains of crap"
"Percy, I'm very grateful."
"Don't be grateful to me. Drink up. Drink up. Don't be wasting the pub's time. And get rid of those dirty ould cigarettes and we'll get some good cigars. What's the matter with you at all, Sebastian? Where are your grand ways and silver tongue?"
"Turned to lead."
"Fetches a good price. And those rags. Jesus, get out of them. Better in the buff than them ould dirty things you're wearing. Drink up and we'll get you a decent shave and haircut."
"This is very good of you, Percy."
"Put the bloody drink in you and take what you can get while it's free and don't be asking me questions about money or the prices. Bloody Clocklan owns London. Own the kip. Me Rolls is so long it gets stuck in the traffic."
"What's it like inside? Just tell me that, Percy. That's all I want to know and then I can go to my reward."
"Have to wear a life preserver for fear of drowning in the softness."
"More. More. Eeeeee."
"And a compass so's not to get lost inside."
"Great."
And they went across the street to a barber who wrapped Dangerfield in towels and covered his face with puffy cream and drew a razor across his fair cheek. Then the vibro machine. In the corner, Clocklan engaged a Jap in conversation. A few little clips at the back of the neck and a bit of smell juice sprinkled all over. A bit of powder for the face, sir? A bit, please. And I think we've done an excellent job with the singe, sir? O aye, excellent. We are shipshape now, aren't we, sir ? I'd say ready to put to sea.
Anchors
Aweigh.
30
Arriving at MacDoon's. Hello, hello, hello. Mac standing with open arms. Receiving. In this limbo. For the repose of pawned souls. And Clocklan how did you get so rich. Woman's earnings? Or fly by night or hundred to win. Come in all of you.
"Tell us Percy"
"I pay me taxes to the King and me an Irish blue blood talking with the likes of you. Before I'm finished I'll have me own militia to keep you shanty Irish out of my way. And Dangerfield, get out of them ould dirty rags. Get out. And put something decent on your back. Here's me address. Take a taxi to me house and don't be pawning me things and put on one of me suits so you won't be making us all look like tramps the sacred night before the birth of the greatest Irishman of them all. Sure, he wasn't a Jew."
Dangerfield on the Brompton Road, hand raised and a taxi pulls up. To Tooting Bee. They say it's great for mental hospitals. And across the Thames. French letters floating out to sea. Ought to auction them off in Dublin. Natives would go wild over them. Tell them they're waterproof socks and can hang them on the line to dry. Mary doesn't like them to get in the way. And now she's on the stage exposed to the grossest type of immorality.
Through all these strange suburban streets. Over there is a clock tower like a crazy moon. And up to this bell which glows in the dark. The face of a young girl saying Mr. Clock-Ian phoned to tell me you were coming and to show you to his room. Through this dark drab house. Canes galore and hats. Young woman, you're from Ireland. And you're Mr. Dangerfield. O Mr. Clocklan has told me a great deal about you. But I don't believe all he says about Ireland, I've never seen any of the things he tells happen. O they happen all right
Following her up the dark stairs. A strange painting of mountains on the wall. In the bedroom a pink bed and desk covered with newspapers and a picture of a wild face. And she says Mr. Clocklan is a great collector of art but they don't mean a thing to me. And she says I like to know what I'm looking at And would you know what this was if I showed it to you?
Dangerfield took a black speckled tweed from the closet And I look so well with this first white shirt since when. And put on this nice green tie. Socks and shoes. Cane out of the hall. And a bit of paper in this hat to make it sit just right Bye bye now, you're a sweet girl. It was a pleasure to meet you, sir.
Down the brown stone steps and this transformation must make the taxi man confused. Pardon my saying so sir, but you don't look like the man who went in. I'm not except for my underwear. Quickly back to the city now. And I think straight to Trafalgar Square for a look at the tree.
And look at the bright lights. O it's good to see. I've come out of many a sunless room. And Piccadilly. Driver. Can you hear me? Go round the circus. O I feel part of it now, the
smiles and singing. Look at them out there. I can't get enough. And I've got to have more. I know the pubs are jammed.
This car sped in and out the streets. By tall office buildings and I picked out the little lanes and said driver down there fast to see if there's madness or breaches of morality in dark doorways. And see that door there. Stop and come in for the brandy that's in it And now I'll go and phone them from that fancy phone booth.
"Is this you, Mac?"
"It's not Cromwell nor his mother. A letter here for you."
"Destroy it"
"From O'Keefe."
"Thank God."
"What's keeping you Danger? From reports you are laced with quids and as I've many times told you—I will not desert you now. And further in the matter of money there are lots of Americans with us tonight and I'm sure they will be glad to meet a brother in a foreign land."
"Good. I need that Earth erupting golden udders. Clocklan's one who's seen me right"
"I've just wired the Pope to canonize him the instant his heart misses a beat. And, Danger, I bought you a kidney, a fine beef one and stuck it with garlic. Now will you get your mouth over here so's I won't have to be giving it to the likes of these other hungering creatures. They stand looking over my shoulder at the blood. I'm frying it with my best bacon fat and as you know, the fat is hard to come by. I think we have discussed that?"
"O aye, we came to the conclusion that fat was hard to come by and in particular, bacon or fat of pig. Mac, I love this life. My hands are beautiful white and exquisite to boot I'm taking dose note of my performance in front of these rich as opposed to the many poor I've known in me time. And I feel at home. And I've something to tell you in strict confidence so spread it everywhere. I know that my reedemer liveth."
"Danger, I'm really touched. I knew beneath that cold, hard exterior there beat within you a Christian heart. And I've another thing to tell you and perhaps a shock. Mary's coming tonight, and she's got a film contract"
"You're not serious."
"Jesus is my judge. She's a good looking girl, Danger. Wouldn't be past a little carnal knowledge of her meself. I think she likes you."
"I'm fond of her."
"I think you might well consider the reconciliation. With you behind her Danger, you'd both be in the films and it's the general opinion here that you'd cut a fine figure on the screen."
"I draw the line there. Now my kidney. This is very good of you, Mac. Now would you wait till you hear me coming down the steps and then plunge it toward the pan and just before it touches, turn it over and then put it on my plate?"
"Am I to assume, Danger, that you are out for blood?"
"For blood Bye bye"
"Bye."
The walls are panelled here. And the people rich. The lyrical quality of money is strange. I better look to my fly because women are staring at me. Mary an actress. Dreadful. Pity. I've got to do something about it. I'm to blame, may have even put the idea into her dark head. If she goes to fat they'll fire her. I believe she'll screw her way to stardom. Pole by pole. Like others do to marriage. And some to poverty, fewer to riches, less for love and of course there are those who do it for a dirty old thrill. Thank God there are still some who give it up for life. Now driver, fast to the Minsk House, scene of the reincarnation.
The room was jammed. Just enough space for a foot in the door but I drove through to the smell of my cooking kidney. They wanted to look at me and I showed them, and even got up on the table for the slow dance of the moo cow.
"Percy, it's a strange house you keep in Tooting Bee and a lovely maid."
"Keep your dirty fingers away from me help. And me bloody cane. Will you look at him with me bloody cane? Keep them. And give me part of the kidney"
"Percy, you're welcome to whatever I possess in this world."
"Don't come the hound and give me the bloody kidney."
Mac with smiles brought forth the rare organ and it was set upon wildly. Dangerfield withdrew from this savagery with a raised eyebrow. Mac handed him the letter over the heads. What's the news? Look at my white cuffs. Look. And this tweed is some tweed. Clocklan said something like eighty-four shillings a yard.
U.S.A.
Dear Hoodlum,
This ship had no ballast and we were tossed like peanuts all the way to Bermuda which for me was curtains. But the ship's crew were damn good skins and gave me enough money to get to New York grimy and broke. Now let me tell you just one thing; if you have ever entertained the idea of coming back here, no matter what your condition there, I have one word of advice. Don't I turned on my accent full blast when I got to Boston but found little encouragement from friends. Another thing. I went out with a Radcliffe girl to see if I could finally carve out a normal sex life. My efforts met with blowing and no throwing which makes me think I need to see the coo coo doctor.
What about you? And that woman who worked in the laundry and the other one, the boarder? And tell me, how do you manage to get so much ass? What's the secret and what am I doing wrong? I'm going mad. As much as blowing is classically significant, I don't find it a substitute for the real thing and to complicate matters, I don't even know what the real thing is. Every day I walk down Brattle Street hoping some old lady will break her leg getting into her car and with my European aplomb I'D rush to her assistance and she'D say, my dear boy, aren't you sweet, won't you come and have tea with me when I get out of the hospital. But no one has so much as even tripped so far. I saw Constance Kelly too. Her face is covered with pimples. I went up to her and turned on my accent and she laughed right in my face. Jesus, I'm homesick for the ould sod. I even broke down and wept in Harvard Square with Constance and do you think she held my hand and stroked my brow? She just turned on her heel and ran.
Do me a favor. See if there are any jobs open for lavatory attendants in London and I'D come back. But in closing I want you to remember this, that this is America and we out-produce, out-sell, out-manufacture, out-fight and out-screw the rest of the world but the latter is elusive.
God bless,
Kenneth O'KEEFE
(Absentee Duke of Serutan)
Easy now, Kenneth. This is the way you do it Just walk up to them and pinch them right in the arse. Ah what tender meat, baby. But if all else fails. Remember, in France they have the guillotine. Cut it off altogether. And Mac, Fm sure, would send you a false one if you ever needed it again. I spot a blonde head over there with gold spangles.
And I hear hymns. Away in a manger. Taxis collecting outside. Follow the leader. Out this hall and through the mouth behind this blonde girl. I can smell her. We're all here together, rabbit stew and dumplings.
On the street, Dangerfield approached by this shining girl.
"Excuse me, you're Mr. Dangerfield, aren't you?"
"Yes."
"Mr. MacDoon tells me you're an American. Is that right?"
"Yes."
"Well I'm an American and I'd like to go in your taxi. I think Americans ought to stick together. What are you doing over here?"
"I'm—"
"That's swell. I came here for Christmas. England's so rustic. And this taxi is quaint. Meet my friend, Osgood."
"How do you do."
"His name's Osgood Swinton Hunderington. Isn't that nice?"
"Excellent"
"Let's all ride together. My name's Dorothy Cabot. I've got a middle name, Spendergold."
"Mine's spice."
"Ha ha. Gee I'm glad we're going to ride together."
Three of them in the taxi. Past the packs of choir boys and mothers lugging red toys, Mary with a film contract. No one can tell me about the law of contracts. And Mary I'm going to have a word with you. Running wild in London and perhaps you've put your picture up on one of those public notice boards for gentlemen to take your measurements. And I'd say they were partial to the big ones. Pumpkins. Like one I saw when Mac went into a shop to buy a tin of Australian corn beef. And that was when Mac told me about designing the brassiere. About the uplift
and to get them to point out a little. To preserve the supple look and a certain degree of bounce. We agreed the bounce was extremely important in separating the real from the false. And Mary I'd say yours were nothing but the truth. And this Dorothy here has two tiny pearls hanging from her ears. Her hair a soft curve round the back of her head. And Mac I'd suggest that Dorothy here had the pear shape which you said was rare and in demand. I'll move over a little and take a look through the open coat. Just as I thought, the strapless kind. And Dorothy you've got a pretty jewel on your pale winter breast. And hairless hands. Mine are cool and joined. I've not often been a man for light hair, preferring the black, the deep, the West. But you're rich and I prefer that. But from the poor the lilies grow and roses too. I'm a fair flower.
Osgood turns to Dangerfield.
'And do you like living here, Mr. Dangerfield?"
"Very much. I think it might be said I love England."
"Well, that is a compliment you know. I hope Dorothy will come to like England as much as you do."
"But I think it's swell already."
"I'm trying to show Dorothy some places of particular interest. Perhaps you would know of something Mr. Dangerfield. I thought I got off to a rather good start in having her meet a celebrity like Mr. MacDoon. He is delightful isn't he."
"Perfectly."
"But, of course, I am, you know, a little shocked by some of his things. Gives one a bit of start the first time you know. The Irish have such vitality and wit And I do think wit is essential"
"But Osgood, he's just wonderful. I just love that little red beard of his. So cute. He'd just slay them at Goucher. He's so virile and mature."
"Where are you from in the States Miss Cabot?"
"Call me Dot New York, but I've outgrown it. But Mommie and Daddy live upstate. We've got a house in Cora-wall here but I've never been yet."
The Ginger Man Page 30