A tall slender form appeared in the doorway. Arky caught an aroma of expensive perfume. Then a soft agitated voice demanded: “Ozark! That you?”
Arky gasped and stood away from the wall abruptly. “Robbie! What the hell...?”
She reached out and grasped his arm. “Oh, God, I’m glad you’re here. I’m half crazy... no kidding, really ... I’m about to scream and kick…” She began to sob in such a wracked and hopeless way that Arky reached out and took her in his arms. She was so soft and delicate, smelled so sweet, that he could hardly stand it.
“I don’t know what to do with him, Ozark. I’ve had him on my hands in that little apartment of mine for nearly a week. He’s all to pieces—jumps if the telephone rings. Cries sometimes at night. I can’t stand a man crying; it drives me crazy…”
“Slow down, baby,” said Arky, shaking her gently, then holding her at arm’s length. “Take it easy. Easy. Everything’s going to be all right. Rudy’s a slob. Everybody knows that.”
“It’s Leon,” she cried. “Not Rudy…”
“What?” Arky was so surprised he released Robbie and took a step backward.
“Look. I don’t know what’s going on. I don’t want to know. But Leon keeps saying they’re going to kill him. But when I tell him to get out of town, he says he’s been out of town and they been keeping tabs on him—he just can’t get away. And when I told him to go to California he said they’d never let him get that far. I think he’s off his head myself. People get funny ideas like that, don’t they? Think somebody’s trying to kill them?”
“Sure, sure,” said Arky. “That’s probably it. Sometimes Leon has to deal with some pretty rough boys. Maybe that gave him the idea.”
“Of course they always used to be writing Leon up in the papers about what a criminal he was and also Rudy—but that’s a lot of... you know what I mean. The police even came and got Rudy and said he was suspected of killing Leon. Which is so ridiculous you can hardly laugh at it. Maybe Leon reads the papers too much. I don’t know. I don’t want to know. I just want to get somebody to help me with Leon. I can’t take it another night. Arky, you’ve got to help me.” She grasped him again. Arky slipped his arms around her and kissed her on the cheek. She smelled like a flower and she seemed so soft and warm and alive as he held her.
“What a time for love!” said Robbie bitterly; then, much to Arky’s surprise, she pushed him roughly away. “Let me alone. I never want to see another man as long as I live.” She sounded a little hysterical.
“All right, all right,” said Arky, trying to hide his anger. “What do you want me to do with Leon?”
“Keep him here. Hide him. Maybe he’ll get over this—this, whatever it is—with you around.” Robbie seemed to come to herself and glanced about her, puzzled, at the dingy alley and the shadowy, barnlike bookie room. “Say, Ozark, what are you doing in a place like this?”
“Don’t ask questions. Go tell Leon to come in. See what I can do for him.”
Robbie hesitated then reached out and touched his arm. “Sore?”
“No,” said Arky.
“There are times and times,” said Robbie. “If I don’t get relaxed I’m going to pop. I’ll be imagining things worse than Leon.”
“Go on. Get him,” said Arky, harshly.
Robbie glanced at him quickly in the half light, then she turned and went back up the alley, her high heels clicking as before.
Arky tried to calm his growing anger. The briefest gesture of rejection by a woman when he had made an unambiguous move always infuriated him. Who the hell did she think she was? Little by little, he quieted himself, remembering after a moment what Robbie had told him about Leon. A crying man! Awful! She’d really been through it.
In a little while he heard them coming down the alley, all three of them, at a slow pace. He waited, wondering. Finally they appeared: the colored man was on one side of Leon, helping him, Robbie on the other. Leon started slightly when he saw Arky in the doorway. Leon was carrying a case and wearing dark glasses. He’d raised a moustache. All the same, nobody who knew him would ever mistake him for anybody but Leon Sollas, even in the half light—with his big shoulders, his sharply cut clothes, the jaunty angle of his snap-brim hat, his general handsomeness.
“You going to take me in, Ark?” he gasped.
“Sure,” said Arky with a short laugh. “But it’s not much of a place—and everybody seems to know where I live.”
“Robbie said you would,” Leon went on, half crying. “Smart girl, Robbie. She knows everything. I don’t know what I’d do if…”
“Stop it, Leon,” said Robbie shortly.
“I’ll go back now, Mr. Sollas,” said the colored man. “You be all right. I give the young lady the keys. I’ll grab a taxi on the Front.”
“Thanks, Mo. Thanks, thanks,” cried Leon effusively.
The colored man went out.
“Who’s he?” asked Arky. “Is he okay?”
“He’s the only friend I’ve got left,” said Leon, “except you and Robbie. That’s Mo Camp. I set him up in business and he’s never forgotten it.”
Arky whistled faintly. Mo Camp was the Big Boy in the Black Belt, practically owned it, and fawned on by all the colored politicians.
“Say, wait a minute,” said Arky. “I don’t want that hack left out in the alley—that circus-wagon…”
“It’s not the convertible,” said Leon. “You think I’m crazy?”
“Whatever it is, I don’t want it out there.” He turned to Robbie. “Give me the keys.” She handed them to him without a word. “Turk,” called Arky.
The big crop-headed kid came over to them, carrying the shotgun. Leon moved back away from him behind Robbie, who stared at the gun, then at Arky, but Arky ignored both of them and explained to Turk about the car.
“Okay, sir,” said Turk.
“If the garage is closed, honk your horn till that Greek wakes up. He’ll be in the back some place. And leave that gun here.”
Turkey handed Arky the gun, gave Robbie a quick up-and-down, insolent look, then went out.
“Say, wait a minute,” cried Robbie, “what about me?”
“You?” demanded Leon. “You’re going to stay right here. What do you think?”
“Now listen, Leon, I told you that when…” She paused and glanced at Arky. “Oh, never mind. But Ozark—do me a favor. Put that blunderbuss away. It makes me nervous.”
Arky gave Leon Anna’s bedroom. After he was seated Arky told Robbie to go in the living-room and wait for him, then he shut the door behind her.
“I told you, you’d play tag once too often,” said Arky. “Now look at you.”
“I was only trying to do what I thought was best for everybody, Ark. You know that.”
“You were horsing. What is all this, Leon—are you on the list, too?”
Leon nodded, swallowing.
“Rudy?”
Leon shook his head. “Nobody worries about Rudy. He just nods and smiles and agrees with everybody. He might even be useful to them. But we’re dead, done for, Arky.”
“You may be.”
“Oh, I know you’re a fighter, Ark. But you can’t fight the wind, or shadows. The big boys just give a couple of plumbers your address and that’s it. If the first set of plumbers don’t fix the leak, they send another set.”
“One of the plumbers got a leak himself, maybe it was tough to fix.”
“Futile, Arky. They just keep coming.”
“You wouldn’t finger for ’em, is that right, Leon?”
Leon gave a jump, began to shake, then calmed himself with an effort. “What kind of talk is that?” he asked in a weak voice.
“Straight talk. Why don’t you tell me the truth, Leon? It’s in your favor. You might be riding high if you’d fingered us.”
“It’s a thing I wouldn’t do to my worst enemy,” said Leon with quiet conviction. “And as for my friends…”
Arky got up, walked over to Leon, and patted him o
n the shoulder. “Goddamn it, Leon; you may be a little on the jumpy side, but you’re all right.” He patted him hard.
Leon burst into tears. Arky started slightly and withdrew his hand; then he sat down again.
“Look at me!” cried Leon. “This is awful.” Reaching into his pocket, he took out a couple of pills and gulped them down, then lit a cigarette with shaking hands, and gradually grew quieter.
Arky leaned forward and tapped him on the knee. “All I want’s the finger. That will satisfy me. I might even die happy, like the fellow says. When you get up nerve enough, Leon, you tell me. Meanwhile, you relax. I’ll look after you. You’re safe here, no way to get to you in this room; no porches, nothing. The kid downstairs would shoot his old man if necessary. He’s a real tough boy and is going to be heard from someday. So you relax. In order to get to you, they got to get Turk, Zand, and me.”
Leon began to smile a little, then he looked about him for the first time. “You got this place pretty well fixed up, Arky. A guy wouldn’t expect anything like this from the downstairs.”
“Anna did it all,” said Arky. “Fought with me all the time to get the money out of me.” He laughed sadly. “So you see, Leon, I’d like to know the finger. Anna was a right nice woman. And the Judge ... well, he was a right nice man.”
Leon sighed and stared at the carpet for a long time. “How would I know about the finger?” he asked.
“Well, you either know or you don’t know,” said Arky; then he rose. “If you do, tell me. Okay. See you tomorrow. Hit the hay, and relax. You’re as safe as a baby in his basket.”
“Wait a minute. Where’s Robbie?”
“In the living-room.”
“She’s a great kid. Tell her I want her.”
“She’s worn out, Leon. You give her a rough time. Go to bed. Don’t worry about Robbie.”
Leon studied Arky’s face for a moment, but said nothing. Arky went out.
Robbie was asleep on the big davenport in the living-room. She was on her side with her knees drawn up and her camel’s hair topcoat thrown over her. Her face, looked pale, her cheeks hollow in the dim light from a small table-lamp in the comer.
Arky tiptoed in and stood looking down at her. “God,” he said to himself, “I never saw such long eyelashes in my born days.”
Robbie woke up with a start, then sat up quickly and drew back from Arky, staring.
“You want to go to bed?” asked Arky.
Robbie blinked a couple of times, then recovered. “Arky, I hate to say this to you, but I just don’t like the subtle approach.”
“I don’t mean that,” cried Arky. “Like you say, there are times and times. Look. There’s a good bed in that front bedroom. Go on in. Undress. Relax. Turn the key in the lock.”
“No trapdoors? No sliding walls?”
Arky laughed shortly. “What do you think this is—a panel joint?”
“What is a panel joint? I’m just a young girl, remember, and I haven’t been around much, so if it’s too awful ... be sure to tell me.”
“Well,” said Arky, sitting down opposite her on a chair, “a panel joint is a fast shuffling clip. The girl brings the sucker in. A bedroom, see? They undress. She puts the sucker’s pants over a chair for him. While they’re in bed, a panel in the wall opens, and a guy reaches in and frisks the sucker’s pants. When the sucker looks for his money to pay the girl, the money’s gone. And the girl raises a big commotion about what a cheap-john this sucker is, trying to get out without paying. The sucker forgets all about his money. All he wants to do now is to get away from this yelling dame.”
“That’s a panel joint, is it? Ozark, you must know some charming people.”
“Oh, I been here and there. Why don’t you go to bed? You look tired, honey.”
“I am—dead. But it relaxes me to talk. Especially about literary topics. Got a cig?”
Arky took out his packet, lit a cigarette and handed it to her; then he lit one for himself. They sat smoking and looking at each other for a long time.
“Arky,” she said at last, “Leon’s a lot more handsome than you are. You’re ugly.”
“Leon’s a very handsome fellow. The dames take one look at him and say that’s for me!”
“He makes me ill. His eyelashes are almost as long as mine, and his hands are softer.”
“I was noticing your eyelashes. They look real.”
“They are. Honest. Arky, you’re one of the ugliest guys I’ve ever seen in my life. Where did you get that face?”
There was a pause, then Arky asked: “What’s your name?”
“Robbie. It’s me—remember?”
“Is that all the name you got?”
“Is Ozark or Arky all the name you got? Or maybe Johnson?”
“My name’s Orval Wanty.”
“Oh, no!” cried Robbie laughing. “I wasn’t so far off with Elmer, was I?”
“Got a brother named Elmer.”
“You want all my name?”
“Yes.”
“Well, my name, believe it or not, is Rosa Maria Venuti.”
“You don’t look like no Italian.”
“What does an Italian look like?”
“I’ve seen thousands of them on the Hill. You got blue eyes, fair complexion; you’re tall and slim; and you got a build like a model.”
“All right, take me to court. But that’s my name.”
“I thought your name was Roberta.”
“I took it. Roberta Osborn. Nice meaningless name, but classy—like the Front. Rosa would get laughs on the Front.”
“So does Orval. Not that I give a damn.”
“You don’t really give a damn about much of anything, including women, do you, Arky?”
“Somebody’s been stringing you. If there’s anything in the world I like, it’s women.”
“In their place.”
“Something wrong with that? The man does his part; the woman does hers. That’s simple.”
“You know something, Arky? You’re not very far from a jerk. You look like you ought to be in the show with him and Abner. But I’m kind of nuts about you. Why?”
“Well, maybe you figure I’m an important guy, and loaded. It always helps.”
Robbie lowered her eyes slowly and stared at the floor. Arky noticed again how long her eyelashes were and how they made faint bluish shadows on her cheeks. “Yeah,” she said finally, “it always helps.”
There was a long, rather awkward and embarrassing silence. Finally Arky asked: “Where you from, Robbie?”
“Little town outside Detroit. Wonderful little town with trees all along the streets, and a big lake where you can swim.”
“Why didn’t you stay there?”
“And waste myself on the yokels? Me—the big glamour girl? Miss American Legion of 1948?” Robbie laughed ironically.
“You sound like you got a gripe. You been doing all right. Miss This-and-Thats are a dime a dozen on the Front. Why didn’t you try Detroit—close on home?”
“I did. Give me another cig?”
Arky lit one and handed it to her. “How about the Big City over the border?”
“Photographer’s model. Brother—bar the door! I decided to learn Judo. By the time I learned it, it was too late.”
“Well—what do you want to be—a nun?”
“It has its points. Arky, is there a cup of coffee in the house? I need a slight stimulant, although I must say your conversation has helped some. I’ve been living a crazy life for a week. Even you seem normal by comparison.”
Arky flushed slightly. “Listen, sister, if there’s anything in the world I am, it’s normal.”
Robbie laughed lightly and got up. “I believe you, Orval. Never had the slightest doubt. I was only trying to make a very feeble quip.”
Arky rose. “Kitchen’s back here. Can you make good coffee?”
Robbie glanced at him as they walked side by side down the narrow hallway. “I think so. Been doing it for years.”
“Young enough to tell you. Twenty-one.”
They passed the door of Leon’s bedroom. Arky jerked his thumb at it. “Leon said he wanted you. He’s in there. I told him to relax and get some sleep.”
“Oh, he’s harmless,” said Robbie. “But very, very boring. I hope he’s not too good a friend of yours.”
“He’s just a guy I know.”
Arky switched on the light in the kitchen and showed Robbie where the things were, then he sat down and watched her as she moved gracefully about. Her legs were long and slim, her feet small and narrow. Her black hair was cut almost like a boy’s but still looked thick and luxuriant.
“You were a sucker to cut your hair,” said Arky. “I’ll bet it was something.”
“Don’t you like it this way?”
“I like lots of hair.”
“Like that blonde in the front room? I saw her picture.”
“Yes,” said Arky, flushing slightly. “Like that.”
“Is that your girlfriend, Arky?”
“She was.”
All of a sudden, Robbie turned and flashed a strange look at Arky. “Orval Wanty!” she cried. “I read it in the paper. You... she...!” Robbie dropped the coffeepot and water spilled all over the kitchen.
“Yeah,” said Arky.
“Got a mop?” cried Robbie.
“I don’t know. Look in that broom closet.”
Robbie found the mop and worked in silence for a long time.
“Why did they do it?” asked Robbie in a low voice.
“Somebody gunning for me.”
“Oh, that’s awful.” She stopped mopping and turned to stare at Arky. “Maybe Leon’s not as crazy as I thought he was. Am I right?”
“Leon’s not crazy.”
“What have I got myself into?” Robbie demanded.
“Better off if you don’t know. You’re okay. Don’t worry.”
“I don’t know what I was thinking about. I guess I was out on my feet when we got here. That tough-looking kid with the shot-gun; all the hocus-pocus. That strange colored-man. I’ve got eyes. I can see. The thing was, I’d heard so much raving from Leon, that…”
Little Men, Big World Page 19