The Dada Caper
Page 8
Betsy winked at me.
She said he’s a detective.
She said Ammson wants to hire you back.
She said at five hundred dollars per week.
She said he seems to think it might be better for all concerned.
She said he told me he has a very hot international case for you.
I said I don’t need a very hot international case.
I said I already got a very hot international case.
Betsy said he told me this has to do with smuggling.
I said smuggling what?
Betsy winked at me.
She said I think he said mushrooms.
She said into the Black Forest.
I said tell Ammson I am otherwise occupied.
I said tell him I am on a big United States government thing.
I said I got to find Nivlek Ysteb that sonofabitch.
Betsy winked at me.
She said don’t make snap judgments.
She said Nivlek Ysteb just might be a very nice person.
She smiled an impish smile.
She winked at me again.
I said Betsy you better get that eye examined.
The steak and eggs hit the spot.
Steak and eggs wasn’t all I got.
55
…there is better things to do than just sit around drinking…name one…
Monroe D. Underwood
Betsy had a call that afternoon.
I said I think I’ll go over to Wallace’s and have a few.
Betsy said why don’t I just drop you off at Wallace’s?
She said I’ll pick you up coming back.
She said that way both of us can have a few.
I shrugged.
56
…oncet I knowed a feller what wrote a song about the Gobi Desert…don’t recall him making much money on it…
Monroe D. Underwood
Wallace was a little under the weather.
He popped for a bottle of beer.
He said I feel terrible.
He said I am going to dump this den of unspeakable iniquity.
He said I am going to move to Wyoming and raise mountain lions.
I said is there a booming market for mountain lions?
Wallace said I don’t know about that but they don’t got no air pollution in Wyoming.
He said it’s the air pollution gives me these here headaches.
He said air pollution and them Sox.
I nodded.
I said I understand all about that part.
I said the part I don’t understand all about is the part about the mountain lions.
Wallace said well I got to do something with my time.
He said why I could go bananas just sitting around on some goddam mountaintop.
He said a man should consider things like that.
I said you know it never entered my mind.
It started to rain.
There was big thunder to the west.
Old Dad Underwood came stomping in.
He kicked a barstool.
He said &@#$%¢*!
Wallace said don’t kick that barstool and stop saying &@#$%¢*!
Old Dad Underwood said don’t mess with me sonny.
He said I am in one highly dangerous state of mind.
He said I may just kill somebody.
Wallace said what’s the matter did somebody steal your mineral oil?
Old Dad Underwood said I will tell you what’s the matter.
He said I just met some dirty sonofabitch named Smith that’s what’s the matter.
He said now my record is busted all to smithereens.
He said now I ain’t nothing but just another goddam has-been.
Wallace said ah it was ever thus.
He said fame is but a fleeting thing.
Old Dad Underwood said you can just knock off all that philosophy jazz and get me a beer.
Wallace said well cheer up.
He said you still ain’t met nobody named Ignatz Riffniak.
Old Dad Underwood said that’s on account of there ain’t nobody named Ignatz Riffniak.
He said you just made that name up.
Wallace said yes and that ain’t all.
He said I also just made up a song.
He said this song is about Wyoming.
Old Dad Underwood said somebody already made up a song about Wyoming.
Wallace said well that don’t bother me none nohow.
He said look at all them songs somebody made up about Ohio.
He said the name of my song is “When the Golden Beer is Foaming in Wyoming.”
Old Dad Underwood said oh Jesus Christ.
Wallace fixed Old Dad Underwood with a gimlet eye.
He said all right wise guy let’s just see you make up a song.
Old Dad Underwood said I heard somewheres Wyoming is a dry state.
He said hell a man can get a drink in Ohio.
Betsy came in.
She sat in a booth.
I bought her a highball and sat with her.
I said I thought you had a call.
Betsy said I got rained out.
I said how can a whore get rained out?
Betsy’s eyes flashed.
I said how can a call girl get rained out?
Betsy said he wanted to go in the grape arbor.
I said that don’t make no sense.
I said the grapes aren’t even ripe yet.
I said what was wrong with the bedroom?
Betsy said his wife was painting it.
I said maybe we better go before something terrible happens.
Betsy said why don’t we wait until I finish my highball?
I said by that time it may be too goddam late.
Betsy finished her highball.
It was too goddam late.
Wallace sang “When the Golden Beer is Foaming in Wyoming”:
When the golden beer is foaming in Wyoming
That’s when I’ll be coming home to you
Little sweetheart of the great big canyon
We will have a brew or maybe even two.
I said my God Betsy why don’t you ever listen to me?
Betsy applauded Wallace’s performance.
Wallace turned beet-red with pleasure.
He sang “When the Golden Beer is Foaming in Wyoming” again.
During the encore Old Dad Underwood fled the premises.
Beer streamed from his moustache.
Betsy said oh Wallace that was simply beautiful.
She said so sentimental.
She blew Wallace a kiss.
Wallace broke a quart of Jack Daniels.
57
…oncet I rode with a woman driver…I gonna tell you flat out oncet was aplenty…we was in a funeral procession yet…
Monroe D. Underwood
We drove homeward through heavy gray rain.
The traffic moved sluggishly.
Betsy didn’t.
Betsy drives like an utter maniac.
No offense to utter maniacs intended.
Some of my best friends are utter maniacs.
Betsy glanced at me.
She said a penny for your thoughts.
I shrugged.
I said I was just thinking.
I said I was just thinking of the great rapport existent between you and this overpowered vehicle.
I said it is uncanny.
I said I am awestricken.
I said I am so goddam awestricken that I will thank you to let me off at the next corner.
I said I will flag down a meteor or a comparable means of safe conveyance.
Betsy said stop crossing yourself.
She said you aren’t even Catholic.
She said besides we’re almost home.
I said the Germans were almost to Moscow.
Betsy slowed down.
The last twenty blocks took nearly a minute.
58
�
�drinking with a woman is better than going thirsty…but not much…
Monroe D. Underwood
When Betsy came out of the bedroom I was sitting on the couch.
I was reading a copy of Eagles magazine.
Betsy was wearing powder-blue pajamas.
Very sheer.
Betsy picked up the newspaper and curled herself into a big chair.
Like all the beautiful cats in the world.
After a few minutes she said I see here that necrophiles can now go to heaven.
I said who says so?
Betsy said the National Unified Council of Churches.
I said does God know about this?
Betsy said it doesn’t say.
She said what is that you’re reading?
I said something of consequence.
I said Eagles magazine.
Betsy said oh that’s just an old pulp thing.
She said my grandfather always read that stuff.
She said where do you get them?
I said this place in New York got about a million of them.
I said get a load of this.
I read to Betsy from “Hell in the Clouds” by Arch Blockhouse:
Biff Brimstone kicked left rudder savagely. He jammed the stick against the instrument panel. The golden Spad heeled over and slammed out of the sun down down down in the wake of the frantically fleeing fuchsia Fokker. The wind wailed through the brace wires like berserk banshees. Biff Brimstone hit the triggers and the Vickers twin machine guns yammered out their doubly deadly diabolical duet of death.
I grinned at Betsy.
I said how about that kiddo?
Betsy yawned.
She said Chance what do berserk banshees sound like?
I shrugged.
I said probably something like wind wailing through brace wires.
Betsy snapped her fingers like a craps shooter.
She said why of course.
She said I should have known that.
She went back to her newspaper.
The thunder rumbled and crackled.
Lightning hung in the dark sky like bright broken worms.
Betsy leaned back and stretched.
When Betsy leans back and stretches any number of interesting things happen.
Betsy folded her newspaper.
She dropped it on the floor beside her chair.
She said it will probably rain forever.
She said let’s get drunk.
I closed the Eagles magazine.
I looked Betsy right in the eye.
I said Betsy getting drunk is retreating from reality.
I said it is candid acknowledgement that we are no longer capable of coping with our problems.
I said it is surrender pure and simple.
Betsy said look do you want to get drunk or don’t you?
I said you better believe it.
Betsy went into the kitchen.
She was back in a trice with an ice bucket and a quart of vodka.
I said Betsy how long is a trice?
Betsy said I have no idea.
She said why?
I said you were back in a trice.
Betsy placed the ice and the bottle of vodka on the coffee table.
She said what else do we need?
I said I could sure use a glass.
Betsy said I’ll be back in half-a-trice.
59
…when I stop to think of all them there things I allus wanted to do it brings to mind all them there things I never got done…
Monroe D. Underwood
An hour later the thunder and lightning were gone.
There was only the steady flailing rain.
The FM purred “Moonlight Serenade.”
Then “Deep Purple.”
Then “Falling Leaves.”
Betsy said oh isn’t this cozy?
She said with the storm out there and you in here.
She said right where you belong.
She said with me.
I said I got to admit I’ve made worse stops.
Betsy said tell me about this Nivlek Ysteb.
I shrugged.
I said I just got to find him that’s all.
I said the United States government wants him.
I said Nivlek Ysteb is a bad mother.
Betsy said what happens when you finish the job?
I said the government gets Ysteb.
Betsy said then what?
I shrugged.
I said I don’t like to think about then what.
I said Ysteb is all that stands between me and punching a clock in some goddam factory.
I said remind me to thank him for the reprieve.
Betsy said Chance if you weren’t a detective what would you like to be?
I shrugged.
I said smart I guess.
Betsy said oh come on now.
I said I don’t want to tell you.
I said you’ll think I’m nuts.
Betsy said no I won’t.
She said we’ve all had our pipe dreams.
She said would you believe that I always wanted to join the Salvation Army?
She laughed a short hard laugh.
She said oh dear God.
I said well you’d sure have to change uniforms.
Betsy said now tell me about you.
I said I think I’d like to own a little neighborhood tavern.
Betsy winked at me.
She said something like Wallace’s I’ll bet.
I shrugged.
I said yeah sort of.
I said if I owned one the very first thing I’d do would be put Alte Kameraden on the jukebox.
Betsy winked at me.
She said when you get your tavern can I help you with it?
She said I’d make one hell of a barmaid.
I said well don’t buy any aprons just yet.
Betsy winked at me again.
I could see that her eye wasn’t improving much.
60
…being domesticated is every man’s secret desire…it just might work if he didn’t have all them there other secret desires…
Monroe D. Underwood
Late that afternoon the rain packed up and moved east.
The sun came out just in time to go down.
The vodka bottle was empty.
I walked over to the window.
I nodded to Winston on the window ledge.
I stood there looking out.
Betsy said what are you doing?
I said I am looking out of the window.
Betsy said well you certainly fooled me.
She said I would have sworn you were playing poker with an iguana.
I said iguanas are lousy poker players.
I said they aren’t much at dominoes either.
Betsy said what I meant was what are you looking at?
I said a black ’74 Mercury parked just north of my car.
I said there are two guys in it.
Betsy said what are they doing?
I shrugged.
I said well from here it would appear that they are sitting in a black ’74 Mercury parked just north of my car.
Betsy said will you please stop being silly?
I said it’s a tough habit to kick.
Betsy winked at me.
She said perhaps Nivlek Ysteb is in the car.
She giggled.
I said look that’s not funny.
I said that Communist bastard might blow up your apartment.
I said you just put up these new drapes and everything.
Betsy winked at me.
Betsy said Chance I believe you’ll find Nivlek Ysteb where you least expect.
I shrugged.
I said when I get him do you know what I’m going to do?
I took a deep breath.
Like before a dose of castor oil.
I blurted it out.
I said I’m going to marry you.
Betsy jumped up.
She said I am going out for more vodka.
She said get me U-Haul’s number quick.
I said I’m not drunk.
I said I’m tired of running in circles.
Betsy said well so am I.
I said I never knew a man who married a whore.
Betsy didn’t correct me.
She laughed instead.
She said Chance you’ve never known a man who didn’t marry a whore.
She said all women are whores.
She said every woman has her price.
She said money or thrills or status or revenge or whatever.
She said we’re for sale sweetheart.
She came over to the window.
She put an arm around me.
Winston hopped around nervously.
He chirped a few bars of Alte Kameraden.
He hit a clinker or two but he gave it a pretty good shot.
Betsy looked up at me.
She said Chance would you really marry me?
I shrugged.
I said why the hell not?
I said a factory worker needs a lunch-packer.
Betsy winked at me.
She said maybe it won’t come to a factory job.
She said perhaps there is a better way.
She winked at me again.
I said I’m worried about that eye of yours.
Betsy kissed me.
She said last one in bed is a sissy.
Living with Betsy wasn’t all that bad.
61
…oncet I knowed a feller what wouldn’t drink nothing but nightcaps…wonder what they put in them there things anyway…
Monroe D. Underwood
Betsy and I spent the next day just loafing around the apartment.
Winston sat on the window ledge and preened.
Betsy didn’t get any calls.
That night we played casino.
Betsy is a terrific casino player.
I ate a slice of chocolate fudge cake.
I had a few cans of beer.
I listened to Alte Kameraden on Betsy’s big set.
Betsy said where does Winston go at night?
I shrugged.
I said I never meddle in his affairs.
I read a story in Eagles magazine.
About nine o’clock I called D. L. Ambercrombie.
He said did you find any of that marked money yet?
I said no but I’m working on it.