He still read, and he still occasionally thought back to his childhood on 138th Street, pleased that he had risen above it, if only in a small way.
He went back to the old neighborhood when Danny was called into the Army. He had thought that his war would be the last war, and he was surprised and shocked with the flare-up in Korea. He bought Danny a silver identification bracelet, and then he went to the party in the now-heated tenement. He felt nothing for the old neighborhood, oh, perhaps a passing wistfulness, but nothing that lingered. He had gone to see off an old friend, and he met other old friends there, but there was nothing deader than a dead friendship.
He should have told Danny about picking up souvenirs. There had been a lot of souvenirs lying around in France, but he’d never touched any of them.
Danny, on the other hand, wanted something to bring back to the old neighborhood. He had stooped to pick up a souvenir Tokarev in Korea, and the pistol had set off a land mine, giving him a bigger souvenir than he’d bargained for. The souvenir was still lodged in his left leg, and Danny had discovered upon his discharge from the Army that not many prospective employers backed up the respect they mouthed for the symbol of the Ruptured Duck when the duck was in reality ruptured. He’d worn out a good many pairs of shoes, limping despondently from one unresponsive office to the next, until Griff had finally located him with Julien Kahn. The job had done wonders for Danny, restoring his badly demolished confidence. He’d married Ellen, a girl from the old neighborhood, and they were now expecting their first child.
“I was just coming in to show you this,” Danny said, extending a memo sheet toward Griff. Griff read it quickly.
EFFECTIVE MARCH 1. SINCE FIRE REGULATIONS PERTAINING TO SMOKING IN THE FACTORY PART OF THIS BUILDING WHERE HIGHLY INFLAMMABLE CHEMICLES ARE USED DO NOT EXTEND TO COVER SMOKING IN THE NINTH FLOOR OFFICES, I CAN SEE NO REASON FOR FURTHER PROHIBITION IN THOSE OFFICES. IT WILL NO LONGER BE NECESSARY TO VISIT THE REST ROOMS WHENEVER A CIGARETTE IS DESIRED. EMPLOYEES MAY FEEL FREE TO SMOKE AT THEIR DESKS, NOR WILL AN OCCASIONAL CUP OF COFFEE THERE BE FROWNED UPON, EITHER. A RELAXED ATMOSPHERE SHOULD MEAN A HIGHER RATE OF PRODUCTION, AND THAT’S WHAT WE ARE SHOOTING FOR.
SIGNED:
“That pompous ass,” Griff said. “It will no longer be necessary to visit the rest rooms,” he mimicked. “This is Joe’s way of saying too many people have been goofing off on company time.”
“I thought you and Joe were buddy-buddy,” Danny said. “What happened? He giving you some static?”
“A little,” Griff said.
“Well, he’s stepping into a big job,” Danny said. “This smoking business suits me fine, though. I never did like the smell of urine with my cigarettes.” He shrugged. “What’s this other garbage, though?”
“I don’t follow,” Griff said.
“This ‘summary’ business. Did you see that one?”
“Oh, yes. That was McQuade’s idea.”
“The Georgia peach?” Danny asked.
“He’s not a bad guy,” Griff said. “He’s got a good head on his shoulders.”
“And what shoulders!” Danny said. “Man, he’s built like a goddam ox. What’s he doing, tightening the screws?”
“No, nothing like that,” Griff said. “He just wants to acquaint himself with what everyone does, that’s all.”
“Mmm,” Danny said. “He’s here for good then? Or will this just be a short visit?”
“I don’t know,” Griff said. “I’m glad you mentioned that. I think I’ll give the Hengman a buzz later and find out what the scoop is.”
“Let me know when you get it, will you?” Danny said. “Say, have you got a minute?”
“Sure.”
“Come in here, will you? This you gotta see.”
“What is it?”
“Come, on, come on.” He limped into the Credit Department and over to where Magruder stood by the window. Griff followed him, mystified.
“We’ve got the tallest building in the area,” Danny said, smiling, “so we can see all the other rooftops. Well, every day now, for the past week, at one o’clock on the dot, just like clockwork, it happens.”
“What happens?”
“Hot Pants Harry,” Danny said.
“Who?”
“He must be on his lunch hour, or maybe his company gives him a half-hour break at this time. Go ahead, take a look.”
Griff looked through the window. “I don’t see anything.”
“No, you’re not looking in the right place. Over there, the toy factory, do you see it?”
“Yes.”
“All right, on the roof. Up against the skylight. Do you see Hot Pants and his girl?”
“Oh, yes, yes,” Griff said. “I see him but…” He stepped closer to the window. “What’s he doing?”
“What the hell do you think he’s doing? He’s doing what makes the world go round.”
“Oh, come on,” Griff said.
“I swear to God,” Danny said. “So help me, I should get struck dead right this minute if it’s not so. Am I snowing him, Magruder?”
Magruder shook his shaggy head. “This is the truth, Griff. Every day now for the past week. She’s not a bad looker, either, seems from here.”
“You mean… right there on the skylight?” Griff asked incredulously.
“They’ve got a set pattern,” Danny explained. “They come up at one o’clock, both of them together. They lean on the roof railing for a while, watching the sights. Then he puts his arm around her, and she moves away and he goes after her. They run around the roof a little, and she always leads him straight to that skylight, and bingo! up go the skirts.”
“I’ll be damned,” Griff said.
“It’s fantastic, isn’t it?” Danny said. “That poor son of a bitch probably thinks he’s putting something over on the world. But I was down on the seventh floor yesterday, checking something with O’Neill, and would you believe it, the whole damned floor was lined up by the windows watching old Hot Pants. Some of the guys had binoculars, Griff, I swear to God. That bastard is responsible for more production loss than if we had a fire in the building. We ought to charge him up to the cost of a shoe.”
Griff kept staring at the roof of the toy factory. “I feel like peeping Tom,” he said. “My God, you know, I believe he is!”
“Well, of course, he is!” Danny said. “But every goddam day, that’s what gets me! In broad daylight, with sixteen hundred pairs of eyes on him. Oh, if that poor son of a bitch only knew.”
“She’s got good legs,” Magruder said, his face serious. “When she lifts her skirt, you can see she’s got good legs. I’m going to bring my own binoculars in tomorrow.”
“We ought to get a camera with a telescopic lens,” Danny said, smiling, “and then send the developed print over to Hot Pants, whoever he is.”
“With a round-robin letter from every worker in the factory,” Griff supplied. “How does that sound?”
“And a special pair of Julien Kahn’s Roundheel Pumps for the young lady with the legs,” Danny said, laughing.