A Singular Man Part 34

"Shut up, you."

"Mister I was only telling her."

"Save your breath. Or it may be your last."

"Mister you're talking like some kind of cowboy."

"Never mind my western experience."

"George such a mountain out of a molehill."

"Under which, Your Majesty, I have no intention to lie. Dead in this park."

"Hey mister, please don't hit me but is the lady some kind of Majesty."

"She's Her Royal Highness, Queen Evangiline."

"No kidding mister, a real Queen. Queen can I just touch you, the guys in the gang would be glad you was a Queen."

"Of course sonny. You can touch me."

"Move one finger kid and I'll kill you."

"George I've had enough. Let this poor boy out. What's he done to you. Let him touch me."

"In a minute his friends will be out blocking the road ahead of us. This driver trying to string out the distance, is taking us around the long leg of a triangle."

"You're such a cheapskate George. I saw you slip the doorman that questionable coin. You're rich."

"You'll have these kids asking for ransom"

"Hey mister what kind of people are you I never even seen people like you in the movies."

"You impertinent little pup, for the last time keep, I said-"

"Ouch mister."

"Keep your mouth shut. I knew it. There's die gang ahead on the road. Driver, you up there, pull up at die group of boys."

"I will like h.e.l.l, mister you think I want my cab wrecked, what do you take me for."

"They'll panic die horses you thick idiot. I've got this kid as a hostage. Pull up."

Driver laying the lash of the whip on the horses' backsides. Two of the kids with flying leaps catching the reins and hanging on. Horses rearing, nearly plunging back in their traces. Honk of horns. Traffic swerving. George with blunderbuss pressed hard against the backbone of the kid. Hoof sparks on the road. Driver shouting regrettable language. Lashing out with his whip. Taking a more moderate look at the situation when they announce.

"We just want that guy and the member of the gang inside."

"O my G.o.d George, they mean business."

"I told you Queenie. O.K. kid, tell them what the score is. For them to stand back or else you get a blast in the backbone. Go ahead."

"Guys, he's got a gun in my back don't do nothing."

"Now tell them to stand back off the road."

"Hey guys there's a real Queen in here, a real Queen, leave her alone. But get the guy it's no gun he's got but just an ordinary cane, I saw it."

Smith with a swift motion catching the kid by the hair and raising him to the window. Encircling his neck with an arm and compressing it to a sudden strand of shoe string, mouth open, tongue out, eyes popping.

"The first one of you to touch this carriage and I break his neck."

Across the spidery tree tops the sound of a siren. Gang gesturing to the half strangled speechless kid. George Smith's calm hard eyes. The driver relaxing waiting for his male pa.s.senger to be dragged out and kicked to death in the short bushes. A small gurgling noise coming out of the hostage's throat. The gang wide eyed, yelling at the steamy gla.s.s window.

"Hey mister you're killing him, he's choking can't you see."

"Step back or I snap his head off. off. Back further." Back further."

"You better let him go mister, we'll get you."

"Driver move on. One of you takes a step after this cab and I throw him out dead."

Gang leader holding up a staying hand. Faces peering out of the quickly pa.s.sing cars to view the parkland spectacle. While running up their windows and locking their doors. A population to which you could appeal for help. If you wanted to share your money.

Clip clop. Forging on. Smith releasing the kid's neck. Her Majesty leaning over him as he collapsed gasping in a heap. A flash of lamplight striking his face. A choir boy. For a moment. Law of averages have failed to prevent one disaster following another. Smart kid, with the right idea. Call the bluff always, because if the other guy's got the gun you won't live anyway. Her Majesty silent. Constricted in her fur. George out the window to the driver.

"Slow down. I'm dumping this kid out."

"Bring him to the police."

"Slow down. Wretch."

"Hey mister what's wrong with you bring the kid to the police."

"I said slow down."

"It's my cab mister, dump the kid at the precinct."

"See this stick, you want it wrapped around your neck."

"Look mister, don't get hot under the collar, I'm slowing down,"

"O.K. kid, I'm kicking you out. But I'll be in this park every night rill I track you and the gang down and strangle each one of you, so enjoy life till then."

"Mister ain't you got no mercy."

"Just for myself sonny."

"This is a jungle, just what I told my sister who wants to be a nun, kind of people around like you don't understand human decency."

Smith's foot pushing. Boy leaping. Landing on a bridle path. Standing up to make a rude gesture at Smith as he waved goodbye. Clip clop. Strings of light and flashing beams across the trunks of trees. Along by a lawn and the vacant back of the museum.

Smith paying off the horsecab. No safe way to travel. Cross this road to that coffee shop. Full of fluffy haired debutante girls. Buy Her Majesty a box of cheeroots. And get into this phone booth. Little clicks, tiny beeps. A bell.

"Herbert rescue me."

"Why sure, Mr. Smith. Where are you."

"By the entrance to the Art Museum in the park. I've just had a rather unfortunate canter in a buggy through The Ramble, should be renamed."

"I'll be right there. Maybe take me nine minutes. I'll use the siren."

Her Majesty so white and diminutive. Chilled, wrapping her arms round herself. Bonniface cruelly said of our relationship. She was robbing the cradle as I was robbing the grave. Look up under the great portico of the museum. Pigeons huddling in there, cooing in the shadows. One couldn't help finding the little rough neck charming. And ideal business partner.

"George, can't we wait in the coffee shop instead of the cold."

"Evangiline. Your pomp and my circ.u.mstance, why don't we live together far from mayhem, up there in the contemporary sky."

"Are you proposing."

"Yes. Bonniface best man. Baron Mumchance usher.

The Excelsior a refuge."

"I'll tell you later."

"Yes Ma'am."

Siren up the avenue. Approaching. Smith smiling. Gives one the inner sense of running everything. Boss. Big wheel. Sitting back in safety. Glad to see you Herbert. With the vehicle. Seems only a minute ago I stood in front of Miss Martin's one man firing squad. Sure enough she shot me. My Prep School diploma reframed. Everything coming together. Old friends. Reception at Renown. Will bring a new letter from ShirPs lawyer. Tie him in one more legal knot. Help Her Majesty into the car. She's gone all silent. Maybe Mr. Park has tried something funny. Off duty.

"Stop at Merry Mansions, Herbert. I've got to change."

"Siren, Mr. Smith."

"Please."

Dreadnaught singing out its wailing tune. Pedestrians turn heads. Cars stop. Guilt spreads everywhere. Had I run Bonnif ace to the airport with it blaring he would have refused forever to leave that hilarious safety.

"George."

"Your Majesty, you think I'm overdoing it."

"You're a dreamer."

"You forgive me for peeing off your terrace."

Crosstown streets. Between darkened stone houses, brown, grey, the tops lit like skulls. Dreadnaught's tiny green light glowing on the black roof above the windscreen. Stands at the moment for go. And disturbing the peace. Police always salute. Think I'm the chief. Chief thinks I'm the commissioner. Commissioner thinks I'm the mayor. Mayor thinks I'm the governor. That's how G.o.d was made. Head of heaven.

"George, will you have a b.u.t.terscotch. Will Herbert."

"Thanks ma'am."

"Herbert, b.u.t.terscotch."

"No thanks, Mr. Smith."

We are so pleasant sucking the sweet. Twice escaped near certain death. Miss Tomson. That's why must ask you. A little message. Can't we lie quietly in each other's arms. My pole against your a.r.s.e. Whispering against the back of your ear. No. Not The Goose Goes Inn. Or. Like to get you right there. No. Just Miss Tomson, Sally. Together. What can be more than that. Until I die. For if a whisper means anything. If it means you'll hear it. Believe it. Be like my first little girl friend when they twisted her arm. Made her tiny note drop to the floor. Followed by her tears. When they made fun of her. And I loved her ever since.

Guess now Comes All winter sky Purple pink and sad Crossed By tree twigs Waving mad.

23.

"GEE Smithy, glad you came. Take your coat." Smithy, glad you came. Take your coat."

"Nearly didn't get. Got attacked by kids in the park."

"You're kidding."

"Sally Tomson. Evangiline Voninnocent."

"Hi."

"How do you do."

"Evangiline will vouch."

"That's O.K. Smithy, I believe, little kids are always trying to beat you up."

"Alas."

"Now come meet everybody. My fiance. There he is. Gee I'm glad you came. I was just thinking the second before the door slid open, where's the missing link. And you look so smart. You rent that."

"Sally, not so loud."

"Claude here he is. The one and only. I'll miss out the first eight initials. Claude H D N. And it's Van in, gee."

"Voninnocent, Sally. Evangiline."

"Gee, see. Well I know you're George Smith. Sorry Evangiline."

"Not at all."

"How do you do."