Now tell me, Mr. Genius, did your father know which one to pick? Because don't worry, Jerrychik, this subject your father could put his hands on it for you blindfolded and even with his eyes shut and the room is pitch-black! Not to mention he could also spell it for you backwards and sideways and meanwhile tell you it still comes out the same thing, which is G-E-T L-O-S-T. But God forbid your father should dare to start to spell for a person who is the world's smartest human being and is therefore supposed to know how to spell for himself.
Listen, pussycat, you don't have to stand on ceremony with me, I promise you. Go ahead, whenever you're ready, I'm ready. Go get a hammer or a dagger, whichever it wouldn't be too big of an effort for you to go get. Believe me, sweetheart, as a genius and as a brilliant child, you got a perfect right to go ahead and get whatever it pleases you for you to go get. Listen, God willing if you could spare the time from your important business for you to get up and go look for it, maybe you could lay your hands on a red-hot poker and put out both my eyes with it if this is what it takes to make you feel better. Because you know what, Jerome? Because your father just heard himself mention the subject of privacy, so he doesn't deserve whatever you decide in your mind is the very worst punishment for him?
Maybe you should call the F.B.I., Jerome.
So call the F.B.I, because your father just had the gall to try to do justice to the subject and talk to his sonny boy from the bottom of his heart of hearts.
Do you hear me, boychik? I am waiting for whatever punishment which in your brilliant opinion would be the one which your father couldn't take. Because if just breathing your father makes such a racket his pussycat couldn't hear himself think, all you got to do is pick up the telephone and tell them you want to report me for making a tumult it's a crime for a parent to make. So you'll call the G-men instead of the F.B.I. if the F.B.I. answers and they tell you right this minute they are too busy with other cases, darling, they couldn't come this instant to make an arrest.
LISTEN, JEROME DARLING, I want to give you every assurance your father would not blame you for one second if you went and got another new unlisted on top of the one you just got. But why knock yourself out, cutie guy, why? Use your common sense! You think your father would stand by and let you have to go all of the way down to the telephone company for you to wait around to all hours until they get good and ready down there to inform you as to the ins and outs of all of your new digits? Believe me, boychik, you only have to ask and your father will spare you all this heartache. Because even if with just my mouth breathing it's so loud you couldn't bear it in your brain, forget the phone company, all you got to do is speak up. Do you think I your father would deny you one shred of your happiness for one single minute? So why hesitate? A little tiny signal is all your father asks of you. You wouldn't even have to lift a finger if the uproar the blood in my veins makes happens to constitute for you such a terrible perturbance to your privacy you don't get the peace and quiet you need for you to go ahead and be a genius. You could wink, darling. Lifting a finger, I definitely do not recommend it for an artistic person. Who knows, you might strain something — it's not worth it for you to take a chance as far as a hernia. One wink, Jerrychik, and all your worries will be over. One wink from my sonny boy will be more than sufficient. Because forget it, your father will take it from there, your father will do all of the running, whereas you yourself could just sit back and relax and write for everybody another bestseller. Don't worry, don't worry, you wouldn't even have to give me a whole wink if you decide in your mind you don't feel up to it. Darling, you could give your father maybe a mini-wink if this is your decision. Because I guarantee you, sweetheart, one mini-wink from his genius and already your father will be racing up the stairs of this building, hoping and praying in his heart of hearts the management didn't put no railing around the roof so I couldn't jump without calling for assistance. Believe me, I apologize, Jerome, that your father didn't when he moved in here exhibit the foresight to go up and take a look to see the setup there in the first place.
But do I make myself clear, sweetness? Answer me, darling, it is not going in one ear and out the other? Because I want you to know that your father could not kill himself fast enough if this is what it takes for him to make sure his sonny boy gets every last ounce of all of the bliss he's as a genius got coming to him. But I ask you, pussycat, solitude? Are you telling me forever and forever solitude and seclusion, this is what it takes? Because your father is willing to learn, sweetheart, so tell me. So show me where in the book it says solitude and seclusion is the same thing as happiness and contentment, and meanwhile one peep out of anybody who adores you to pieces is such a tragedy you definitely couldn't stand it one instant. In black and white, Jerome, show your father who cherishes you where this is written. Because as dumb as your father is, the man is still keeping an open mind. But until you get good and ready to show him, in the interim don't excite yourself, darling, your father just gave you his solemn promise. If a telephone call or a postcard or a letter is such a struggle for you that you couldn't take it, even if it's only for hello and for good-bye and for I hope I didn't make too much of an aggravation for you and disturb you, then relax, precious, don't worry, one mini-wink from you will settle the whole affair. Do you hear me? One semi-demi-mini-wink and your father will be only too happy and glad to make you a present of his own dead body. And you know what, sweetheart? You wouldn't even have to thank me for it if you are too busy being a genius and a hermit and the light of my life.
Are you listening to me, boychik? Are you paying strict attention? Your father is not talking just for him to hear himself talk? Because I can't rest for a single solitary second until I make sure in my heart of hearts you heard me. Listen, maybe you should write it down as to the fact that your father is ready and willing to go to his grave in case his presence here on this earth does not give his boychik all of the privacy in 603 he needs. Also, make a note that a full wink is utterly uncalled for. A little wiggle of the eyelid like you are maybe just thinking of winking but are probably too busy with business for you to do it, I promise you your father will run next door to another building if, God forbid, it turns out that this one here they already put up a railing up on the roof. Sweetheart, I only hope and pray the upshot is I do not have to go next door and keep you waiting. As God is my judge, I'm sorry, but at my years and age, a railing, who knows, maybe I could not climb over it so fast, whereas there is meanwhile nobody up there who they're paying to give me a boost. But even if the next building it's the same story, it's okay, darling, it's okay, there's buildings here up and down the block here, and your father will just keep looking high and low until, God help him, something finally goes ahead and works out.
This, Jaydeezie, is my solemn promise to you. And all I got to say is that I am down on my hands and knees thanking God that your father still got the strength in his body to give you his sworn statement from him to you in writing. But, believe me, Jerome, if it happens to turn out that in all these years this is what you always needed, you only had to say SO. Because it's just like with the man who goes to get the suit. So he says to the tailor, "You'll make me a suit — whatever it costs, it costs, I want the best, so don't worry." And the tailor says to the man, "Okay, I'm sparing nothing. The cloth I'm getting special from Borneo, the thread I'll have made up in China, and for the buttons I am thinking in terms of a yak they got in Turkey, buttons from the horns of that yak." So the man says to the tailor, "This sounds to me like a wonderful suit, so when can I get it, this suit?" and the tailor says to the man, "A production like this, from here and from there, everything made up to order, we are talking six, eight months minimum!" So the man says, "Six, eight months! How can I wait six, eight months if I got a bar mitz-vah this Saturday and was thinking of wearing the suit?"