按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
Jake Blount leaned across the table and the words came out as
though a dam inside him had broken。 Biff could not
understand him any more。 Blount's tongue was so heavy with
drink and he talked at such a violent pace that the sounds were
all shaken up together。 Biff wondered where he would go
when Alice turned him out of the place。 And in the morning
she would do it； too—like she said。
Biff yawned wanly； patting his open mouth with his fingertips
until his jaw had relaxed。 It was almost three o'clock； the most
stagnant hour in the day or night
The mute was patient。 He had been listening to Blount for
almost an hour。 Now he began to look at the clock
occasionally。 Blount did not notice this and went on without
a
pause。 At last he stopped a to roll a cigarette； and then the
mute nodded his head in the direction of the clock； smiled in
that hidden way of his； and got up from the table。 His hands
stayed stuffed in his pockets as always。 He went out quickly。
Blount was so drunk that he did not know what had happened。
He had never even caught on to the fact that the mute made no
answers。 He began to look around the place with his mouth
open and his eyes rolling and fuddled。 A red vein stood out on
his forehead and he began to hit the table angrily with his
fists。 His bout could not last much longer now。
'Come on over；' Biff said kindly。 〃Your friend has gone。
'
The fellow was still hunting for Singer。 He had never seemed
really drunk like that before。 He had an ugly look。
'I have something for you over here and I want to speak with
you a minute；' Biff coaxed。
Blount pulled himself up from the table and walked with big；
loose steps toward the street again。
Biff leaned against the wall。 In and out—in and out。 After all；
it was none of his business。 The room was very empty and
quiet。 The minutes lingered。 Wearily he let his head sag
forward。 All motion seemed slowly to be leaving the room。
The counter； faces； the booths and tables； the radio in the
corner； whirring fans on the ceiling—all seemed to become
very faint and still。
He must have dozed。 A hand was shaking his elbow。 His wits
came back to him slowly and he looked up to see what was
wanted。 Willie； the colored boy in the kitchen； stood before
him dressed in his cap and his long white apron。 Willie
stammered because he was excited about whatever he was
trying to say。
'And so he were 1…1…lamming his fist against this here brick w…
w…wall。
'
'What's that？
'
'Right down one of them alleys two d…d…doors away。
'
Biff straightened bis slumped shoulders and arranged his tie。
'What？
'
'And they means to bring him in here and they liable to pile in
any minute
'
'Willie；' Biff said patiently。 'Start at the beginning and let me
get this straight。
'
'It this here short white man with the m…m…mustache。
'
。Mr。 Blount。 Yes》
'Well—I didn't see how it commenced。 I were standing in the
back door when I heard this here commotion。 Sound like a big
fight in the alley。 So I r…r…run to see。 And this here white man
had just gone hog wild。 He were butting bis head against the
side of this brick wall and hitting with his fists。 He were
cussing and fighting like I never seen a white man fight
before。 With just this here wall。 He liable to broken his own
head the way he were carrying on。 Then two white mens who
had heard the commotion come up and stand around and
look'22
'So what happened？'
'Well—you know this here dumb gentleman—hands in
pockets—this here'
'Mr。 Singer。'
'And he come along and just stood looking around to see what
it were all about。 And Mr。 B…B…Blount seen him and
commenced to talk and holler。 And then all of a sudden he
fallen down on the ground。 Maybe he done really busted his
head open。 A p…p…p…police come up and somebody done told
him Mr。 Blount been staying here。'
Biff bowed his head and organized the story he had just heard
into a neat pattern。 He rubbed his nose and thought for a
minute。
〃They liable to pile in here any minute。' Willie went to the
door and looked down the street 'Here they all come now。
They having to drag him。'
A dozen onlookers and a policeman all tried to crowd into the
restaurant。 Outside a couple of whores stood looking in
through the front window。 It was always funny how many
people could crowd in from nowhere when anything out of the
ordinary happened。
'No use creating any more disturbance than necessary；' Biff
said。 He looked at the policeman who supported the drunk。
'The rest of them might as well clear out。'
The policeman put the drunk in a chair and hustled the little
crowd into the street again。 Then he turned to Biff： 'Somebody
said he was staying here with you。'
'No。 But he might as well be；' Biff said。
'Want me to take him with me？'
Biff considered。 'He won't get into any more trouble tonight。
Of course I can't be responsible—but I think this will calm
him down。'
'O。K。 I'll drop back in again before I knock off。'
Biff； Singer； and Jake Blount were left alone。 For the first
time since he had been brought in； Biff turned his attention to
the drunk man。 It seemed that Blount had hurt his jaw very
badly。 He was slumped down on the table with his big hand
over his mouth； swaying backward and forward。 There was a
gash in his head and the blood ran from his temple。 His
knuckles were skinned raw； and he was so filthy that he
looked as if he had been pulled by the scruff of the neck from
a sewer。 All the juice had
23
spurted out of him and he was completely collapsed。 The mute
sat at the table across from him； taking it all in with his gray
eyes。
Then Biff saw that Blount had not hurt his jaw； but he was
holding his hand over his mouth because bis lips were
trembling。 The tears began to roll down his grimy face。 Now
and then he glanced sideways at Biff and Singer； angry that
they should see him cry。 It was embarrassing。 Biff shrugged
his shoulders at the mute and raised his eyebrows with a what…
to…do？ expression。 Singer cocked his head on one side。
Biff was in a quandary。 Musingly he wondered just how he
should manage the situation。 He was still trying to decide
when the mute turned over the menu and began to write。
// you cannot think of any place for him to go he can go home
with me。 First some soup and coffee would be good for him。
With relief Biff nodded vigorously。
On the table he placed three special plates of the last evening
meal； two bowls of soup； coffee； and dessert。 But Blount
would not eat。 He would not take his hand away from his
mouth； and it was as though his lips were some very secret
part of himself which was being exposed。 His breath came in
ragged sobs and his big shoulders jerked nervously。 Singer
pointed to one dish after the other； but Blount just sat with his
hand over his mouth and shook his head。
Biff enunciated slowly so that the mute could see。 'The
jitters' he said conversationally。
The steam from the soup kept floating up into Blount's face；
and after a little while he reached shakily for his spoon。 He
drank the soup and ate part of his dessert。 His thick； heavy lips
still