Mendel, of course, had not dared make a move for Miss Hill, finding himself in the awkward position of not wanting her ever to dream that he was there so frequently for any reason other than to see Meyer Iskowitz.
Sometimes, being at death's door would inspire the patient to philosophize and he would say things like, "We're here, we don't know why. It's over before we know what hit us. The trick is to enjoy the moment. To be alive is to be happy. And yet I believe God exists and when I look around me and see the sunlight streaming through the window or the stars come out at night, I know that He has some ultimate plan and that it's good."
"Right, right," Mendel would answer. "And Miss Hill? Is she still seeing Norman? Did you find out what I asked you? If you see her when they come to do those tests on you tomorrow, find out."
On a rainy April day Iskowitz died. Before expiring he told Mendel once again that he loved him and that Mendel's concern for him in these last months was the most touching and deepest experience he ever had with another human being. Two weeks later Miss Hill and Norman broke up and Mendel started dating her. They had an affair that lasted a year and then they went their separate ways.
"That's some story," Moscowitz said when Koppelman finished relating this tale about the shallowness of Lenny Mendel. "It goes to show how some people are just no damn good."
"I didn't get that out of it," Jake Fishbein said.
"Not at all. The story shows how love of a woman enables a man to overcome his fears of mortality if only for a while."
"What are you talking about?" Abe Trochman chimed in. "The point of the story is that a dying man becomes the beneficiary of his friend's sudden adoration of a woman."
"But they weren't friends," Lupowitz argued. "Mendel went out of obligation. He returned out of self-interest."
"What's the difference?" Trochman said. "Iskowitz experienced a closeness. He died comforted. That it was motivated by Mendel's lust for the nurse-so?"
"Lust? Who said lust? Mendel, despite his shallowness, may have felt love for the first time in his life."
"What's the difference?" Bursky said. "Who cares what the point of the story is? If it even has a point. It was an entertaining anecdote. Let's order."
The Query
(The following is a one-act play based on an incident in the life of Abraham Lincoln. The incident may or may not be true. The point is I was tired when I wrote it.)
I
(Lincoln with boyish eagerness beckons George Jennings, his press secretary, into the room.)
Jennings: Mr. Lincoln, you sent for me?
Lincoln: Yes, Jennings. Come in. Sit down.
Jennings: Yes, Mr. President?
Lincoln: (Unable to suppress a grin) I want to discuss an idea.
Jennings: Of course, sir.
Lincoln: Next time we have a conference for the gentlemen of the press…
Jennings: Yessir…?
Lincoln: When I take questions…
Jennings: Yes, Mr. President…?
Lincoln: You raise your hand and ask me: Mr. President, how long do you think a man's legs should be?
Jennings: Pardon me?
Lincoln: You ask me: how long do I think a man's legs should be?
Jennings: May I ask why, sir?
Lincoln: Why? Because I have a very good answer.
Jennings: You do?
Lincoln: Long enough to reach the ground.
Jennings: Excuse me?
Lincoln: Long enough to reach the ground. That's the answer! Get it? How long do you think a man's legs should be? Long enough to reach the ground!
Jennings: I see.
Lincoln: You don't think it's funny?
Jennings: May I be frank, Mr. President?
Lincoln: (Annoyed) Well, I got a big laugh with it today.
Jennings: Really?
Lincoln: Absolutely. I was with the cabinet and some friends and a man asked it and I shot back that answer and the whole room broke up.
Jennings: May I ask, Mr. Lincoln, in what context did he ask it?
Lincoln: Pardon me?
Jennings: Were you discussing anatomy? Was the man a surgeon or a sculptor?
Lincoln: Why-er-no-I-I-don't think so. No. A simple farmer, I believe.
Jennings: Well, why did he want to know?
Lincoln: Well, I don't know. All I know is he was someone who had requested an audience with me urgently…