Jane Bowles - My Sister's Hand in Mine - The Collected Works of Jane Bowles

“Take all these people here,” said Mrs. Quill. “There aren’t many of them, but you’d think they’d all get together instead of staying in twos and threes. As long as they’re all living here in this gorgeous hotel, you’d think they’d have on their ball dresses and be having a wonderful time every minute, instead of looking out over the terrace or reading. You’d think they’d always be dressed up to the hilt and flirting together instead of wearing those plain clothes.”

“They got on sport clothes,” said Toby. “They don’t want to be bothered dressin’. They probably come here for a rest. They’re probably business people. Maybe some of them belong to society. They got to rest too. They got so many places they got to show up at when they’re home.”

“Well, I wouldn’t pay out all that money just to rest. I’d stay in my own house.”

“It don’t make no difference. They got plenty.”

“That’s true enough. Isn’t it sad?”

“I don’t see nothin’ sad about it. What looks sad to me,” said Toby, leaning way over and crushing his cigar out in the ash-tray, “what looks sad to me is that you’ve got that bar and hotel set-up and you ain’t makin’ enough money on it.”

“Yes, isn’t it terrible?”

“I like you and I don’t like to see you not gettin’ what you could.” He took hold of her hand with a certain amount of gentleness. “Now, I know what to do with your place. Like I told you before. Do you remember what I told you before?”

“Well, you’ve told me so many things.”

“I’ll tell you again. I’ve been working with restaurants and bars and hotels all my life and makin’ them go. I said makin’ them go. If I had the dough right now, if it wasn’t that I’m short because I had to help my brother and his family out of a jam, I’d take my own dough before you could say Jack Robinson and sink it into your joint and fix it up. I know that I’d get it right back anyway, so it wouldn’t be no act of charity.”

“Certainly it wouldn’t,” said Mrs. Quill. Her head was swaying gently from side to side. She looked at Toby with luminous eyes.

“Well, I got to go easy now until next October, when I got a big contract comin’. A contract with a chain. I could use a little money now, but that ain’t the point.”

“Don’t bother to explain, Toby,” said Mrs. Quill.

“What do you mean, don’t bother to explain? Ain’t you interested in what I’ve got to tell you?”

“Toby, I’m interested in every word you have to say. But you must not worry about the drinks. Your friend Flora Quill tells you that you needn’t worry. We’re out to enjoy ourselves and Heaven knows we’re going to, aren’t we, Toby?”

“Yeah, but just let me explain this to you. I think the reason you ain’t done nothin’ about the place is because you didn’t know where to begin, maybe. Understand? You don’t know the ropes. Now, I know all about gettin’ orchestras and carpenters and waiters, cheap. I know how to do all that. You got a name, and lots of people like to come there even now because they can go right from the bar upstairs. Pacifica is a big item because she knows every bloke in town and they like her and they trust her. The trouble is, you ain’t got no atmosphere, no bright lights, no dancin’. It ain’t pretty or big enough. People go to the other places and then they come to your place late. Just before they go to bed. If I was you, I’d turn over in my grave. It’s the other guys that are gettin’ the meat. You only get a little bit. What’s left near the bone, see?”

“The meat nearest the bone is the sweetest,” said Mrs. Quill.

“Hey, is there any use my talkin’ to you or are you gonna be silly? I’m serious. Now, you got some money in the bank. You got money in the bank, ain’t you?”

“Yes, I’ve got money in the bank,” said Mrs. Quill.

“O.K. Well, you let me help you fix up the joint. I’ll take everything off your hands. All you got to do is lie back and enjoy the haul.”

“Nonsense,” said Mrs. Quill.

“Now come on,” said Toby, beginning to get angry. “I’m not askin’ you for nothin’ except maybe a little percentage in the place and a little cash to pay expenses for a while. I can do it all for you cheap and quick and I can manage the joint for you so that it won’t cost you much more than it’s costin’ you now.”

“But I think that’s wonderful, Toby. I think it’s so wonderful.”

“You don’t have to tell me it’s wonderful. I know it’s wonderful. It ain’t wonderful, it’s swell. It’s marvelous. We ain’t got no time to lose. Have another drink.”

“Yes, yes.”

“I’m spendin’ my last cent on you,” he said recklessly.

Mrs. Quill was drunk by now and she just nodded her head.

“It’s worth it.” He sat back in his chair and studied the horizon. He was very busy calculating in his head. “What percentage in the place do you think I ought to get? Don’t forget I’m gonna manage the whole thing for you for a year.”

“Oh, dear,” said Mrs. Quill, “I’m sure I haven’t got any idea.” She smiled at him blissfully.

“O.K. How much advance will you give me just so I can stay on here until I get the place goin’?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, we’ll figure it this way,” said Toby cautiously. He was not sure yet that he had taken the right move. “We’ll figure it this way. I don’t want you to do more than you can. I want to go in this deal with you. You tell me how much money you got in the bank. Then I’ll figure out how much fixin’ the place up will cost you and then how much I think is a minimum for me. If you ain’t got much I’m not gonna let you go busted. You be honest with me and I’ll be honest with you.”

“Toby,” said Mrs. Quill seriously, “don’t you think I’m an honest woman?”

“What the hell,” said Toby, “do you think I’d put a proposition like that to you if I didn’t think you were?”

“No, I guess you wouldn’t,” said Mrs. Quill sadly.

“How much you got?” asked Toby, looking at her intently.

“What?” asked Mrs. Quill.

“How much money you got in the bank?”

“I’ll show you, Toby. I’ll show you right away.” She started to fumble in her big black leather pocketbook.

Toby had his jaw locked and his eyes averted from the face of Mrs. Quill.

“Messy — messy — messy,” Mrs. Quill was saying. “I have everything in this pocketbook but the kitchen stove.”

There was a very still look in Toby’s eyes as he stared first at the water and then at the palm trees. He considered that he had already won, and he was beginning to wonder whether or not it was really a good thing.

“Dear me,” said Mrs. Quill, “I live just like a gypsy. Twenty-two fifty in the bank and I don’t even care.”

Toby snatched the book from her hands. When he saw that the balance was marked twenty-two dollars and fifty cents, he rose to his feet and, clutching his napkin in one hand and his hat in the other, he walked off the terrace.

After Toby had left the table so abruptly, Mrs. Quill felt deeply ashamed of herself.

“He’s just so disgusted,” she decided, “that he can’t even look me in the face without feeling like throwing up. It’s because he thinks I’m balmy to go around gay as a lark with only twenty-two fifty in the bank. Well, well, I expect I’d better start worrying a little more. When he comes back I’ll tell him I’ll turn over a new leaf.”

Everyone had left the terrace by now with the exception of the waiter who had served Mrs. Quill. He stood with his hands behind his back and stared straight ahead of him.

“Sit down for a bit and talk to me,” said Mrs. Quill to him. “I’m lonesome on this dark old terrace. It’s really a beautiful terrace. You might tell me something about yourself. How much money have you got in the bank? I know you think I’m fresh to ask you, but I’d really like to know.”