J. Donleavy - Schultz

Schultz heading south towards the river. Taxis and the odd limousine ferrying away the last of the theatre traffic. What a relief to be alone by myself. Without having to want to scream to everybody, hey for crying out loud will you just shut your ass for two seconds. Click of my heels on the cement. Telling me with each step through the fresh breezy air. That shit, this town could be mine. Mine. To wake up to in the morning. Having breathed in this London night. An intoxication nothing like it anywhere. Clapping still ringing in my ears. Even my own bravos I was shouting. I can’t hardly fucking well wait. All we need is fourteen rave reviews. The critics, Jesus they can’t just be that dumb to pan us.

Schultz cutting through the narrow familiar streets of Covent Garden. The soft sweet smell of vegetables and fruit. Trucks and lorries halted on the shiny cobblestone. Porters drinking tea and chomping on sandwiches at the kiosk in front of the great pillars holding up the church. In there they have plaques on the wall commemorating theatrical immortals. And holy shit all I can suddenly think of is those showbizz friends who are never heard of again. Vanished. Replaced by a whole new set of smart alec shits scurrying on the scene. Jesus even a poor son of a bitch director who was a theatrical household name. Saw him one freezing New York night shambling along Eighth Avenue. Shabby, stooped and old. While I was a few steps away leaving a Broadway show, glad handing under the marquee lights. And there he was, so cold, so lonely and abandoned. Like a leper you couldn’t go and touch. Even ghosts staying to the other side of the street, flapping their big aprons of death in the dust and grime all whorled up by a bitter icy wind. Jesus I swear I couldn’t speak. Couldn’t get myself to go to him. He was already so dead. That I just wanted to get the fuck out of there quick in a hurry. Even now it makes me walk faster by these bags of onions and sprouts. Down a dark Southampton Street. Into the gloomy nearly empty Strand.

Schultz turning right. The silvered front and green shining lights of the Savoy entrance. Stepping through the glass doors. Everything is prepared for privilege. Every little kid who’s growing up in America at least knows he can be President one day. In this fucking country you don’t get to be Prime Minister unless your father was.

Schultz halfway across the restaurant floor. As Al comes rushing forward. And a group of folk suddenly standing at their tables. Clapping. Schultz turning to look back over his shoulder. Faces grinning at him from other tables. Schultz stopping alarmed in his tracks. Jesus they’re clapping at me.

“Hey what are you Sigmund, the reluctant hero. Come on. Meet everybody.”

“Al what’s all the fuss.”

“Sigmund. We’ve all been waiting for you. Where’s your beautiful wife.”

“I don’t know I thought she was with you.”

“No she went to find you. Well anyway Sigmund. This is an important night. That we all want as investors to fondly remember.”

“Al, unless they make a profit, people forget historically touching moments. And there’s no proof yet of a profit.”

“Mr. Cynic once more.”

“All this is ever going to be to me, Al, is a nostalgic explosion down memory lane. Which I hope has left my balls still between my legs.”

“O.K. well if it’s not too much trouble then, drag your testicles over and come and sit down.”

“Jesus Al, it’s hard enough to get myself to come here in the first place, I don’t want to meet these fucking people. You got to keep investors at a distance.”

“Come on, don’t embarrass me. Have nice manners.”

“Al, they’re getting such a good deal I don’t need to give no nice manners as well on top.”

“Sigmund out of respect for me then, show courtesy at least. You’re going to meet my lovely wonderful companion, who with god willing is going to be the next Mrs. Al Duke.”

“Al at your age don’t be so crazy. Don’t do to yourself what you made me get done to me. Believe it or not in spite of the things I can’t forgive you for, I also like you.”

“Sigmund I’m going to be honest with you. You’re sometimes just such an enigma I can’t believe I know you personally.”

“Well I’m by nature a private introspective type of guy.”

“Champagne, caviar, filet mignon, Clos de Tart. For christ’s sake. What could be more introspective than that. Come meet the folks.”

Schultz shepherded by Al to one table after another. Nodding his black curly head to the grins. Shaking hands and smiling as Al made his quips.

“Here’s the guy, ladies and gents, who wears the laurel wreath tonight.”

Al crossing to his own table stopping to wait as his girl friend returning from the powder room approached. This darkly tailored tranquil lady, a strand of pearls at her pale throat.

“Sigmund let me introduce you now to the most wonderful loveliest creature in London. Louella this is the one and only Sigmund Franz Schultz. And Sigmund this is Louella the greatest girl you’re ever going to meet in your life.”

Schultz stopping in his tracks. Looking at this friendly forthright face. Long brown hair parted in the middle gleaming amber in the light. The soft kindly eyes.

“Hi Louella how do you do.”

“Hello.”

“But don’t I know you from somewhere.”

A white pallor bleaching Al’s face. As he looks from Schultz back to his girl friend now wreathed in a smile of recognition.”

“Yes you do Mr. Schultz.”

Al slumping at the knees. His trouser lengthening over and covering the diamond studded gold buckles of his evening slippers.

“Hey what it this. You two know each other.”

“Hey I just thought I did, Al. I’m sure it’s a mistake.”

Louella shyly smiling at Schultz. As she squeezed her fingers against a black beaded handbag in her hand and touched the silver initials above its clasp.

“Don’t you remember Mr. Schultz.”

Al’s jaw dropping a further forty miles on his alabaster face. His eyes bowls of horror as he turned to stare at Schultz wracking his brain.

“Yeah I do I guess. It’s just somewhere on the tip of my head. Hey are you alright Al. Jesus you’ve gone completely white. Let me give you some water.”

“Never mind giving. Let me ask. Point blank if you don’t mind. Do you know each other or not. I want an immediate explanation.”

“Al christ you need medical attention with such a color change on your face.”

“I don’t need nothing but an explanation in black and white and I want it right this second.”

Louella putting her hand up to her cheek. Her lower teeth pressing out biting her upper lip. And a tiny catch in her breath.

“I met Mr. Schultz on the floor.”

“You met this philanderer where. On the floor.”

“Yes. He fell down the stairs.”

“Where were you and he so that he fell down the stairs.”

“Al, my darling, please, it was only in an office building.”

“Sure Al. Relax. I just remembered. This sweet girl and I met late one night in a hotel hallway when I helped her get her key in her door. And I was so overcome by her charm I then fell down the stairs.”

“I don’t want to hear any more, you hear me.”

“Hey Al, it’s a joke. I’m joking. All it was. We met for a split second when this really sweet girl picked me up when I fell down the stairs of an office building. She dropped her whole file of papers to assist me. I even have her telephone number.”

“You what.”

“Relax again Al. I got her number so I could sue and have a witness. Al you really are jumpy.”

Al placing Schultz to sit between two investors’ wives. As he himself sat readjusting his bowtie and licking his lips between taking in big lungfuls of air. Just as a waiter leaned over him and said he was urgently wanted on the phone. Al popping a pill into his mouth, slowly making his way past his guests and out into the hall. Schultz reaching to ferry a grapy delicious champagne to his lips as one of the investors’ wives pressed her big tit into his elbow. And then leaned close to whisper breathingly upon his neck.