He didnt go right home but went to the bar for a few hours. When he got home Mary was watching t v. He said nothing, but undressed and went to bed, smoked and thought of Alberta, remembering many times the last kiss in the doorway. Before he fell asleep the baby awoke and started crying and Mary eventually came in and talked to him and bounced him in the crib. The sound of their voices seemed to come from a dream and didnt interfere with his thoughts or the memory of the kiss.
The next morning Harry washed and dressed without saying a word. Mary watched determined to say something. She was nervous, but even a slap on the face was better than nothing. As Harry was about to leave she asked him if he was coming home that night. Harry shrugged. Where wereya Friday and Satu —Harry swung his arm in a stiff arc, fist clenched, and hit her in the corner of her mouth with the back of his fist. He hadnt looked or thought, but had simply closed his fist and swung. He paid no attention to the biting sensation he felt as his hand hit her teeth nor later did he think of the fact that it was the first time he had punched her—thousands of times he had thought of it, dreamed of it, had tried—or turn to look at her after hitting her. He just swung and turned and left the house.
He rubbed his hand as he walked. He felt good. Relieved. It had been a long time since he had had his nightmare. It was not even a memory.
Harry stamped books with accuracy, retaining the silent introspective mood he had recently acquired. The men were quieter and more solemn as they picked up their signs and had their books stamped, Harrys still quiet mood allowing them to ignore him, and they walked the picket line in the same despondent way they did everything else. Most of them had lately tried to get another job, but because they were on strike it was impossible to get one, the companies thinking they would leave as soon as the strike was setded, and so they walked around the plant, nodded to each other, took out their book, poured a cup of coffee or a glass of beer, put away their signs, said goodbye and left with the same air of hopelessness. Since the incident of the trucks the police guard had been increased and the men rotated so one officer was never there more than 3 hours a week, the department thinking this would prevent any personal disputes, caused by the boredom of having to be there, doing nothing, from erupting into a major incident; and so the policemen stood their posts, chatted with each other, and watched the strikers in an officially alert and disinterested manner.
* * *
At the first meeting between the company and the union after vacations they spoke for a while, said nothing, then decided to meet again in two days. At that meeting a few of the problems were discussed before the meeting was adjourned with a decision to meet in two days. Three, and sometimes four, times a week they met, put their briefcases on the large conference table, sat opposite each other, took their papers out of the briefcases and started talking. Slowly, by almost infinitesimal degrees, they seriously discussed a few of the issues that were preventing a settlement of the strike. Summer was almost over. Harrington was under no pressure to end the strike, having convinced the other officers of the corporation and negotiating committee that the company could afford to allow the strike to continue for many more months without an appreciable loss in net income, and he did not think there was enough pressure on the union to attempt to dispose of Harry, and he was determined not to agree to any settlement until he had tried everything possible to rid himself of Harry Black.
The union would have liked to have the strike settled as soon as possible, but only on their terms: They had to have complete control of the Welfare Plan. Though the strike had been in effect for many months the union officials felt no pressure on them. Everything was going smoothly and though their personal incomes had been cut because there had been no contributions to the Welfare Plan since the strike had started, there were ample funds coming in from other unions throughout the country to take the extra money they needed from these contributions. And the men were getting their bag of groceries each week. Some of them might be getting a little short of money, which was unfortunate, but the strike would continue, for months if necessary, until it was agreed that they would retain control of the Welfare Plan. And so no urgency was felt by either side.
The President, or another member of the committee, gave a short speech each Saturday before the food was distributed. They assured the men they were doing everything they could to settle the strike—they knew the men wanted to get back to work; that they couldnt afford to stay out of work for ever; that their bank accounts were running low; and that, in many cases, their wives had to go to work—but, they also told them, they knew the men wouldnt settle for anything less than a decent contract with a decent wage and that they were going to see that the men got that. They werent going to sign any sweetheart contract and let the company continue to take the bread out of their mouths . . . and the clique whistled and yelled and a few of the others joined in and the orator descended from the platform and mingled with the men, slapping them on the back, encouraging them, and nodding to each one as he accepted his bag of groceries.
* * *
Harry went to Marys every weekend and, after the first few weeks, during the week occasionally. The first time he went there after meeting Alberta she introduced him to some of her friends and during the months that followed Harry met some lovely young boys at Marys and the parties he went to with them. When he went to Marys he no longer slid to a place at the bar near the door, but walked around looking to see who was there, nodding and sitting at tables, wondering who was standing at the bar envying him as he put his arm around a young shoulder. Most of the fairies he met liked him—he was a good fuck and he spent money— but didnt like to be with him too long too often. It wasnt just his talking about the strike that caused them to shy away, though he was a boor, but a strangeness and a feeling of uncertainty that eventually made them uncomfortable. They had all seen, kissed, sucked and fucked freaks of all varieties from men who had spent most of their lives in prisons and could be satisfied only by a boy, men who were capable of cutting a throat not only without feeling, but without reason, to men who locked themselves in the bathroom when their wives went out and dressed in their wives clothes, occasionally going to a place like Marys when they had a night out. But these men were completely obvious to the fairies and they knew just how far they could go in any direction with them. Harry was different, or at least they felt he was. There was some little something that they couldnt sense, that they were uncertain about, that eventually made them nervous. It might simply be that Harry would like to dress up as a woman and go to a drag ball, or parade down Broadway; or perhaps some day he would flip and kill one of them. They didnt know.
As summer passed, and the pleasant autumn weather followed, Harry joined his new friends when they went for a drive in the country. They would jam into a car with a few bottles of gin and benzedrine, turn the radio up and slap the side of the car in rhythm to a jazz or blues song and sing along with it, snapping their fingers, wiggling in their seats—O honey, what I couldnt do to this number—passing the bottle back and forth—taking an occasional bennie— flirting with men in other cars; or, if in the mood, they would listen to an Italian opera, sighing rapturously after each aria; telling anecdotes about the gorgeous tenor or the temperamental diva, their heads moving gently with the music; taking small sips from the bottle; squealing and pointing at trees whose leaves reminded them of a Renoir and they jumped in their seats to see a new combination of colors, each one, almost by turn, pointing to a grove that was thrilling with reds, browns, orange or gold and at ones where all the colors blended and the leaves seemed to toy with the sunlight their colors were so brilliant; and in between were the greens of pines and blues of spruces and a few times they stopped by a lake or pond and giggled as they scampered around picking up acorns or chestnuts and took off their shoes and splashed their feet in the water and giggled as they watched squirrels peek at them for a moment before dashing away; and they would sit by the water or under a tree and sip the gin, take more bennie, then
fill the car trunk with leaves, keeping some out to hold on their laps, to look at, to smell, to rub with a handkerchief, continually talking of how beautiful it was . . . and Harry sat in the back, saying little, not minding the music or their screeching over a bunch of leaves, not noticing much of anything, but happy to be with them.
* * *
Walking the picket line was less tiring now that the cooler weather had arrived. When the men finished their time on the line and handed their signs to their relief, or put them away at night, they werent sweaty or fatigued as they had been during the summer, yet they still started and ended each day a little more despondent than the day before. Though a few, while not on the picket line, sat around the office drinking beer, most of them sat or stood in small groups talking. The two kegs of beer that used to be ordered each day now lasted 3 or 4 days—Harry adding the extra money that had been spent on beer to his expense sheet—and were drunk mostly by Harry and the guys from the Greeks. And, as it got darker earlier each day, more of the men left after their tour of duty and went home to watch t v or cook supper and wait for the wife to come home from work; and some went to a bar, going home late to avoid the argument about who was going to cook and clean now that the wife was working.
The men no longer looked down 2nd avenue expecting to see trucks. The incident wasnt forgotten, but the hope that it had aroused—and the hatred that had revived their enthusiasm—was irrevocably lost and they performed their duties as strikers listlessly and hopelessly. A few of the men were able to get new jobs and their books were voided. When this was announced at a Saturday meeting boos and catcalls came from the clique, but the men were silent, some envying them, others no longer capable of anything but lethargy; and the men whose books had been voided were only thought of, if at all, when the strikers joined the hundreds of workers from the Army Base at five oclock walking up 58th street to the subway.
Daylight saving time was in its last week when the company made the long awaited concession: They finally agreed to consider allowing the union to continue the administration of the Welfare Fund. But there were conditions. A few were with respect to the amount of the companys contribution, certain aspects of supervision in the factory, and a few other items that they both knew could be negotiated easily; but they also wanted the right to discharge Harry Black. The union representatives immediately leaped to their feet and declared the demand unreasonable and unthinkable. It was more than just a case of Harry being a member in good standing and an able worker, but to even suggest that they would or could violate the trust and welfare of the membership was an insult to their integrity. Not only that, it was an insult to every union member and officer in the country. They slammed their briefcases shut and the two forces stood opposite each other haggling for many minutes before the union representatives walked out.
The company and the union had had over a hundred meetings since the beginning of the strike and had been meeting every day, for many grueling hours, for over a month now. Although neither side was, as yet, in a desperate position, pressure was mounting. The union officials knew they couldnt allow the strike to continue too much longer without a good, tangible, palatable reason to give the men. There was too much grumbling; the men were obviously dissatisfied and pressure had been slowly building up from government agencies who might, eventually, investigate the reasons for the prolonging of the strike; but now they had their reason.
Harrington recognized and realized that the men with whom he was negotiating would see the plant remain closed for a year rather than relinquish their control of the Welfare Fund and he was perfectly willing, now, to buy them off—to offer a concession— by allowing them to continue to administer it, but they had to make concessions too. The pressure on the company was increasing, but Harrington was determined to try to get rid of Harry Black and he was willing to keep the plant closed for many more months in order to accomplish this. The company could go to the end of the year without losing too much, that had been definitely established by their accountants and tax experts. Pressure was building up on the company, but Harrington knew it was building up on the union too and so he decided it was time to barter. He felt they would gladly concede Harry for the fund which they obviously could not afford to have checked. Even after the union officials had walked out of the meeting he still retained this hope, knowing that they could not possibly concede immediately, but would have to take at least a month, or perhaps even longer, to devise a method to accomplish this within the legal framework of the union.
Of course each of the union officials thought, at first to himself, of a way they could get rid of Harry without making themselves open to criticism: They could dump him easily enough and give as an excuse that he was defrauding the union of money by submitting fraudulent expense vouchers, or any number of other reasons. Actually they could tell the membership anything and it wouldnt be noticed if they told them just before that the company gave in and signed the new contract. Nobody would miss Harry.
They tossed a few more ideas around, evaluated the whole setup, and decided the best thing to do was to maintain their present position: Harry was a good man and stays on the job. Harry was a nut, but that was what made him so valuable. He continually overstepped the limits of the contract with regard to working, but this, in its own little way, helped prevent the company from trying the same thing. Harry forced the company to fight so hard, and spend so much time, getting what they were allowed under the contract that they didnt have time to infringe on the limitations the contract set on them. They recognized that Harry was the best diversionary action they had. And too, this made dealing with the company easier for the officials. Although most, if not all, of the men they had to deal with at the company hated the union, so much of their hatred was personal and directed against Harry that the union officials had a much easier time talking and, under ordinary circumstances, dealing with them. Harry, in addition to all the other functions he served, was their builtin patsy. They could never find another shop steward for local 392 as willing and as capable as Harry Black. He was irreplaceable.
But of course the real reason they didnt want to allow the firing of Harry was that if they did they would be conceding a point, no matter how meaningless, to the company; and, most important of all, if they ever allowed the company the authority and privilege to fire someone they would be forfeiting a right that was theirs and theirs alone; and if they allowed it once they might, somehow, be forced to allow it again. Yet even if they were reasonably certain that the company would not try to exercise this right again they could not allow it even once. Someone might get ideas about them. It had been a long time since anyone tried to take their local away from them ( that attempt being stopped easily with a few killings ) and if they allowed this there would bound to be someone who thought they were too weak to keep their local. They didnt believe that anyone could actually take it away from them, but they didnt want to be forced to spend the time and money to keep what was theirs, especially now that they had, in addition to many other things, the Welfare Fund functioning so nicely for themselves. Each of them had made long term loans based on their cut from the fund and keeping the books in order required time and attention and then sometimes when theres trouble things get out of hand and there are investigations and more time and money are lost.
All these things were considered and smoked and drunk over and, now that the company obviously wasnt going to fight against their administering the fund any longer, they had no need to worry. Pressure was building up, but the company must be feeling it even more to have made the offer. And now they had something to relieve the pressure, slightly, for a while. Next Saturday, before the men received their bag of groceries, they would tell the rank and file that those sonsofbitches, those bellyrobbinbastards, were willing to concede a few points if we allowed them to fire men. And, of course, they would remind the men of this each Saturday and it should prove enough to get their hatred directed actively and completely against the company. The officia
ls looked at each other. No one had anything to add. They agreed that that was about the size of the situation. Nothing more need be said. They would not give up their power.
* * *
The guys from the Greeks still came over almost every night after the picketers had left and sat around with Harry drinking beer and, if in the mood, ordering food. Harry putting the cost on his expense sheet. Harry gave them his usual rundown on the strike and, as usual, the guys ignored him and played the radio and drank and, as usual, Harry continued his narration. During the week when Harry didnt go up to Marys he would lock up the office after the guys left and go home. He hadnt said more than a few words to Mary, nor she to him, since the morning he punched her. She left for a few days with the baby after that—Harry didnt notice that she was gone—but it was even worse being with her parents so, after a few days, she came back where she could at least watch t v. Harry would go right to bed and lie on his back thinking—not noticing Mary when she got into bed, thinking of her seldom, usually only when he dropped some money on the table for her to buy food. He would lie in bed thinking not only of all his friends at Marys, but hoping, as he had so many times, that tomorrow night he might meet someone who would not only ask him to take her home that night but every night; hoping he might meet someone who would want to live with him and they could make love everynight or just sit and hold hands and feel her small, soft and weak in his arms . . . not all slimy like a ballbreakin cunt.
Last Exit to Brooklyn Page 17