Padgett Powell - Edisto

"Than what?"

"Than this." A big wicker squeak. This was much clearer.

"Well, what pray tell doesn’t worry you now ? Before when ?"

"Before he had his new companion to — escort him."

"Companion. And not the first—"

"Don’t start that tape—"

"I’ll start it—"

"You’re a boor."

A giant scraping and tinkling and gushing, pouring noise came down.

"Here. The ice is gone," Daddy said.

"Thanks."

It was quiet for so long I got scared they might be sneaking down. I could see the stairs where their shoes would show up long before they could see me, but I went over to the stairs just in case. Then they started talking again. I tiptoed back over, missed a few words.

. think either one of us," she said, and a pause like for a lecture notetaker, "has been chaste, has we, Iv?"

"ln my book discretion still beats valor."

"Quite," she said. A scream of wicker. “So what sets us so far apart in this spectrum of morals, my lovely?" (Sounds weird, but that’s what I heard.) "That I don’t with every coroner, convict, drifter, and what’s more entrust a boy to—"

"Who fucking left , Everson?" The volume nearly scalped me. I was weak. I can only think of one noise like that — a gun went off in a pawnshop on King Street and it was like the air itself was black for a moment, and we weren’t even inside the shop. I eased back up into the tube.

". . if there’s a difference. One leaves, one doesn’t. You couldn’t, I could. Don’t make me out. ."

"I know." An easy whine of wicker.

"Same?" Another chinking and wash sound.

"It’s none of your business, but I’ll tell you anyway. He came out here and found Theenie in her gin and she decided he’s her long-lost grandchild by her crazy daughter." Still another punctuation of glass and liquid noise. "And I asked him to stay here. For Simons."

"You don’t know him from—"

"Everson, did I know you? Did you know—"

"That was just for marriage. This, you’ve got, he’s raising —"

"Necessity of invention." Then, quickly; "Okay, look. I liked the kid. At school the gossip mill has done about as hysterical a thing as you want to. God, this is strong. Look, Iv, we’re all coming down a bit, but I’m not addled yet. And the thing on Simons, the book thing.

"The book thing," he said.

"It’s no good without the baseball thing." Then she adds: "That’s why the man’s here, known or not. He’s duty-free, cuts a figure, keeps him straight. That’s all there is."

I’d had enough. All I had to do was figure out how to model my face for going in the house. This was some of the strangest verbiage I ever heard. I don’t know why I thought so at the time. It looks reasonable now.

But I was hypered out, so I walked all the way back up to the Grand. When I was almost an hour late I called them.

"Where are you?"

"I’m up at Jake’s. I thought Daddy could pick me up here."

"It’s your weekend," she said. "When he gets here I’ll tell him."

"Okay. Thanks." Thanks for mendacity, I should have said — mendacity and lies.

Well, I got a cold one. For the first time I needed one, I thought. I rolled it on my forehead. It felt like a new kind of ironing, heavy cold metal to smooth things out.

Jake came up and shook the can and put another one up without asking, like I was a real regular customer. "Drink dis slow. Your momma called, said sit tight."

I sat tight. After that one I didn’t need to iron my head anymore.

I thought of a joke, for some reason, that Margaret Pinckney told during the last party. Bill and Jim interfered with her but she got it out, talking like a harelip. The hero’s a harelip. Selling peaches, he knocks on a 1ady’s door. She answers in "something comfortable — very," Margaret said.

"Yes?"

"Ma’am, want thum peacheth?"

"It would depend."

"Depend on what?" said the harelip.

“Are they firm?”

"Oh yeth, ma’am, they’re firm."

"Do they have a very light fuzz on them?”

"Oh yeth, ma’am, they have a very light futh on them."

"Come in," the lady said, and he did.

“Are they as firm as these?" she asked, showing him her titties. Margaret said boobs.

"I couldn’t thay."

She made him feel them. "Oh yeth, ma’am, they’re ath firm ath theeth."

"Well, is the fuzz on them as light as this fuzz?"

Margaret said: "She revealed herself totally to the harelip door-to-door peach salesman."

"I–I—I couldn’t th-thay that either," he said. "Give me your hand and we’ll find out," she said, and then, jumping, said, "Quick, I hear someone coming! Under the sofa!"

The salesman rolled under the sofa and the lady dressed. It was a false alarm. When the heat blew off she got the salesman out.

"Whew."

"I’ll thay.” They settled down.

Then the lady said: "I’ll buy all your fruit if you’ll tell me what part of my body you think is the sharpest."

"The tharpetht?"

"Yes. And I’ll take it all.”

"Well, ma’am, I believe it’th your eerth."

"My ears?”

"Yeth, ma’am."

"But why my ears?"

"Well, you know when you thaid you thought you heard thomeone coming?"

"Yes."

"Well" — he hesitated—"it wath me."

It wath a houthe rocker that night. Even Bill and Jim were giggling. Why did I remember that, sitting in the Grand working on my second cold one? My first true second beer in my life.

Daddy came in.

"Mist’Iv," people said. "Mist’Iv!" I guess they knew him from their troubles. Daddy took their cases on time, I thought. Or they just knew he was the Duchess’s old man. But anyway, he came in and had Jake’s attention before he got to the bar and handed Jake a bottle in a sack.

"Do you have soda?"

"Got Coke soda," Jake said.

"Water then, Jacob."

Jacob. I had the feeling he’d been there before, or knew him somehow, which was a hard sensation to accept, like believing that sexy things are not your own private province of knowledge, that your parents must know too. Here I thought Jake and the Grand were all mine, and Daddy’s calling Jake Jacob, like they go back years into a formal history together.

"Hi. Sorry if I’m in trouble," I said to cut him off, in case I was. "You know Jake?"

Jake handed up a jigger of whiskey and a jelly glass with tap water in it. Daddy nodded down. Jake nodded up.

"His father." Daddy was about titrated out. His lips were under control except they sort of looked like he’d been to the dentist. His eyes were mullety."This place is just a juke joint now, son. In my day, it was the biggest whorehouse-casino-bootleg operation we knew of. Do you know what a whorehouse is?"

"Wel1, I know what one is . I don’t know what you do , though."

He chased the jigger.

"Me either." He laughed.

We sat there a while.

I had a bunch of questions about the joint before, under Jake’s daddy, but they seemed like too much effort. I could just put it together myself, with a hint or two.

"Daddy, was it what they call a class operation?"

"What?"

"Jake’s joint in the good old days."

"Class operation is right!" He got excited. "That’s exactly what it was. Everything was clear. They had the fun and we had the money. Buyers, sellers."

"Refined vice?" I said.

"What?"

"Like Chicago and things. Was it refined vice with a code of manners—"

“Son, do you believe in God?"

"What?"

"Do you believe in God?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"Well, okay. I guess it was refined vice."

I motioned to Jake and got my first true third cold one in my life. Daddy had said something I couldn’t figure out. Today I sort of know. And I sort of don’t.