Wednesday, December 25, 2013
any humanly possible way I’d train to take only twenties.” Henri was
full of such mad schemes; he talked about that dog for weeks. Only once
an unlocked door. I didn’t like the idea so I sauntered on down the
hall. Henri stealthily opened it up. He came face to face with the very
thing he despised and loathed in life. This was the face of the barracks
supervisor. Henri hated that man’s face so much that he told me “What’s
the name of the Russian author you’re always talking about- -the one
who put the newspapers in his shoe and walked around in a stovepipe hat
he found in the garbage pail.” This was an exaggeration of what I’d told
Henri of Dostoevsky the holy Russian novelist saint. “Ah, that’s
it…that’s IT…DOSTIOFFSKI…A man with a face like that supervisor, the
manager, the boss man of the place. The only unlocked door he ever found
belonged to Dostioffski. Not only that, but D. was asleep when he heard
someone fiddling with his doorknob. He got up in his pajamas. He came
to the door looking twice as ugly as usual. When Henri opened it he saw a
haggard face suppurated with hatred and dull fury. “What is the meaning
of this?” “I was only trying this door…I thought this was
the…ah..mop room. I was looking for a mop.” “What do you MEAN you were
looking for a mop.” “Well..ah.” And I stepped back and said “One of the
men puked in the hall upstairs. We have to mop it up.” “This is NOT the
mop room. This is MY room. Another incident like this and I’ll have you
fellows investigated and thrown out! Do you understand me clearly?” “A
fellow puked upstairs,” I said again. “The mop room is down the hall.
Down there”- - and he pointed, and waited for us to go and get a mop, which
we did, and foolishly carried it upstairs. I said “Goddamn it Henri
you’re always getting us into trouble. Why don’t you lay off. Why do you
have to steal all the time.” “The world owes me a few things, that’s
all. You can’t teach the old maestro a new tune. You go on talking like
that and I’m going to start calling you Dostioffsky.” “Okay Hank. Go put
the mop back.” “You go put the mop back. I’ve not given up on these
doors.” He claimed he once found a man sleeping with a dollar sticking
out of
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment