Clara saw Francis studying her and gave him a wink. “I knew a fella once, looked a lot like you. I had the hots for him.”
“I’ll bet you did,” Helen said.
“He loved what I gave him.”
“Clara never lacked for boyfriends,” Jack said. “I’m a lucky man. But she’s pretty sick. That’s why you can’t stay. She eats a lot of toast.”
“Oh I could make some toast,” Helen said, standing up from her chair. “Would you like that?”
“If I feel like eatin’ I’ll make my own toast,” Clara said. “And I’m gettin’ ready to go to bed. Make sure you lock the door when you go out.”
Jack grabbed Francis by the arm and pulled him toward the kitchen, but not before Francis readjusted his vision of Clara sitting in the middle of her shit machine, sending up a silent reek from her ruined guts and their sewerage.
o o o
When Jack and Francis came back into the living room Francis was smoking one of Jack’s cigarettes. He dropped it as he reached for the wine, and Helen groaned.
“Everything fallin’ on the floor,” Francis said. “I don’t blame you for throwin’ these bums out if they can’t behave respectable.”
“It’s gettin’ late for me,” Jack said. “I used to get by on two, three hours’ sleep, but no more.”
“I ain’t stayed here in how long now?” Francis asked. “Two weeks, ain’t it?”
“Oh come on, Francis,” Clara said. “You were here not four days ago. And Helen last night. And last Sunday you were here.”
“Sunday we left,” Helen said.
“I flopped here two nights, wasn’t it?” Francis said.
“Six,” Jack said. “Like a week.”
“I beg to differ with you,” Helen said.
“It was over a week,” Jack said.
“I know different,” said Helen.
“From Monday to Sunday.”
“Oh no.”
“It’s a little mixed up,” Francis said.
“He’s got a lot of things mixed up,” Helen said. “I hope you don’t get your food mixed up like that down at the diner.”
“No,” Jack said.
“You know, you’re very insultin’,” Francis said to Helen.
“It was a week,” Jack said.
“You’re a liar,” Helen said.
“Don’t call me a liar because I know so.”
“Haven’t you got any brains at all?” Francis said. “You supposed to be a college woman, you supposed to be this and that.”
“I am a college woman.”
“You know what I thought,” Jack said, “was for you to stay here, Franny, till you get work, till you pick up a little bankroll. You don’t have to give me nothin’.”
“Shake hands on it,” Helen said.
“I don’t know about the proposition now,” Jack said.
“Because I’m a bum,” Francis said.
“No, I wouldn’t put it that way.” Jack poured more wine for Francis.
“I knew he didn’t mean it,” Helen said.
“I’m gonna tell you,” Francis said. “I always thought a lot of Clara.”
“You’re drunk, Francis,” Helen screamed, standing up again. “Stay drunk for the rest of your life. I’m leaving you, Francis. You’re crazy. All you want is to guzzle wine. You’re insane!”
“What’d I say?” Francis asked. “I said I liked Clara.”
“Nothin’ wrong about that,” Jack said.
“I don’t mind about that,” Helen said, sitting down.
“I don’t know what to do with that woman,” Francis said.
“Do you even know if you’re staying here tonight?” Helen asked.
“No, he’s not,” Jack said. “Take him with you when you go.”
“We’re going,” Helen said.
“Clara’s too sick, Francis,” said Jack.
Francis sipped his wine, put it on the table, and struck a tap dancer’s pose.
“How you like these new duds of mine, Clara? You didn’t tell me how swell I look, all dressed up.”
“You look sharp,” Clara said.
“You can’t keep up with Francis.”
“Don’t waste your time, Francis,” Helen said.
“You’re getting very hostile, you know that? Listen, you want to sleep with me in the weeds tonight?”
“I never slept in the weeds,” Helen said.
“Never?” asked Clara.
“No, never,” said Helen.
“Oh yes,” Francis said. “She slept in the coaches with me, and the fields.”
“Never. You made that up, Francis.”
“We been through the valley together,” Francis said.
“Maybe you have,” said Helen. “I’ve never gone that far down and I don’t intend to go that far down.”
“It ain’t far to go. She slept in Finny’s car night before last.”
“That’s the last time. If it came to that, I’d get in touch with my people.”
“You really ought to get in touch with them, dearie,” said Clara.
“My people are very high class. My brother is a very well-to-do lawyer but I don’t like to ask him for anything.”
“Sometimes you have to,” Jack said. “You oughta move in with him.”
“Then Francis’d be out. No, I’ve got Francis. We’d get married tomorrow if only he could get a divorce, wouldn’t we, Fran.”
“That’s right, honey.”
“We battle sometimes, but only when he drinks. Then he goes haywire.”
“You oughta get straight, Franny.” Jack said. “You could have twenty bucks in your pocket at all times. They need men like you. You could have everything you want. A new Victrola like that one right there. That’s a honey.”
“I had all that shit,” Francis said.
“It’s late,” Clara said.
“Yeah, people,” said Jack. “Gotta hit the hay.”
“Fix me a sandwich, will ya?” Francis asked. “To take out.”
“No,” Clara said.
Helen rose, screaming, and started for Clara. “You forget when you were hungry.”
“Sit down and shut up,” Francis said.
“I won’t shut up. I remember when she came to my place years ago, begging for food. I know her a long time. I’m honest in what I know.”
“I never begged,” said Clara.
“He only asked for a sandwich,” said Helen.
“I’m gonna give him a sandwich,” Jack said.
“Jack don’t want you to come back again,” Francis said to Helen.
“I don’t want to ever come back again,” Helen said.
“He asked for a sandwich,” Jack said, “I’ll give him a sandwich.”
“I knew you would,” Francis told him.
“Damn right I’ll give you a sandwich.”
“Damn right,” Francis said, “and I knew it.”
“I don’t want to be bothered,” Clara said.
“Sharp cheese. You like sharp cheese?”
“My favorite,” Francis said.
Jack went to the kitchen and came back into a silent room with a sandwich wrapped in waxed paper. Francis took it and put it in his coat. Helen stood in the doorway.
“Good night, pal,” Francis said to Jack.
“Best of luck,” Jack said.
“See you around,” Francis said to Clara.
“Toodle-oo,” said Clara.
o o o
On the street, Francis felt the urge to run. Ten Broeck Street, in the direction they were walking, inclined downward toward Clinton Avenue, and he felt the gravitational fall driving him into a trot that would leave her behind to solve her own needs. The night seemed colder than before, and clearer too, the moon higher in its sterile solitude. North Pearl Street was deserted, no cars, no people at this hour, one-forty-five by the great clock on the First Church. They had walked three blocks without speaking and now they were heading back toward where they had begun, toward the South End, the mission, the weeds.
“Where the hell you gonna sleep now?” Francis asked.
“I can’t be sure, but I wouldn’t stay there if they gave me silk sheets and mink pillows. I remember her when she was whoring and always broke. Now she’s so high and mighty. I had to speak my piece.”