He was very good, scared me a little bit.
Im monotony?
Where did you hide the bread crumbs?
He turns around and walks back toward her.
Other people bought some too.
Claire placed her arms around Sweet Papa Cream Puff and hugged the stuffing out of him.
Hang up darling hang up and find another phone booth thank you for the jewels the pearls and the emeralds and the onyx but I havent changed my mind theyre quite quite beautiful just amazing but I havent changed my mind youre so kind but I have done the right thing painful as it was and I havent changed my mind --
His rough, tender hands not wrapped around me.
What?
He was a huge man and said that he was a living legend.
What?
What?
Smile.
Harris went to see Madam Olympia, a reader and advisor. Her office was one room in a bad part of the city. Chicken wings burned in a frying pan on the stove. She got up and turned them off, then got up and turned them on again. She was wearing a t-shirt that had "Buffalo, City of No Illusions" printed on it.
You have to be optimistic. Be be be. Optimistic.
You spent six dollars on these?
Sarah decided that she and Harris should not sleep together any longer.
What?
I worked very hard and bested him in nineteen twenty-three. June of that year.
Sarah was surprised to find that what she had told Dr. Whorf was absolutely true. She was fully miserable.
What?
Smile.
Lawnmower. His rough, tender hands wrapped around the handles of the lawnmower. Not around me.
She says, "James, I. . . hate. . . you."
What?
The float is a secret, Harris said. Many men dont even know about the float.
What?九-九-藏-书-网
Oh me oh my.
He remembered her standing over the toothpaste with her face two inches from the toothpaste because she couldnt see it without her contacts in.
Fifty dollars.
What?
What?
Maybe its everywhere, Claire said. A pandemic.
The bread crumbs!
I am bored to tears with this sort of thing, Madam Olympia said. To tears to tears.
Fine, Harris said.
Oh my oh my oh my, Claire said.
This is the filthiest phone booth Ive ever been in, Harris said to Sarah.
What?
We have not slept together for three hundred nights, she thought. We have not slept together for three hundred nights.
Guy comes out of this house, wearing a suit, carrying an attaché case.
Breaded, she said.
She reached into the bag and pulled out a smeary plastic tray with six frozen shell steaks on it. The steaks looked like they had died in the nineteenth century.
At the eleventh hour let me play you a little thing I wrote in the early part of the century I call it "Verkl?rte Nacht" that means "stormy weather" in German, I played there in Berlin oh about --
My life is hell, Harris said. He sketched the circumstances.
She says, "James?"
To tears to tears to tears.
The filthiest phone booth I have ever been in.
I studied him.
Harris said, What about hugging?
When do they find out?
Tell me about yourself, she said.
Sarah calls Harris from the clinic in Detroit and floors him with the news of her "miscarriage." Saddened by the loss of the baby, hes nevertheless elated to be free of his "obligation." But when Harris rushes to declare his love for Claire, hes 九-九-藏-书-网crushed to learn that she is married to Sarah. Hoping against hope that Harris will stay with her, Sarah returns. Harris is hung over from drinking too much the night before when Sarah demands to know if he wants her. Unable to decide at first, he yields to Sarahs feigned helplessness and tells her to stay. Later, they share a pleasant dinner at the Riverboat, where Claire is a waiter. Harris is impressed to learn that Sarah refused to join in his mothers plan to dissuade him from becoming a policeman. Claire is embracing Harris before his departure when Sarah enters the office. When Harris is caught shoplifting, Claires kid sister, terrified at having to face a court appearance, signs for his release. Missing Sarah terribly, Harris calls her from New Orleans; when she tells him about becoming chairwoman of Claires new bank, he hangs up angrily. Although theyve separated, his feelings for Claire havent died entirely, and her growing involvement with his new partner, Sarah, is a bitter pill for him to swallow, as he sits alone drinking too much brandy in Sarahs study. Sarah blazes with anger when she finds Claire in the hotels banquet office making arrangements for Harriss testimonial dinner, as Sarah, her right leg in a cast, walks up the steps of the brownstone and punches Claires bell, rage clearly burning in her eyes.
Good behavior is frequently painful, Dr. Whorf said. Shit you know that.
Cold as death.
Right, Harris said. How much do I owe you?
Youve stopped watering the plants my mother always said that when they stopped watering the plants that was a sure sign of an imp九_九_藏_书_网ending marital breakup.
Living legend, he said.
Six dollars! Claire said. This guy came into the laundromat and said he was making deliveries to restaurants and some of the restaurants already had all the steaks they needed and now he had these left over and they were only six dollars. Six dollars.
What?
Harris, Claire said to her husband, youve stopped watering the plants.
This musta been bout nineteen twenty-one, twenty-two, he said.
Well you know the gents they dont know what they after they own selves, very often.
How do you want to cook this fish? How do you want to cook this fish? Harris asked.
Freud said, Claire said, that in the adult, novelty always constitutes the condition for orgasm.
What?
Fine!
Hugging.
He looked to the future.
There was one other man, at that time, who had part of my fame.
Wow, Claire said.
Harris drunk again and yelling at Claire said that he was not drunk.
Cold as death, she said.
Fellow named Red Top, hes dead now.
What?
You know what I saw this morning? he asked. Eight oclock in the morning. I was out walking.
I have done the right thing the right thing. I am right.
They go through phases. As they grow older. They like to think that their futures are ahead of them. This is ludicrous, of course --
Claire came in wearing her brown coat and carrying a large brown paper bag. Look what I got! she said excitedly.
Well, Harris said, me too.
What?
I dont think that, Harris said.
What?
By a lucky stroke Harris made an amount of money in the market. He bought Claire a beautiful black opal. She was pleased.
Sarah said that she would have a ruling on hugging in藏书网 a few days and that he should stand by for further information. She pulled the black lace mantilla down to veil her face as they left the empty church.
Optimistic, her mother said, they go through phases. As they get older. They have less tolerance for monotony.
What?
Sarah visited Dr. Whorf, a good psychiatrist.
Claire heard: How do you want to cook this fish?
What?
What?
Sweet Papa looked away.
Your mother reads too much.
Worse, she said, woooooooorrrssse.
Hes going to work, right?
What?
The New York Times will be published every day and I will have to wash it off my hands when I have finished reading it, every day.
Claire telephoned her mother. Her mothers counsel was broccoli, mostly, but who else was she going to talk to?
Ludicrous, of course, but I have never yet met one who didnt think that way until he got played out then they sink into a comfortable lassitude take to wearing those horrible old-geezer hats. . .
The community whispered: Are they still living? How many times a week? What is that symbol on your breast? Did they consent to sign it? Did they refuse to sign it? In the rain? Before the fire? Has there been weight loss? How many pounds? What is their favorite color? Have they been audited? Was there a his side of the bed and a her side of the bed? Did she make it herself? Can we have a taste? Have they stolen money? Have they stolen stamps? Can he ride a horse? Can he ride a steer? What is his best time in the calf scramble? Is there money? Was there money? What happened to the money? What will happen to the money? Did success come early or late? Did success come? A red wi九-九-藏-书-网g? At the Junior League? A red dress with a red wig? Was she ever a Fauve? Is that a theoretical position or a real position? Would they do it again? Again and again? How many times? A thousand times?
He was wearing a white coat, Claire said. He had a truck.
As will I, to the best of my ability.
He gets about ten steps down the sidewalk and this woman comes out. Out of the same house.
Hats with the green plastic bills, golf hats or whatever they are --
Diseased, stolen steaks?
Behind the Cheerios!
I feel worse than you feel, she said.
Shes wearing a robe. Pink and orange.
What? Claire said.
I didnt name the "Sweet Papa Cream Puff Blues" by that name, he said. It was named by the people of Chicago.
Ill bet he had a truck.
Woman wakes up in the middle of the night, Madam Olympia said, she goes, what you thinkin about? You go, the float. She goes, is the float makin us money or not makin us money? You go, it depends on what happens Wednesday. She goes, thats nice. You go, what do you mean, you dont understand dick about the float, woman. She goes, well you dont have to be nasty. You go, Im not being nasty, you just dont understand. She goes, so why dont you tell me? Behind this, other agendas on both sides.
Claire met Sweet Papa Cream Puff, a new person. He was the house pianist at Bells, a club frequented by disconsolate women in the early afternoons.
Claire will continue to be wonderful.
What? Harris said.
Those was wonderful days.
Oh oh oh oh.
I had two or three situations on the problem.
Zum, Sweet Papa Cream Puff sang, zum zum zum zum zum.
Six perfect treble notes in the side pocket.