9:41

by Iannuzzi, John Nicholas;

  The light from the inside diffused out through steamy windows that bore the owner’s name in big old-fashioned gold letters. I pulled the car to the curb and went inside. Sitting at the bar, slouched on a stool, observing potent liquid mount the sides of his glass as he twisted it in his hand, was my awakener.

  “What the hell is up, man?” I asked taking off my dripping raincoat, hanging it on the little fingers of wood that stuck out from the wall. “Was it really this urgent?”

  “Jesus, am I glad to see you, Don”, said Bob with a look of wild, half bleary relief on his face. “When you hear what I tell you, you’ll be staggered”, he said with emotion, his eyes boring into me fiercely. “It sure staggered me!! I never believed it possible”. His head nodded absently as his voice trailed off into silent, unbelieving contemplation.

  “What is it?” I asked, concerned. “It better be pretty damn staggering after getting me out of bed like this. Why the hell didn’t you tell me yesterday afternoon when I met you at the plane?”

  “I didn’t know until tonight”, he said as he grabbed my arm, “until I saw Gloria”. The hurt that it became clear he was feeling, was transmitted through my arm. He pressed it in desperation.

  “Ohh? What happened?”

  His hand moved from my arm to the bar. He rested his chin upon a clenched fist. “I guess you know why the hell I went to California, don’t you?” he asked.

  I nodded I had, as I motioned the bartender to draw a beer for me.

  “I went away so I could get enough money for Gloria and me to get married. I went away so we could get married”, he repeated to himself in a voice hinting amazement, … “and I come back feeling bad enough about not having enough money, … well not having enough to, … as much as I wanted anyway, you know? I felt kind of down about that, but I thought that coming home’d have its compensations. I’d see Gloria and she’d understand, you know? And she’d help me to start over again. At least I figured she’d be something real that I could hold onto without it slipping away … I saw her tonight”, he said flatly, almost with disgust. “You know, I told you I had a date with her?” I nodded. “Well we went for a long drive, and then for a drink somewhere in Westchester. She wasn’t, … ohh, I don’t know, she just wasn’t with it, you know. She seemed to be thinking, or bothered about something. She was really, … uhh, moody. I asked her, what’s the matter, and she said, ‘nothing’. You know the way women have of saying nothing is bothering them and you know damn well something really is. I don’t know if you’re supposed to beg them to tell you or what, … but anyway, she kept saying that nothing was bothering her. Say bartender, … bring me another drink please. You want another drink, Don?”

  “No, no thanks, I still have this beer in front of me”, I replied.

  “Thanks a lot, Joe”, Bob said as the bartender put down his drink. “So she keeps this up for a while”, he continued turning toward me, “and then she turns to me and says she thinks we should have a long talk and now was as good a time as any. I didn’t know what to expect. I mean after going away to California and coming back feeling lousy, and now something is bothering my girl”, he droned on in his half desperate, half pleading voice.

  “She wanted to have a long talk with you, … what about?” I asked, urging him to continue.

  “She told me, …” He stopped, turning to face me with narrowed, searching eyes … “Don, I asked you to come because I had to talk to someone, … I had to tell somebody, … and I wanted you to come because you’ve been my buddy for years. I want you to listen to this, and just tell me what you think”.

  “I’ll try to help, Bob. What happened?”

  “She said she wasn’t sure anymore”, he said with a horrendous finality mixed with embarrassment, “that she doesn’t know if she loves me”. He looked at me furtively for a moment to see my reaction then looked down. He was quiet now, taking a sip of his beer, lighting a cigarette. “While I was away she had to go out”, he continued. “I told her to. You know, I didn’t want her to stay home all the time, or to feel bad if she did go. I told her to go out and have fun, and not to feel bad about it. You know, just to have something to do. You just can’t sit around all the time for four months”, he said trying to explain.

  “I understand. I don’t think either of you could really expect the other not to go out while you were apart, and not be selfish”, I said, trying to show I understood.

  “Well, she started to pal around with the crowd that she used to before we met …”

  “Which crowd is that, … the one in the Village?”

  “No, … just the gang in her neighborhood. There’s a whole bunch of people around there, and they throw parties all the time, and live it up. Anyway, she starts to go out with this crowd again, and in particular, she sees this guy Jim Sammison. She went out with him before she went with me. Well, you know how it is when you go around with a crowd, a lot of laughs, plenty of places to go, … you know, never a dull moment, lots of kicks. So, she starts to have fun running around the town again, like she used to. Not that she cared for this guy. She told me he doesn’t mean anything to her, but they went out on a couple of dates. She just went out with him because I wasn’t in town …”

  “Okay. She’s going out with the gang, and she went out on a couple of dates, … so? What about not being sure anymore? Where does that come in?” I asked.

  “Well, going out with the gang I guess she got to think that maybe she didn’t love me. Maybe, now that she was enjoying going out with others so much, she didn’t want to settle down. Anyway, when I get home tonight she was bothered because she didn’t know what to do. She doesn’t care about this guy, it’s that she’s just not sure anymore about me”. He stamped out a cigarette in the ash tray on the bar. “God! When she told me that, I almost went berserk. I was dumbfounded at first, you know, … then I saw red”. His hands gripped the edge of the bar. “I got so angry I almost wrecked the place where we were. I just couldn’t control myself”.

  “Take it easy, man”, I said, trying to calm a new re-excited Bob, “you’re getting all steamed up again”.

  “Yeah, I guess I do lose my head about it, … but why not, … I just can’t understand it! Here I go away to build up enough money to get married, and she does this to me! That’s what really hurts, … to think that she would do this”, he said pounding his fist on the bar, his teeth gritted.

  “Now wait a minute, … be reasonable. What did she do? She’s lonely and she has some fun and she gets a little unsure of her love. You were gone for months, you weren’t around, and she began to enjoy going with the crowd again. Now you’re back and she is really confused, what’s wrong with that? Would you rather she lied to you?”

  “No, but …”

  “No, but you don’t want to hear the truth either. You don’t really care about her, it’s just the idea that she could throw you, the great Bob, over. If you were in her shoes and felt the way she does you’d probably tell her to go to hell and then you’d be sorry. So she’s mixed up, … at least she’s big about it. Give her some time, everything will straighten out”.

  “But what she did to me …”

  “You don’t own her you know! When someone loves you, it’s supposed to be wonderful. She doesn’t owe you anything. She doesn’t have to love you. If she does it’s great. If she doesn’t, that’s, … well, I don’t know. Just give her time, she probably still loves you, … just a little mixed up”.

  “That’s what she said, … give her a little time to figure it out. But I can’t, not after what she’s done”.

  “Oh, shit, … she hasn’t done a God damn thing. Jesus, sometimes you’re really thick headed. You’re only going to ruin something that both of you wanted. She got a little doubtful, … but now you’re back to reassure her and everything will turn out all right—if you don’t mess it up with your big mouth”.

  “You really think so, … I mean really, … you’re not just giving me a line of shit to calm me down”.


  “That’s a nice thing to say. I get out of bed to meet you in the middle of the night, and you tell me it’s a line of shit …”

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that. I don’t know what I’m saying. You really think it’ll work out though, hanh?”

  “Sure. She’ll see that going out with the gang is kicks, but after all is said and done it means nothing. Love and all that is worth more than a few laughs. Just give her a little time”, I said belaboringly, hoping to have made Bob a bit calmer.

  “I told her I never wanted to see her again”, he said angrily, now reliving the scene with her. “I told her that if she could do that to me I didn’t want to have anything to do with her”.

  “Don’t be so God damned silly. It won’t kill you to give it a little time. What the hell is the difference? Besides, you’ll be just as hurt if you don’t …”

  “What d’ya mean?”

  “That if she leaves you, you’ll be hurt whether or not you try to win her back, so you might as well try. At least you have a chance then. After she comes around a little bit your love will be twice as strong. Women are funny sometimes that way. They say things they don’t mean. Just let it ride kind of easy, that’s all. Forget about it, go out and have a good time, she’ll fall in love with you and forget about the gang quick. Besides, if she doesn’t come around its better to happen now than if you were married … no?”

  “I guess, but, … ahh shit, man. It really knocked me out when she told me …”

  “Of course it did, but what the hell are you, a love dictator? I can’t see you letting your ego stand between the two of you. I’m not saying it’s all your fault or anything. You’re right, and I can see how you’d get very angry, … but what the hell. Her only sin was of unsureness. Give her a chance. If you really love her you will”.

  “But after what she did”.

  “Forget it. She didn’t do anything that doesn’t happen every day. Why don’t you go home and sleep on the idea of just giving it a chance?” Joe the bartender moved down toward us. “Give me the check for both of us”, I said. “I’ve got to get home”, I said, turning to Bob. “I have to get up early”.

  “Okay. I’ll take the check. I’m staying for another drink anyway”.

  “I’ll stay and have one with you”.

  “No, I’d rather be alone. It’s okay. Just let me be by myself for a while. I’ll be all right. I’ll call you in the morning”.

  “You sure?”

  “Yeah, yeah, go on, go ahead back to bed”, he said trying to smile, “and thanks a lot”.

  “Forget it. I couldn’t let you down. Try to think about what I said and about the whole thing a little more calmly”.

  “Yeah, I’ll try”, he said as he twisted to Joe the bartender and ordered another drink.

  “Good night”, I called back as I pulled open the door and was greeted by a misty wind.

  “Good night”, said Bob.

  “Good night now”, said the bartender.

  The air in Julius’s was filled with that faint scent of stale beer, perfume, summer heat, sawdust and people that always seems to hang from the walls of a bar, just like the dust encrusted derbies that hang from Julius’s wall and watch, and have been hanging and have watched generations go by. Those derbies have witnessed many a glance furtively thrown from one table to another; have watched many a couple walk out to some quiet rendezvous; have been there long enough to have seen the time when this here and now old woman sitting at a corner-table with grey straggly hair, a lined face bereft of ambition, of color, or beauty, the calloused hands, stood young and proud in the midst of the jubilant crowd, with her now tired head thrown high, her now retreating breast flaunting itself in front of the mustachioed young artist. The Derbies can remember how they left that evening, gay and happy, joking, perhaps just a little too full of drink, with shining eyes, flared nostrils … the Derbies witness now an old woman, shunned by other jubilant young, waiting, for whom, for what.

  Suddenly, as if from a long forgotten dream, a face flashed before me, only to disappear past me. I twisted curiously to see this face that came from my long forgotten dream. Who is that face? Who? Gloria. Of course, Gloria, I said to myself as I remembered now. She looks at and past me, our eyes meet and there is something long forgotten, unconsciously rekindled. How many times, when she had been with Bob, had I looked into those same eyes, with the same expression in them, and now, how strange to look into them and have them turn away from me in unknowingness, as if I were encased in a wall, peering out from a hole, seeing, but being unseen. Her eyes return to mine. Now narrowing as they peer intently into mine, as if to discover the secret that we two share but can’t remember.

  “Don”, she exclaimed, surprising herself with the recollection. “It’s Don Wingate, isn’t that it?”, she said smiling as she approached my table.

  “Yes, Gloria, that’s it. How’ve you been?”, I said, half rising.

  “Oh fine, just fine, and you?”, she said with a pleasantly surprised smile playing on her face. “Oh, I haven’t seen you in, must be about two years. What’ve you been doing? Still at Bradbury’s?”

  “Yes”, I replied, “still at Bradbury’s. How did you remember that I worked at Bradbury’s?” I asked curiously. “It’s been such a long time”.

  “I’ve kept check on you, so you better be careful from now on”, she said jokingly.

  “No, seriously, it’s surprising that you remember where I work after all this time. I can’t remember where you worked”.

  “Oh, I’ve changed jobs since then. I’m with an advertising agency uptown now, Mill, Tonne & Shely. Ever hear of them?”

  “No, I can’t say that I have. Please sit down, … have a drink”, I said, rising to offer her a chair.

  “Well, only one”, she said as I pushed her chair a little closer to the table. “I’m supposed to be with that short fellow over at the bar. The one with the glasses”.

  “He won’t mind us having one drink, for old times’ sake, will he?”. I looked to the bar and saw a short fellow facing us from the bar, talking to another fellow.

  “No, and even if he does, what the hell. I’d like a Tom Collins”.

  “Ray”, I called to the waiter. “A Tom Collins. Gee, it’s nice to see you again”, I said to Gloria. “I’ve thought about you many times, you, and Bob, and … hope you don’t mind my mentioning Bob”.

  “No, I don’t mind. It used to hurt at first when anyone mentioned him, but now …” She shrugged, letting her voice trail off as she let a match book slip through her hand, and then reflected upon it as it lay on the table. She looked up at me inquisitively, her head tilted a little to one side. “Does he still work with you at Bradbury’s?”

  “No, he left about five months ago”, I replied. “He works for some foreign import company downtown now. I talk to him all the time though, you know, still buddy buddy. That’s why I think of you, … we used to have a lot of kicks when we went out on double dates and all”.

  “Yes, I know”, she said somewhat sadly. Her eyes were alight with a melancholy glow. You could see Bob’s face in front of her.

  “Here’s your drink”, I said as the waiter placed a frosty glass in front of her. “I’m sorry if I make any sad memories come back”.

  “They’re not sad, Don. It’s sad that they are only memories though. Is he still, well, is he still the same Bob?”

  “Yes, the same Bob”.

  “Is he engaged or married or anything?”, she asked, trying not to show her inquisitiveness.

  “No. He’s going out with a couple of girls. Doesn’t want to be tied down anymore he says. How about yourself. Engaged?”

  “No, I haven’t found anyone who was worth getting engaged to—except you, of course”, she said trying to joke.

  “I’m already spoken for. I don’t think Bea’d appreciate my getting engaged to you too”.

  “Are you and Bea engaged?” she asked surprised.

  “For a couple of mo
nths now. Don’t know when we’ll get married, but maybe soon”.

  “That’s terrific”, she said, smiling pleased. “Give Bea my regards when you see her, won’t you?”. She sat reflecting on things past.

  “Sure”, I said to break her melancholic mood. “It’s too bad we can’t all get together again for a date some one of these days”.

  “That would be nice, but you know how Bob is. He’d probably get angry if you even asked him. He was angry as hell the last time we went out wasn’t he? Remember that night?”, she asked shaking her head slowly and sadly. “It was a week after the big night when I told him … I don’t even remember what I told him anymore, but he sure blew up. When we went out on that last date, the four of us, he just sat and brooded. Every once in a while he’d calm down and be himself for a couple of minutes and everything was so wonderful …” Gloria now reflected afar off, away from the conversation. Perhaps she again saw herself in Bob’s arms, dancing. She stopped, then took a long draught from her drink, and looked across the table at me with a pathetic, halfhearted smile playing across her lips. “He ended that night when we went home telling me it would never work out. He said it would be better if I kept going out with the gang, having fun, and didn’t worry about him. He was such a thick head. That was the last time I spoke with him. It seems like a nightmare I had a million years ago”. She stared at the matches on the table.

  “It does seem a long time”, I reflected. “Oh, oh, here comes the little guy you’re supposed to be with”, I said as I caught sight of the short collegiate looking chap with heavy-framed glasses, walking toward our table.