J. Donleavy - Schultz

On the billiard room walls, portraits of fierce looking gentlemen in military uniform. Schultz with dinner jacket off and chalking his cue tip like a master, proceeded to devastate and awe Binky and his Lordship with a magnificent display of bank, carom and full massé shots.

“By god Schultz wherever did you learn to be so marvellous at billiards.”

“In my local neighborhood pool hall. And outside of show business it’s the first fucking thing I’m able to teach you guys a lesson in.”

“Binky and I are suitably impressed. And now Schultz if you’ll just press the button behind your elbow, perhaps you might like a palate cleansing champagne.”

“Yeah sure, why not. This life with you two eccentric guys is beginning to really suit me.”

They repaired to the music room. A long shadowy ornate gallery with white gold embellished organ pipes at one end and a black gleaming concert grand piano and two ancient harps at the other. A wood fire now blazing and crackling where the chimney sweep had his socks scorched. Tall windows looking down from battlements over the moonlit deer park. Batters entering with an ice bucket of champagne. Followed by the young footman whose hand trembled as he proffered his tray to Schultz.

“But now Schultz I think you will admit when you hear Binky’s little recital that he might teach you a lesson or two as an instrumentalist.”

Binky sitting in his smilingly affable manner at the organ and boomingly playing a medley of tunes ending with a rousing trumpeting march. With Schultz jumping to his feet clapping. Binky modestly nodding and finally, crisply and clearly playing Handel’s organ concerto number two in B flat major. As he now stood bowing to Schultz’s rousing cheers.

“Shit Binky that was fucking marvellous.”

“Ah pleased you enjoyed it Schultz and now having had a most commendable evening with much soul stirring mutual admiration, may I your most humble and obedient servant thank you your Royal Grace and beg your permission to withdraw.”

“Of course Binky.”

“As you know one must arise before dawn to stalk your deer in your surrounding moorland hills and one’s eye must be bright and sharp in order that there be venison. Goodnight Schultz.”

Binky departing the music room. His footsteps dying away along the echoing floors of the gallery outside. A wind blowing at the panes of window. The fragrant whiffs of wood smoke as little puffs arose from the chimney piece. The faint hoot of an owl.

“Holy shit your Lordship Binky can do everything and he’s so fucking implacably urbane and nonchalant about it.”

“Ah an Englishman Schultz although liking to be perfect at his pursuits, always prefers to give the impression of the amateur.”

“But Jesus your Lordship, doesn’t Binky have any weaknesses.”

“Yes I think he does, at least one Schultz.”

“Well I’d sure as fuck would like to know what it is.”

“Ballet.”

“You’re kidding. Ballet. A weakness.”

“Yes Schultz, Binky would do anything for the ballet. Anything. Even to suffering a court martial. As he did once being absent without leave from his regiment just as they were about to ship out.”

“What just to watch the ballet.”

“No Schultz, to watch a great ballerina dance. Binky had his Tobias stationed every late afternoon waiting to drive him to London to a performance and then through half the night back to base at six a.m. in the morning. And this one morning he missed his regiment as they shipped out.”

“Holy shit.”

“Binky has wrecked cars. Bought outrageous presents for his favourite dancers, showered entire companies with gifts. He even risked arrest in Russia impersonating an impresario with an enormous contract to present it to this ballerina to travel away with him on the same train to the same town just so that he could be in the same city alone with her. Of course his scheme didn’t succeed. But he did follow her across Europe wherever she danced. A story of infinite sadness. He simply lived to see her. Always the first in the audience to start clapping. The last to stop. Always on his feet shouting bravo even when she had already stood through as many as thirty curtain calls in cities like Prague, Leningrad, Moscow, Warsaw. There was Binky faithfully on his feet cheering. His flowers for her carried on stage for ten minutes at a time. The blossoms stacked around her like a funeral pyre. And later he would station himself at the stage door. Just for a momentary glimpse of her over the heads of the crowd. Then he would finally stand shivering knee deep in snow across the street from her hotel looking up at her window until her light went out.”

“Hey Jesus stop your Lordship. Shit I’m crying.”

“I’m sorry Schultz if I’ve upset you.”

“Jesus that kind of hits me where I feel it. I always thought Binky was just one of those rich pukka public school boys who just liked being near the porno shows in Soho. I have a new respect for the guy.”

“Of course later back in London he did finally impersonate a reporter of a daily newspaper and presented himself to the ballerina who was kind enough to receive him and he spent half an hour of her valuable time mumbling hardly able to speak and staring at her in abject awe until she gracefully relieved him of his misery when he confessed to being only a worshipping fan. And when he was leaving she accidentally touched him on the sleeve. And to this day Binky has never removed the jacket from its special place in his closet.”

“Jesus I had no idea. I guess with guys like you with everything you got already, that the things you end up wanting are beyond the emotions of ordinary men.”

“Ah Schultz I’m afraid that one just does not know what’s in any man’s heart.”

“Fucking greed is in mine, even as much as I love the theatre. But holy shit, your Lordship, you know what I’m thinking. That religion does not teach the only important truth there is, that man saves his soul by money alone and to be rich is right and true and from that derives all beauty and justice.”

“By god Schultz, although you are indeed stretching your imagination tonight.”

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“Your Lordship this has been the most blissful fucking time I have ever had in my entire life.”

Sitting following tea on a rear stone porch above the shimmering moat. Orange backs of goldfish peeking above the water. Tiers of formal gardens stepping down to pasture stretching in a long valley vista of deerpark. The sun faint pink descending the misty heavens. Balmy breeze, buds bursting forth on shrubberies. Great shiny black winged ravens croaking their cries as they slid and tumbled over the treetops.

“Ah Schultz I see your palate continues to appetize over the grapy green gleam in this wine.”

“Shit, I’ll say it does.”

Batters discreetly coughing as he shuffled out to place another bottle of Moselle in the ice bucket. Touching away the drops with his linen napkin as he replenished glasses.

“Batters, next let us have a trockenbeerenauslese for Mr. Schultz. I think this dying afternoon invites discovery of further, better and perhaps sweeter particulars of the riesling vine.”

“Very good my Lord.”

“Holy shit your Lordship you’re going to get me god damn drunk.”

“Ah Schultz, it can’t but do your hysteria a world of good.”

“Jesus, who’s hysterical. I’m floating on a fucking cloud.”

“You’ll be floating on a fucking bed of watercress in the moat Schultz if you lean back any further on your chair there.”

“Holy shit, you’re right.”

That morning Schultz lay abed. The country champagne fresh air flowing in his window. Breakfast brought tiptoe by the young footman across the red silk persian carpet and placed on a bed table over his lap. On the tray in a milk glass vase, a black fragrant rose. As they sat in the music room the previous evening Batters whisperingly taking his preference.