Флетчер Флора - The Brass Bed

“Come to think of it, I believe you’re right.”

“Sure, I’m right. You need some contrast too. You could make the other sexy woman a lowly tavern wench. What do you think of a lowly tavern wench as the other woman?”

“Sounds good to me.”

“Sure. The duchess and the lowly tavern wench. You could have this goliard try them both out for a while and then light on one for keeps. You can put a lot of suspense and sex into a situation like that, old boy. Of course you’d have to make up your mind which one you wanted him to light on. It would require pretty delicate handling, you know, to keep from offending everyone who had decided in the meanwhile that he should land on the other one.”

“Which one would you suggest?”

“Well, I go for the tavern wench myself. That’s because my heart is with the lowly. You’d be surprised how lousy lowly I am in my sentiments.”

“I expect you’re right. Most people would certainly be pulling for the lowly wench. Besides, I could make her single, and the duchess, being a duchess, would almost have to have the duke around somewhere for a husband, and it would simplify things not having the husband there to mess things up in the end.”

“That’s true,” Harvey said. “However, come to think of it, you might turn something like that into a pretty good thing. You could have this goliard land on the duchess, and it wouldn’t work out because of the duke, and then you could end it up with a lot of sad stuff by having the goliard renounce the world and go off to a monastery to be a monk or something. People really go for these tear-jerkers. Sad stuff is almost as good as sex, and when you throw in a little of both, you’ve really got something.”

“It seems like it. But I think I’d rather have him go for the tavern wench.”

“Why? Do you insist on a happy ending?”

“I wouldn’t say that I insist on it, but I think a happy ending might be permissible. In addition, it would be much simpler. Husbands can become quite complicating, you know.”

Harvey smirked. “That last remark had a bitter sound, old boy. Almost as if there were a certain amount of personal feeling in it.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Well, what I mean is, how’s Jolly these days?”

“Jolly is fine, but I don’t believe I care to talk about her.”

“Pardon me, old boy. I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“I’m not offended.”

“It would probably be good for you to talk about her. A kind of catharsis or something.”

“Do you think so?”

“I really do. Would you care to tell me if you’ve seen her recently?”

“I have. I saw her this afternoon.”

“You don’t tell me. I thought you were resolved to stay away from her.”

“So I was. I was resolved, and for a long time I kept my resolution, and then she called and wanted me to come over and have a drink. I said I wouldn’t go, but then I called her back and said I would, and I went. In the end, I was a weakling.”

“Weakness is sometimes a great satisfaction. Was it good to see her?”

“No, it wasn’t good. It was bad. Sid Pollock and Fran Tyler were there, and everyone talked nonsense, and then Kirby came in, and everyone insulted someone else. Jolly has a black eye. Kirby hit her in it.”

“The hell he did! That’s pretty rough treatment even for Jolly, don’t you think?”

“Oh, I don’t know. I’m positive if I were married to Jolly that I’d frequently want to hit her in the eye, and now and then I might actually do it.”

“I can understand that, all right. You can’t deny that Jolly certainly has a talent for making you want to hit her in the eye. Among other talents.”

“Yes,” I said. “Among others.”

On the way to Nick’s Steak House, I thought about Irene. Irene was Nick’s daughter. She was tall for a woman, and she had a big, exciting body. I said as much to Harvey.

“Yes,” he said. “What a pity she’s married to that bricklayer.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that. Bricklayers are generally quite prosperous. On the whole, I’d say, somewhat more prosperous than mathematics teachers. Maybe you ought to take up laying bricks.”

“Well, I don’t know that I’d want to lay bricks, even for the additional income, but I sure wouldn’t mind Irene.”

“In this case, the two operations seem to be associated.”

“I concede that, but I find the thought repulsive. Don’t you find it repulsive?”

“Not particularly.”

“That’s only because you’ve got Jolly on your mind.”

“Forget it.”

“All right. I’ll forget Jolly and think about Irene, and you forget Irene and think about Jolly. Is it agreed?”

“Agreed.”

“You’ll have to confess, however, that I have all the better of it. Thinking of Jolly quite obviously makes you miserable because she’s all messed up with your nobler sentiments, as well as your baser ones, while Irene is with me strictly glandular and entails no pain. I feel sorry for you, old boy. I really do.”

“Oh, go to hell,” I said.

We walked on under the trees and cicadas in the stirring air and came pretty soon to Nick’s. We went inside and sat down at a table covered with a red-checked cloth, and Nick was behind the counter, and so was Irene. Nick’s friendly, fat, Greek face split and opened and exposed shining teeth, and he raised a hand in greeting.

“Hello, professors,” he said.

He always called us professor. We weren’t actually, not full ones, but he called us that, anyhow. To him it was a title of dignity and worth, which is something it usually isn’t to most people, and in response to this welcome esteem we were convinced in our minds that he was certainly the greatest Greek since Homer, and probably before. We said hello and sat at the table, and Irene came from behind the counter and across to us. She was truly beautiful in a large and lush fashion, and she had this nice movement Harvey had mentioned, but none of it meant anything to me. I was capable of being quite objective about it.

“Hello, Irene,” Harvey said. “You are very beautiful, and I love you.”

“Oh, you,” she said.

“No, really. You are truly beautiful.”

“I am pleased that you think so.”

“Only now I was telling Felix what a pity it is that you’re married to that bricklayer.”

“George? George is nice. A very fine husband.”

“Honestly? I’m sorry to hear it. Have you ever considered being unfaithful to him?”

“Only when I see you. You are the only temptation.”

“Now you are kidding me.”

“So now we are kidding each other.”

“You should take me seriously.”

“But I do. I take you very seriously. I take it seriously that you want to order something to eat, and for that reason I am here to serve you.”

“Well, if you ever decide to be unfaithful, you let me know, will you?”

“Yes, yes. At once.”

She was obviously quite pleased by all this, and maybe old ugly Harvey was just a little bit of a temptation to her, at that, but the truth was, he was a great respector of marriage and wouldn’t have had her at any price under the circumstances. Not, of course, that he didn’t want her, and probably if the circumstances had been different, he could have worked it out with her and his conscience.

“In that case,” he said, “I’ll have the Salisbury steak, provided it’s ground beef and not hamburger.”

“The best ground beef,” she said.

“I’ll have that too,” I said.

“And two bottles of beer,” Harvey said.

She went away with her nice, large movement and came back with the beer and two glasses. Harvey picked up a bottle in his right hand and a glass in his left hand and poured from the bottle into the glass, holding the glass at an angle so that the beer ran down the side and did not build up too big a head. I poured my own beer and began drinking it, and we sat there drinking the beer and not saying anything more, and after quite a while Irene brought the Salisbury steaks. They were really superior beef and well prepared, and besides the steaks there were golden french-fried onion rings and a tossed salad, but I was not hungry and had difficulty in eating.