Schultz

  “Jesus Mr. Schultz someone somewhere must be a lucky woman. Still waters flow deep. O God it feels so good. Still way up in me. Still so hard in there. You’re a surprise I’m never going to get over.”

  “Should I give your husband his turn maybe.”

  “Don’t move, don’t get off. Herbie can wait. Can’t you Herbie.”

  “I can wait. Like what am I. Just the husband.”

  On the wide white expanse of sheet, Schultz slowly grinding away once more. Sylvia’s eyes closing. Purring out little long groans. Her lips curled back from her teeth. Jesus I look up and the Dorchester clock has gone backwards. Somewhere in the back of my mind hidden by all my troubles, I remember the first second I saw her, what a glint she had in her eye. Juicy girl. A genius. Has my cock in there working like it was part of her. Plus she’s backed up by one of the best little arses I’ve ever known. Which alone is worth the price of admission. All women I fuck from now on will be measured against her. Imagine such bliss as this. Without spending a penny of my own personal money. Without jam flung all over the walls. Or busted antiques and floods. Without a geriatric old hen like Al trying to corral me up the fucking aisle. Holy Jesus. Even that. Wow. Her finger. Pressing down on my ass. And Jesus, going right in. Right at the right time. Shows you looks don’t matter a damn. Sylvia and Herbie’s faces could win contests for designs for the back of a bus. And even I wasn’t always as handsome as I am now. My buck teeth growing up were knocking over all the girls on the block. Till Uncle Werb paid to have them fixed. My own father saying leave them. So what if they stick out, they make him noticed, it could help his personality. Thanks a bunch dad. Holy Jesus is it two fingers she’s sticking in. Or three knuckles. Jesus that star on a chain flipping all over her chest. Like she could be she’s stamped approved kosher by my whole family. Aunt Essie, Uncle Werb. Sigmund why don’t you find a nice girl and settle down in the diamond business. Because Uncle Werb, this is only my first arse thrilling fuck I’ve got out of this production. But holy jeeze at first with one finger or two it was wonderful but now it’s all her fingers or her whole fist going up my ass. What’s this kneeling. Now right over me. With hairy arms. And a chronometer watch on the wrist.

  “Hey for Christ’s sake what’s going on.”

  “Let him, Mr. Schultz, let him.”

  “Let him. Like hell I will.”

  Schultz grabbed from in front by Sylvia. Herbie crashing down from behind. Schultz struggling between the compressed bodies.

  “Stop stop.”

  “Let him Mr. Schultz, it only hurts in the beginning. No problem.”

  “No problem like hell, you pair of fucking rapists. Get your prick out of my ass.”

  It’s

  Some problem

  Hurting me

  In

  The end

  19

  Twelve minutes to four by the clock above the hotel revolving doors. As Schultz with his grey battered top hat in hand came out of the elevator looking twice behind over his shoulder. Walking between the deep green sofas and settees full of people. And spotting Pricilla sitting by a black marble pillar in a mauve taffeta dress, mauve high heeled shoes and a blue spotted green scarf tied around her waist. Just like she’s come fresh from selecting a dozen creations at a mannequin parade at Fortnum’s who are going to send me the bill.

  “Hi ya baby. Sorry I’m a little late.”

  “Late. You’re more than late. How dare you come to meet me dressed like that. Where have you been.”

  “Look honey I’ve really had a long day. And I’m glad you’re here already. Let me go see my car’s alright. I’ll be a second.”

  “Look at you, is that supposed to be a morning suit. Your coat is torn in two.”

  “I know it’s torn in two for christ’s sake.”

  “Your shirt is open and your tie looks like someone was trying to hang you.”

  “Honey they were, they were.”

  “Who were.”

  “Nobody was, it’s a figure of speech.”

  “I’ve been waiting eighteen minutes with men ogling me. And this is how you show up. Everyone staring at you. And laughing.”

  “O christ, hey Jesus, let me sit down. And get the fuck out of sight, then.”

  Three swarthy gentlemen encouched nearby licking their lips. Staring at Pricilla, then at Schultz and then at each other. China tea with lemon served by a tail coated solicitous waiter as Schultz put his own tail coated back snugly out of sight into the cushions. Pricilla selecting a watercress and cucumber sandwich followed by one of smoked salmon and then two pastries surmounted with whipped cream and stuffed with jams.

  “O.K. honey. Now how do we solve this.”

  “Solve, what do you mean solve.”

  “I mean you know, solve.”

  “I’m not a crossword puzzle.”

  “O Jesus, look, come on, all I’m looking for is a sensible solution.”

  “That’s your problem.”

  “Well, would you like to, say go to stay in Monte Carlo or something. I mean take three weeks or a month. I can get in touch with medical treatment here in London. Then you could convalesce, like I say, in Monte Carlo. Even bring your brother. Watch the yachts come and go in the harbour.”

  “What are you suggesting.”

  “Nothing. I’m just saying. Everything could be taken care of. At my expense. I’ll pay.”

  “You’ll pay.”

  “Sure I’ll pay, no problem.”

  “What are you going to pay for.”

  “Come on honey, you know what I’m talking about for christ’s sake.”

  “I do not know what you’re talking about.”

  “Come on, don’t make me say it, I got too much on my mind already.”

  “Well you’re going to get more on your mind. More than you ever dreamed was possible.”

  “Hey Jesus, it’s a simple operation.”

  “What is.”

  “To terminate. To terminate a pregnancy.”

  “So that’s it. You want me to kill my baby.” “Jesus, keep your voice down for christ’s sake. People can hear.”

  “Kill my baby. Is that what you’re telling me to do.”

  “I’m not telling you to do anything. I’m merely mentioning. Holy cow. Out of the frying pan and right smack into fucking burning embers.”

  “What do you mean by that.”

  “Nothing honey. It’s just that I recently escaped out of a horrendously difficult business conference and my mind’s not calmed down yet enough to think straight.”

  “Your mind had better start thinking straight in a quick damn hurry I’m telling you.”

  “Jesus and I’m telling you not so loud will you, they know me in this place.”

  “That’s tough.”

  “What the fuck do you want out of me. Jesus I’m bulging out at the temples with troubles.”

  “My stomach is bulging.”

  “Holy shit don’t start with the tears now too on top of everything. I’m only just emerging from horrorsville. A simple operation that’s all. It would clear everything up. O Jesus come on honey, have mercy will you. Have mercy.”

  The tea cup, spoon and saucer in Pricilla’s hand fell splashing into her lap as her head fell backwards and her mouth opened with a groan. The three swarthy gentlemen straightening up in their seats as Schultz leaned forward trying to straighten up this fainted lady.

  “Honey, please, please, don’t do this.”

  Nearby conversation stilled. Folk turning to look. The three swarthy gentlemen to their feet. Their gold adorned wrists and diamond ringed fingers reaching to assist this lady in distress.

  “No help needed. Come on, don’t make a big thing of this. Don’t touch her.”

  “As gentlemen we must be of assistance to the lady. We think sir that you have insulted her.”

  “Mind your own god damn business will you. Before you get your jaws broken.”

  Schultz standing, two fists knotted at his side
s. The solicitous expert waiter propping Pricilla’s head up and putting a glass of water to her lips. Her eyes opening wide.

  “Where am I. Where am I.”

  “At the Dorchester, Madam.”

  “Yeah, you’re right here, honey. You’re right here.”

  Schultz made his way leading a weeping Pricilla by the elbow across a blazingly colorful carpet. Stopping while a helpful passing concierge picked up his dropped battered top hat from the black and white tiles of the lobby floor. To hand it back to Schultz entering the revolving door. The doorman waving for Schultz’s car parked up on the curb alongside the triangular little garden and lawns with their goldfish pools. Schultz stepping forward on the hotel’s top step, and suddenly yanked back in his tracks. Half his tail coat pulled off down his arm. The other end caught jammed behind in the revolving door. A fur encased fat American lady stuck screaming and fist pounding the other side of the glass.

  “Let me out, let me out.”

  “What next, christ almighty, what next. There’s some kind of world fucking conspiracy after me. Holy shit, stop lady stop trying to move the doors, will you. You’re dragging me back in.”

  “I want out. I want out.”

  A detachment of porters rushing to the rescue. The revolving doors reversed and Schultz’s coattail released. A chair was brought to the furry fat American lady for her arse and a glass of water for her nerves. Schultz draping half of his collar attached tail coat over his shirt sleeved arm. The doorman holding open the car door. And Schultz as he bent his head to enter looked up. Pricilla her long curvaceous legs crossed, safely ensconced. A smile now instead of tears on her face.

  “That’s what makes you really happy isn’t it honey, anything that makes me look ridiculous.”

  The limousine, its tyres whirring around Speakers Corner. Black man up on a ladder slapping his fist on a sign haranging down at a little crowd. Always somebody somewhere complaining.

  “Why wasn’t I invited to the wedding.”

  “Because honey, it’s just me who is the guy’s friend. And honey for the third time. I’m telling you we can’t go to Arabesque Street.”

  “Why.”

  “Because we can’t that’s why.”

  “Because you have some floozie installed, is that why.”

  “No honey, because from the times you’ve been there, the fights, the ambulances, and the damage you done, I’m being sued already for eviction by the landlords trying to make a case out of moral turpitude.”

  “I’m not going to damage anything.”

  “Holy mackerel. I got a dozen phone calls to make upon which my life depends. Don’t be unreasonable. For just tonight. Let me take you home.”

  The blocks of flats, the tall terraces of once upon a time town houses and cream walled hotels facing the park along Bayswater Road. A pub with outdoor tables. A church so peaceful with its tall steeple sitting in a little square. Nothing like a Protestant house of worship in which to take a few minutes’ private sanctuary. I ought to go disappear somewhere in this part of town. Just have a little room. A pot to cook in, one to piss in and a hole maybe in a brass monkey to fuck in.

  “My mother’s so right about you. That you’re like a child thinking only of itself. And what you’ve done to me. The cruelty.”

  “Done, what for christ’s sake. Cruelty. What are you talking about.”

  “Yes. Cruelty. You’re going to drag my name through the Courts.”

  “Holy Jesus honey, don’t you get it. If you do something like suing me I’m the defendant. I’m the one with the name dragged through the Courts.”

  “And you’ll deserve it.”

  “Honey goodbye. Here’s your house.”

  “I love you. Don’t you understand that. I love you.”

  “You call it love to tear up every damn thing precious to me. Like photographs, valuable invitations.”

  “Yes I do. Because I love you.”

  “Holy shit. O.K. you love me. O.K. fucking show it to me just once. Just once, that’s all. By being some kind of help to me and stop the tears again. I’ll phone you. Tonight. O god please, stop the sobbing. I mean shit people are stopping to look at us. Would it make you happy honey if I went home and shot out my brains.”

  “No.”

  “What would make you happy.”

  “To get married.”

  “Goodbye. I’ll call you.”

  Shadows falling, tints of pink on the bottoms of clouds. The limousine saluted as it turned left down the private tree lined road of great embassy houses standing behind their hedges and fences. Curtains drawn on confidential windows. That’s what I need. Diplomatic immunity. Jesus you give a little bit of yourself to a woman and they keep wanting more till they got all of you and then they think you are theirs to kick in the fucking balls. If their foot hasn’t something better to do.

  The black Daimler limo pulling up in Arabesque Street. Schultz pressing the switch to lower the glass division between passenger and chauffeur and reaching for his wallet. Digging in the inside pocket of his morning coat draped over his lap. Now shoving his hands into his trouser pockets. And jumping up from the seat and looking around behind him on the upholstery.

  “Is something wrong sir.”

  “Jesus yeah. I’ve lost my wallet. I was going to give you a tip.”

  “Another time sir, no problem.”

  “Jesus don’t say those words no problem. All they mean today is some problem.”

  “I quite understand sir. I can see you’ve had a full day. If I come across the wallet sir, I’ll see they are right on to you with it.”

  “Thanks. Thanks.”

  Gathering his tatters together Schultz alighting. The Ambassador’s car parked across the street. Jesus I have a good mind to go over there, ring the bell and beg to become a citizen of Zumzimzamgazi.

  Schultz crossing the pavement. And looking up to see a sky blue coated comely figure turning around from knocking on his door. Schultz rushing up the steps. Hurriedly taking a key out of his still intact trouser pocket.

  “Jesus.”

  “Mr. Schultz.”

  “Roxana. What are you doing here.”

  “I am in London.”

  “I can see that.”

  “For his Lordship’s wedding. And the staff party. I took the liberty of thinking what harm would there be to call on you as you suggested.”

  “O boy.”

  “I hope I am not a problem arriving at an inconvenient time. But of course I will go. I did ring but the phone just kept clicking off. I’ll come and see you another time.”

  “No don’t go. Stay. Come on, come in.”

  “Thank you. But I hope you’re not just being polite. I just have been walking. I knocked earlier but no answer.”

  “Well as you can see, I’m a little messed up. Jesus come in. So I can close the door.”

  “I really think perhaps I am disturbing you.”

  “No problem. I mean, no difficulty, really come in.”

  Roxana shyly entering, standing aside as Schultz quietly closed and bolted the door. The telephone ringing. The door at the end of the hall opening. A honey blond head peeking out.

  “Hey Roxana just go sit in there a second. And be right with you. Thanks. Thanks a lot. I’ll just close the door.”

  Schultz taking up the talking instrument and with his hand over the speaker turning to Greta.

  “Greta, hey just go back down the kitchen will you, be right with you. I mean it. I’ll be just a second.”

  The sullen face of Greta disappearing. Schultz listening to her steps down the stairs and to the kitchen door shaking the house as it was slammed closed and tinkled the crystal chandelier above his head. Jesus if I could only charm this instrument to bring me some good news and tidings. It’s got to be, it’s just got to be once that Hollywood is ringing one of these days.

  “Hello.”

  “Sigmund.”

  “Not you Al.”

  “What do you mean not
me. I’ll hang up if that’s what you got to say.”

  “Sorry Al, but I’ve just been through a day to remember.”

  “Well I got somethisg else will make you remember today.”

  “Jesus don’t tell me Al. I think I’m getting ulcers or something.”

  “How did the meeting go.”

  “It went O.K. It had its low moments too.”

  “What answer is that.”

  “You know Al, I mean it was fine.”

  “Let me talk to her.”

  “I took her home, Al she was tired.”

  “You took her home.”

  “Yeah Al, what’s so strange about that.”

  “She could rest in your place with someone concerned to look after her. The beginning of pregnancy is tiring.”

  “I’m glad you told me that Al.”

  “I can tell by the tone of your voice you don’t mean one damn word you’re saying.”

  “Come on Al, Jesus come on. It’s a mirade after today I even have a tone of voice.”

  “Well you listen to my voice a second. I got you sixty thousand plus overcall.”

  “Come on Al, Jesus come on. It’s a miracle after sixty thousand like that in twenty four hours.”

  “You want it or not.”

  “Jesus Al, of course I want it.”

  “So don’t ask me how. Just agree I got it.”

  “Hey Jesus Al you’re now talking about a life and death matter, I don’t need kidding.”

  “It’s no kidding. And tomorrow by two o’clock I guarantee Magillacurdy, maybe a little bit more expensive than I promised, but on a straight salary. Now. You tell me something. When is the wedding day.”

  “That’s fucking blackmail Al, that’s fucking blackmail.”

  “I’m going to ask you once more, nice and quiet and calm. When is the wedding day.”

  “Don’t do this to me Al don’t do it. What are you. A marriage broker or something bringing people together by torture.”

  “I’m a humanitarian who believes in brotherly love. And so for the third and for the very last time, when is the wedding day.”