Schultz

  “Well of course quite, we must all watch out. But for a moment there Schultz, you really had me worried. Because my god I haven’t yet told you the worst.”

  “The worst.”

  “Precisely. The lady was also suffering from another vicious chronic disease as well. In the form of a mouth fungus.”

  “O hey Jesus, come on, stop.”

  “And Schultz. And you’ll never believe this. She was also thought to possibly have mumps.”

  “Now I don’t believe you. Fungus and mumps for fucks sake. Come on, you’re having me on. Next you’ll be telling me that the mouth fungus can make you sterile.”

  “O no it doesn’t. That only happens with the Oriental Venereal Plague Schultz. But of course even the mildest form of this plague could make you impotent if it attacks the testicles. But as you know mumps may also lead to inflammation of the balls.”

  “You’re trying to tear my whole god damn life down.”

  “Not at all Schultz. Simply warning you. The mouth fungus only causes loosening and loss of the teeth.”

  “Only. Jesus.”

  “Especially this particular variety known as the Rotterdam Rot. But then I very much regret to say that the fungus will be the least of your worries if this chronic vesicular gangrene chancre in its secondary stage ravages your entrails.”

  “Gangrene. I got to get to the fumigators fast.”

  “Of course Schultz the wretched affliction was brought in by sailors to that busiest of European ports. But think of the things you could have caught Schultz. Leprosy. Island isolation and that type of thing.”

  “Jesus I got to sit down again.”

  “Binky, some more brandy for our fellow director. And you know Schultz it makes one realise what a marvellous and dedicated medical service we have here. Chaps who have through tireless work traced the origins of these dread diseases.”

  “Holy shit, I don’t need brandy I need a drink of fucking water.”

  “Binky would you mind awfully getting our cherished and esteemed fellow director a glass of water. We shouldn’t of course like our chef or secretaries especially Rebecca, to get wind of these matters. Also I’m afraid Schultz is so overwrought he may not be entirely able to see straight and could easily fall down the lift shaft rushing into the wrong aperture.”

  “But of course your Amazing Grace. I’ll fetch water. But dear me does this mean our dear fellow director Schultz here may end up having to wear a Lazarus rattle to warn of his approach. And someone behind him to sweep up his teeth.”’

  “Don’t worry the two of you, I may be sitting here looking collapsed god damn it, but I can still see straight and I’m not going to need any rattle either. Or someone picking up my teeth.”

  Binky at the office door. Pausing to twiddle and tap his fingers as he elevated himself up and down on his toes and released wind in a series of small elegant pops.

  “Please don’t mind my rear portal’s post luncheon fanfare. Asparagus, scampi and Chablis invariably pop out of me like this. I am just having a look see in the hall to make sure none of our staff are listening to this unfortunate discussion we are having. Ah all’s clear. And now perhaps Schultz, in view of the grave risk to your future health, you’d like us to take over your production for you.”

  In the sudden silence the pigeons cooing out on the rooftop. And his Lordship hardly ever the type to lose his composure unwillingly, suddenly standing, turning his back and going to the window to rearrange and straighten his face wracked by his choked up guffaws. His fingers pressing his stomach to stop the muscles from ripping asunder. And looking out across to the other office buildings to contain himself. As Schultz, leaping to his feet, sunglasses suddenly off. His elbows out from his sides as he stood crouched, one eye puffed and black, right fist clenched and disbelieving horror written all over his face.

  “Why you dirty rats.”

  Binky slowly rising on his toes as if to reach his ears further in the direction of some rare bird song.

  “I beg your pardon, Schultz.”

  “You heard me. You dirty rats. Now I know what you’re up to. When you see a guy is down. That’s what you do. You move right in. Like vultures. To pick the flesh off my fucking bones.”

  “We’d hardly want to do that with your bones Schultz, poxed up and fungus ridden as they may possibly be.”

  “Jesus what human beings you are.”

  “Schultz I feel somehow you’re withholding something from us. That in fact you did plunge it eighteen miles or so up the au pair’s orifice.”

  “I did like fucking hell plunge it up her orifice. And what’s more you fucking well know I didn’t.”

  “Ah Schultz, at last. Binky and I are relieved. And your terribly anxious upset attitude about this matter is, forgive me, I must say it, no longer highly suspicious. And we can all relax and even consider shaking hands with you again without nasty thoughts of contagion. And we don’t think you’re down. Temporarily dismayed perhaps. And after you are cured.”

  “Cured. I’m not sick yet.”

  “Well just in case you needed to be cured. Then later we would gladly let you back in on a piece of the action. To use one of your more endearing phrases.”

  “Let me in on a piece of the action. Me. Who’s sweated my guts out on a shoestring and with contracts already signed that could hang me. It’s still my fucking show. And no diseases from some dirty Dutch bitch from Rotterdam is going to make it otherwise.”

  “That’s unchivalrous of you to say Schultz, she was after all an attractive girl, outwardly at least. And any of us could be forgiven had we taken an interlocking orifice liberty with her.”

  “Stop saying orifice, will you. I took no fucking liberties with anybody. And I’m just upset because, well I’m just a good citizen that’s all.”

  “You are a foreigner Schultz.”

  “What difference does that make. I can still behave like a good citizen. Diseases like that bitch brought to town, I’m concerned. It stands to fucking reason.”

  “Dear me Schultz, you are at the most unexpected of times quite commendable and I am relieved to hear of your fervent sense of civic duty and I think I speak on behalf of all of us here at Sperm Productions who might have risked contagion from you. But of course I do hope you’ll understand Schultz if one still keeps one’s breathing distance away.”

  His Lordship in his rumpled dark blue gabardine suit, turning again to confront Schultz. Whose tie knot was now loose and askew at his throat and three of his buttons open on his shirt as he stood, his sunglasses back on, jerking his thumb.

  “If fucking Binky I can hear busting his gut laughing out there in the hall caught it he’d find it a lot less fucking amusing, let me tell you.”

  “Indeed, Schultz, that stands, to use your terminology, to fucking reason. But surely the word fucking is no longer called for as an adjective in this discussion. Especially as you imply you did not do any with the lady in question. And were then and are now, merely an innocent calm citizen.”

  “Holy shit. I’m never totally calm. Anyway what do you want me to say. Don’t I have enough troubles. She was in my house. Eating my food. Taking in milk bottles off my stoop. And touched and had her fingers all over the milk caps. It happens plenty of times. But just in case, I got to know what the doctors say you should do.”

  “Simply let them know if any symptoms develop. And then to get in touch with them instantly.”

  “What kind of symptoms.”

  “With three diseases there are quite a number, but I believe they are all characterised by a mild tiredness towards late afternoon. Or in the mornings a sudden hair loss.”

  “Hair loss. I thought it was teeth. How much hair.”

  “A whole lot, evidently. Why Schultz are you putting your hand up to your head like that.”

  “No fucking reason.”

  “Well if it’s any help, pubic hair loss is just as copious as the head hair loss.”

  “Pubic.”

&nb
sp; “Yes. But please don’t start opening up your fly to look now Schultz. Of course a damn nuisance in that area of one’s anatomy. To suddenly confront a lady friend out of the blue one morning with hairless pudenda when the previous evening it was hairy.”

  “Jesus.”

  “Also one has a sense of thirst. Not that your wanting a glass of water a minute ago Schultz could possibly be taken in that context in the least. Now really the way you’re down again up again hopping around you’d think one was now suggesting the girl was rabid.”

  “Don’t worry what you’ve already told me that Rotterdam bitch has got is enough.”

  “Well Schultz, I see by my watch I must run. Tell you if I hear anything more.”

  “Tell me if you hear anything more. Hey what the fuck are you talking about. You’ve already told me enough for a lifetime. And Jesus do you have to go already.”

  “I’m afraid so Schultz. Hubert’s waiting to take me to pick up some antique and rather valuable jewelry items at Christies. And they close in half an hour.”

  “Christ you can walk there, it’s only two seconds around the corner.”

  “Well it’s rather expected of me to, how shall we put it, to arrive in suitable style.”

  “Jesus you worry about style at a fucking time like this.”

  Under the not unloving gaze of his Lordship, Schultz sitting back down on the chaise longue. The chef Mario and his assistant with head nods and smiles wheeling out his tables. Schultz’s elbows planted apart on his knees and face bent down into his hands. Right under Sperm Productions’ most prized autographed photograph of a smiling health glowing famed male Hollywood movie star. And then Schultz opening his mouth and with his fingers tugging on his front teeth. And as his left hand ran up through his hair, his right scratched and pinched in the area of his crotch.

  “Holy Jesus fucking christ. There’s something loose already down there.”

  “Schultz, do be calm. Here’s your water.”

  Binky holding out a brimming glass to Schultz. Who suddenly jumping to his feet knocks the water from Binky’s fingers and rushes out into the hall. Where the water closet door could be heard opening and slamming loudly shut.

  “I say your Royal Amazing Grace, those vomiting noises one hears. What do you suppose is wrong with our little theatrical friend Schultzy boy there. He appears to be having a little spot of bother of some sort in the confines of the water closet, poor chap.”

  Dear me

  He is

  Suffering

  So

  6

  On that sumptuously lunched afternoon, Schultz wasted no time in getting in touch with Harley Street. Five minutes later having ashen faced reappeared from the water closet and sat a moment wiping his brow, and then jumping to his feet and with fists clenched, he could be overheard screaming at his Lordship’s and Binky’s beloved curvaceous and statuesque secretary Rebecca.

  “Yes, I want a certain kind of doctor in Harley Street.”

  “What kind sir.”

  “Didn’t you hear what I said, a certain kind. Don’t you know what kind that is.”

  No journey was ever as dark. Or London buildings so grey. This late afternoon up a thronged Regent Street. Schultz, his white knuckles gripped on each knee held on to himself as his taxi rolled around a sombre Cavendish Square. And turned north into Harley Street where one block further on, Schultz found himself along a dark passage in a chilly water closet, pissing into a bottle.

  “Christ even my kidneys are hurting now. I can’t just let myself die. Not in the middle of what could be my first chance of a big hit. With a fucking eruption of money. Soaking me right through to my skin.”

  A more than somewhat attractive nurse smilingly taking the urine warm vial from Schultz. And then being led back upstairs, watching her lean shapely legs flexing before him, Schultz tripped. And again aroused the painful maim in his toes. To limp on the arm of the nurse into a large office to sit before this bowtied and suede waistcoated medical gentleman. Who increasingly creased his forehead, and as Schultz again explained his diseases, deepened his frown and finally removed his glasses.

  “Well Mr. Schultz, although I’ve not heard of it up until five o’clock today, believe me it’s entirely possible that something resembling this Oriental Venereal Plague you speak of exists. And that our medical service would be most concerned. Of course I’ll have it checked immediately. But I hardly think the World Health Organization would fail to signal it to the medical world. Now you say this Dutch lady is no longer resident in your household. Do you have her address.”

  “Address.”

  “Yes.”

  “Hey doc, if you don’t mind I’d like not to get into that kind of stuff. And start handing out private addresses. Like you, I’ve got a kind of confidential occupation.”

  “Mr. Schultz, I regret to say, it’s not only her address I’d like. But I should also require the address of anyone with whom you’ve had any sexual intimacy of any kind since you met the Dutch girl.”

  “Wow. This is a kind of a shakeroo, doc.”

  “Yes I know. And indeed, no doubt, it will be fraught with possible embarrassment for you. But I assure you it’s all kept extremely confidential until such time as we discover whether or not you are infected. And that will take at least until the report comes back from the laboratory. It is a precaution we must take for the benefit of others. Anyway for a start let’s take a peek in your mouth. Have any difficulty in swallowing.”

  “No.”

  “Just open. Yes. I see. Throat glands seem all alright. Well it may be too early but you’re not exhibiting the signs of mumps and your mouth seems perfectly healthy. Indeed I’ve rarely seen a better set of teeth. Well then. So far, so good. But in respect of this other more serious matter, we must know Mr. Schultz, if you have had sexual intercourse or intimacy with anyone else since meeting the Dutch girl.”

  “Doc, look, I’m in the theatre, you understand. And you kind of sometimes find yourself with various people a lot.”

  “I see. Does this mean there are others who may be involved in exposure.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Might I ask, how many.”

  “Doc, look, do you want me to be honest.”

  “That would help considerably.”

  “Well the truth is I don’t know how many.”

  “I see.”

  “I mean don’t think I’m promiscuous. I mean I can remember some of them.”

  “I see.”

  “But doc Jesus don’t ask me to make a list of addresses.”

  “This is Mr. Schultz, I assure you, a medical matter not a moral one. So now if you would just please lower your trousers, I’ll examine you.”

  Schultz stood staring out a parting in the curtain beyond these pale glassed Georgian panes watching the other medical windows lighting up across the street as he was examined. The doctor saying he could as yet see no definite signs of pathology. But would, if Mr. Schultz would just milk his organ in a downward fashion, take a penis tip smear. And then a blood sample. Which latter nearly made Schultz faint. And at the office door came the doctor’s parting advice.

  “Have a little drink for yourself Mr. Schultz on the way home. And do take care of that black eye.”

  Evening rush hour traffic was throbbing as Schultz stopped his taxi on the way back to Belgravia. And bought a flask of whiskey. To uncork it and for the first time in his life to take a neat nip from the bare bottle of this spirit burning down his throat. To rush across the carpet the moment he got back into his hallway. Where the phone was ringing.

  “Is this you.”

  “Yeah who’s this.”

  “This is Al. You really lousy son of a bitch.”

  “What did I do now Al.”

  “What did you do now. I’ll tell you what you did now. You put her in hospital. With the beautiful kid having a nervous breakdown. And her mother hysterical crying on the telephone to me just a minute ago. That’s what you did now.” br />
  “Hey Al, can I just gently tell you one thing.”

  “What gently are you going to tell me. That you broke your prick trying to fuck her, is that what.”

  “No that’s not what. I’m going to tell you if you’d listen that she’s kidding for Christ’s sake.”

  “Kidding. When she had to have X rays and serious tests. You call that kidding.”

  “Yeah, I’m calling it kidding. Her two ton mother was there eating caviar while her daughter was having her hair done by some Bond Street transvestite and the place was filled with flowers.”

  “Did you send her flowers.”

  “No Al, I did not send her flowers.”

  “Well I sent the girl flowers.”

  “O.K. Al, so you sent her flowers. I know that was a wonderful gesture, but why didn’t you send her also a bible, a rosary, a yarmulke.”

  “Hey don’t you get smart with me wise guy.”

  “Look Al.”

  “You look. I don’t give a damn about you running some kind of whorehouse you got there. Girls knocking on the door around the clock. But you’re not going to do this to that girl.”

  “Do what and nobody’s knocking on my door. I’m a producer for fucks sake. I got to see girls all the time. And hey Jesus Al, just by the way you know, you got fucking girls girls girls coming and going day and night.”

  “Yeah but there’s a difference. I’m mature about it.”

  “Holy shit Al, I’m not going to get anywhere talking to you. Especially when what happened was that that poor girl’s two ton mother was waking the dead and gave me a black god damn eye.”

  “Ha ha ha hey that’s good.”

  “You think that’s funny Al.”

  “Yeah I do. It’s exactly like you deserve. Now you go back to that hospital and apologise. Or else I’ll see to it that your name is such mud in this town that it wouldn’t be worth scraping off a shoe.”

  “What is this, blackmail Al.”

  “You get to that fucking hospital like I’m telling you that’s all.”

  “I just come this second in from the doctor’s.”

  “So what’s wrong with you. And what’s that noise.”