Little Men, Big World Read online

  “What guy?”

  “Why ... the guy we talked about. You know.”

  “I’ll have to check with the Mover. See you next week, same time, same station.” Arky hung up, laughing to himself. Leon sure sounded bewildered.

  Arky was in a wonderful humor and the smell of steak made him feel even better. Whistling, he walked down the hallway and looked into the kitchen. Milli was bending over the stove, wrestling with some saucepans. Hearing something, she turned, saw Arky in the doorway, screamed, and dropped one of the pans.

  “Oh, Christ,” said Arky to himself, “what an animal!” Then he turned and walked down the hall to the spare bedroom, opened the door, and went in.

  Anna, wearing a white smock and looking like a dentist’s assistant or a masseuse, was leaning over an article of furniture Arky had never seen before, working on the baby, who was kicking around, waving his little fists, and chortling.

  Anna glanced over her shoulder at Arky, but said nothing By the bed was a beautiful new basket, lined with padded blue satin and decorated with fine lace. Arky noticed a huge pile of baby clothes, a basket of bottles, three pale-blue blankets, a humidity gauge and thermometer in one, several jars of nipples and caps, and even a couple of small toys—all new.

  “Poor little devil,” said Anna, “he didn’t have nothing, nothing at all. He was sleeping in a market-basket.”

  Arky made no comment; he was staring at the naked baby in wonder.

  “Lord Almighty,” he said, “look at the pecker on him.”

  Anna flushed violently and, turning, swung at Arky with the diaper. “You dirty thing!” she cried. “That lovely baby. You get out of here.”

  Arky roared with laughter, sank down on the edge of the bed and held his sides. Anna turned to look at him several times as she pinned on the diaper, then she began to smile, then to laugh.

  “I was just surprised, that’s all,” explained Arky. “Them Polacks!”

  “He can stay, can’t he, Arky?” Anna demanded all of a sudden. “She can’t look after him, hasn’t got sense enough—and all she’s worrying about is that damn fool boy-friend of hers. He hates the baby: ran away and left her on account of it. Course he’s only eighteen—just a kid.”

  “He’s a Polack, too?”

  “Yes, but his name’s Chuck.”

  “Chuck what?”

  “She didn’t tell me.”

  “Probably don’t know. Probably the kid didn’t even take his hat off.”

  “They’re married,” said Anna, loftily, throwing a triumphant look at Arky. “She’s got the license.”

  “Did you see it?”

  “No, I been too busy. Look at all the stuff I bought.”

  “Yeah. I notice. Listen, the guy’s name will be on the license, unless he stiffed it.”

  “I don’t care what his name is. All I care about is this little love. Look at him, Arky. How cute can you get?”

  “He looks just like another fat baby to me.”

  “Come here and feel how strong he is.”

  “No, the hell with it. Babies are for women.”

  Anna turned and looked at Arky for a long time. “You know,” she said at last, “I been trying to make myself believe that once upon a time you was a cute little baby like this, but it’s no use, I can’t do it.”

  “You know something?” Arky demanded. “You look mighty cute in that white thing you got on. Mighty cute.”

  “Supper’s almost ready,” said Anna. “Anyway, I got to look after the baby. Why don’t you go change your clothes or something? Read the paper?”

  Arky took out a cigarette and lit it, then comfortably crossed his legs. “Why don’t the kid take her baby home?”

  “She’s got ten brothers and sisters, all sizes. No room. Anyway, her old man kicked her out. Thad’s awful strict.”

  “But they’re married.”

  “They got married since; then the kid run off and left her. Couldn’t stand the baby.”

  “Well, she can go home now, can’t she, now she’s married?”

  “Thad won’t even speak to her. He beat her with a stick. They had the police. It was awful, I guess.”

  “Fine thing,” said Arky, staring at the end of his cigarette. “Don’t the old Polack know it can happen to anybody?” Anna laughed appreciatively, then she lifted the baby up and showed him to Arky. He was dressed for sleeping, in a little blue gown.

  “Look at him, Ark. He can stay, can’t he?”

  “Well,” said Arky, “I don’t want to see him out in the street, nor the animal in the kitchen either. But … look; can’t you get her a room in the neighborhood or something? I don’t want that kid crying and waking me up, for Christ’s sake!”

  “I tell you she hasn’t got sense enough to look after him. She gets impatient with him when he won’t eat fast enough, and shakes him. When he’s got gas she just lets him cry. She’s only a baby herself—sixteen. Just.”

  Arky sighed. “God, I don’t know. Funny things sure happen to a fellow.”

  “We might have had one ourselves. You never know. Then what?”

  “You ain’t been.”

  “It could happen.”

  Arky stood up and stretched. Just as he was going to say something Milli came slinking in with her hands behind her back, glancing at Arky fearfully. She hesitated for a moment, handed Arky something quickly, then ran out.

  “What the hell is this?” Arky demanded, staring at the piece of paper.

  Anna came over and took it. It’s her marriage license. You see?”

  “What’s the father’s name?”

  Anna studied the license. “It’s ... Aloysius Sienkiewicz.”

  “It’s what?” asked Arky, staring.

  Anna repeated it, then turned to the baby. “That’s you, darling. Thaddeus Sienkiewicz.”

  Arky went out in disgust.

  In a few days Arky got used to the baby, and even showed a faint interest in it at times, but he couldn’t get used to Milli, who never relaxed for a moment when he was around. She always got as far away from him as possible; when he spoke to her she became completely tongue-tied, and no longer even muttered something in Polish or said: “I don’t understand.”

  Anna tried to explain the situation to Arky. “You see, you’re the head of the house, Arky, and she thinks you’re like her old man. He belts the kids around pretty good. Not because he’s mean; he ain’t. But because he wants them to grow up to be decent people. That’s why he gave Milli such a beating that time…”

  “He was a little late, wasn’t he? The barn was empty; the horse’d already been stolen.”

  “Never mind the hick talk. I’m trying to tell you something. So you see, she thinks you’re like Thad. She’s figuring she’ll do something wrong without knowing it and you’ll cuff her around. You may not realize it, Arky; but you got a mighty mean look in those small eyes of yours at times.”

  “I don’t look mean at her. She just irritates me. What an animal!”

  “You ought to be ashamed of yourself talking that way. She may be dumb, but she means well. You weren’t so smart when you were sixteen, I’ll bet.”

  “I’m not so smart right now,” said Arky. “But that Milli, she don’t know her ass from a slippery ellum.”

  “There you go again. Long as you’ve been out of the bushes, and you still talk like a hillbilly radio show. Why don’t you talk to fit your suit?”

  “You wouldn’t go so well in Riverview yourself.”

  “My old man still can’t talk English. Neither can my mother. Neither can some of my cousins, or even my own sister. I think I do pretty good. But you! All your folks been here God knows how long…”

  “Since the Revolution, by Christ,” said Arky. “I had three great-grandfathers in the Civil War.”

  “Who won?” asked Anna.

  “Go on, Polack. You wouldn’t know about such things. All your folks were living in huts along a river some place at that time. Or maybe in trees.”
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br />   “That’s why you won’t marry me, isn’t it, Arky?” asked Anna suddenly, her face serious.

  Arky was slightly taken aback, and flushed. “Who says so?” he blustered. “I never did marry anybody yet, and I knew plenty of girls in Arkansas and here, too, before I ever saw you.”

  “All the same,” said Anna, “that’s the reason. You can’t kid me. You think foreigners stink.”

  To Arky’s intense astonishment, Anna burst into tears and ran out of his room, slamming the door after her. In a moment he heard her bedroom door slam down the hallway. Arky had been sitting on a straight chair; he jumped up and kicked the chair around the room. Then he went out and down the stairs to the pool hall, cursing to himself.

  “Women!” he cried under his breath. “Dames! You can’t satisfy ’em. Here she spends a couple hundred bucks on that damned Polack kid and I don’t say nothing, nothing at all!”

  He stopped before the door of the bookie room to compose himself. When he entered, his face was blank, but it didn’t matter because everybody had gone home except for a couple of young roustabouts who were sweeping up the litter—and Zand, who was sitting on the counter, reading a tabloid. He looked tired and his yellow Chinese-yellow shirt was all sweated under the arms, but his black eyes flashed when he saw Arky, and without a word he handed him the paper.

  A headline read: NOTED FRONT CLUB RAIDED.

  “Bandbox?” asked Arky.

  Zand nodded, grinning. “Yeah, and it says they busted up ten thousand dollars’ worth of gambling equipment.”

  “The Officer did it up brown.”

  “Yeah. Says the proprietor’s going to sue.”

  “Does it name the proprietor?”

  “Yeah. Augie West.” Zand’s face clouded. “Say, ain’t he one of ours?”

  Arky glanced across the room at the roustabouts to be sure they weren’t trying to listen, then, reassured, he said; “Used to be.”

  “He’s the one who sold out, eh? I wasn’t just sure.”

  “Well, he gets credit for it, anyway. Good friend of Leon’s, though.”

  Zand raised his eyebrows, but made no further comment. Arky handed Zand a cigarette, took one himself; they lit up and sat on the counter swinging their feet. Finally Zand turned to Arky.

  “How’s Buster coming?”

  “The kid? Fine. Growing already.”

  “Sure got Lola all upset.”

  “Dames are aways upset. But how do you mean?”

  “She wants to have a kid like Buster.”

  Arky almost fell off the counter. "Lola!”

  “Yeah! Can you imagine a knocked-out broad like that? Good kid. Sure. But she’s been round the wheel, brother—and shows it. I says to her: ‘Be yourself, will you? We ain’t even married so how can we have a kid?’ ‘It’s done every day,’ she says, wisecracking; but she was serious all the same. Can you beat it?”

  “The older I get the less I understand about women.”

  “It’s not that I’d mind marrying Lola,” said Zand. “But I’m out of the habit now. I was married when I was seventeen. Syrian girl—my cousin. She was too Syrian for me. I’m an American, Goddamn it!”

  Arky glanced at Zand sideways, but made no comment. “Yeah,” Zand went on, “I’m just out of the habit.”

  The buzzer from upstairs sounded under the counter and Arky got down.

  “Anna, I guess,” he said. “Now what?”

  Zand laughed and waved ironically. Arky hurried out and up the stairs. Anna was waiting for him on the landing. “Telephone,” she said. “Leon.”

  Arky threw her a surprised glance, then a smile of satisfaction began to spread slowly over his rugged homely face. He went into his bedroom, closed the door, picked up the phone and said: “Leon? What’s with you?”

  “Where you been? Why haven’t I heard from you?” Leon sounded both worried and irritated.

  “I’m not due till tomorrow night. Something wrong?”

  “I thought we were going to get together. I can’t keep this guy waiting around forever, Ark.”

  “Well, send him back to the Big City then.”

  Dead silence at the other end for a moment. “I wish you’d stop playing horse, Ark. This is serious.”

  “Sure is.”

  “I’m only trying to do what’s right, and what’ll help us, Ark. You know that.”

  “Oh, sure, sure,” said Arky with exaggerated irony.

  “Have you contacted the Mover?”

  “Tried to. But he’s been very busy. He’ll get around to it sooner or later. Keep your shirt on.”

  A pause. “We better get some action, Arky. And not only on this business. How about the Bandbox? There goes five hundred a week.”

  “I heard a funny thing about the Bandbox,” said Arky. “Did you?”

  A pause. “What do you mean, Ark?”

  “If you don’t know, it ain’t up to me to tell you. You should get around faster, husk a little more corn.”

  “Would you explain that last remark? I never been to Arkansas.”

  “It’s a nice place if you like country. Anything else, Leon?”

  “Anything else? We’ve got no place so far.”

  “I’ll try to get in touch with the Mover before I see you tomorrow.”

  “All right. And say, try to find out what he’s going to do about the Bandbox. That’s serious.”

  “He ain’t going to do nothing. He already did it.”

  “You mean he…”

  “Look, Leon. Out-of-towners may think they are dealing with country boys. But sometimes country boys know the time of day, too.” Arky hung up, grunting with satisfaction. Let Leon sleep on that one. Hundred to one Leon’s guy would be waiting to talk to him tomorrow. He’d have to contact the Mover, see what he should do about it.

  It was almost midnight. Arky was lying on his bed in the dark, staring up at the ceiling, at the shifting reflected pattern of light from the street. He felt lazy and contented. Anna had been with him for an hour and they’d had one of their good nights. These were getting fewer and farther between, but, no use to kid yourself, that was in the cards, because they’d known each other for years. Good gal, Anna. It was as if she’d been trying to make up to him on account of the row they had. Arky began to sing, going away back absentmindedly for a song:

  Possum in the treetop,

  Way up high,

  I'll get him down from there,

  By and by!

  Sweet potatoes cooking in the pot.

  Here I come, possum,

  Ready or not!

  Anna had been feeding the baby. She came back laughing.

  “You should have seen him eat tonight, Ark. Like a bear. Say, was that you singing?”

  “Me? I don’t know,” said Arky with some embarrassment. “I was half asleep.”

  “Oh, that little doll-dear,” said Anna, sitting on the edge of the bed. “I could squeeze him to death. He went right back to sleep. I got a song I sing him in Polish about good St. Wenceslas. He likes it. And when I call him Thaddeus he likes that, too!”

  “I’d think the poor kid would puke. You sing in Polack and call him Thaddeus. That’s a hell of a name for a kid.”

  “What’s wrong with it?”

  “This is America. That’s no name for an American kid.”

  Anna began to get angry but restrained herself. Things were going well with Arky and the baby right now, why spoil it? She decided to defer to him. “Well, what should we call him then?”

  “I don’t know,” said Arky. “How about Elmer? That’s my brother. Or Leroy? That’s another brother. I got one named Anderson, too; and another one named Tasker. But them’s family names. Couldn’t name him after the old man, either!”

  “Why not?”

  “On account of the name Grandma hung on him. Grandma was hell for reading the Bible. She hung a Biblical name on him.”

  “What was it?”

  Arky hesitated for a moment, shifting. Finally he said, laughing
: “Levi.”

  “Levi!” shrieked Anna. “That’s a Jewish name.”

  “No, no,” said Arky. “Lots of old-fashioned old fellows in Arkansas named Levi. Matter of fact, fellow named Levi Startle runs the drugstore at Dry River right now.”

  “Levi Startle! Dry River!” cried Anna. “Jesus! Sounds like you’re making it up. But I got a better idea for the baby. We’ll call him Orv, after you.”

  “Not after me you won’t. He ain’t my kid. Anyway, if we change his first name, might as well change his last name, too. Nobody can spell it or even pronounce it!”

  “I want Zand to stop calling him Buster. I don’t like it.”

  “It’s better than Thaddeus.”

  “Move over,” said Anna. “I’m coming in.”

  “You’re going to get disappointed.”

  “Don’t flatter yourself. It’s cold out here.”

  Anna got into bed and pulled up the covers. There was a long silence; finally Anna said:

  “I don’t know what we’re going to do about Milli. She cries herself to sleep every night.”

  “Why? Plenty to eat around here. Got a nice room.”

  “It’s on account of Chuck. She keeps writing him letters.”

  “Does she know where he is?”

  “No. She sends ’em to a place where he used to work. Somebody might know.”

  “I doubt it,” said Arky. “Babies scare a lot of guys. Every once in a while down home some fellow used to hit the road on account of a baby—or one coming, anyway. It’s only natural.”

  “It’s a hell of a way to act just the same.”

  “How about the girl? If she’d’ve behaved herself—no baby.”

  “Easy to say. Girls are human.”

  “Yeah,” said Arky. “You can get yourself in a hell of a lot of trouble just being human.”

  6

  PAY NIGHT. Zand drove the car in behind the Club Imperial and took the usual stall; Leon’s chartreuse convertible was parked nearby, polished and waxed and shining like a big curved mirror; the usual colored boy in gold jumpers came round the comer, took a look at Zand’s car, then went away again.