XIV

“Baby⁠—” began Shine.

“Don’t call me baby!” exploded Linda.

“ ’Smatter? Don’t you like children?”

“It sounds so⁠—common.”

“I couldn’ mean it that way⁠—you know that.”

“How do I know what you could mean?”

“Couldn’ ever say nothin’ common ’bout you. Couldn’ even think it. ‘Baby’s’ a nice name.”

“Think so? Well, save it for your sweetheart.”

“I did,” he grinned.

“Wrong number,” she said, but she smiled.

“That was my lucky day,” he mused. “What did Pat say to you that night? Why wouldn’t you ever tell me?”

Thus, while Bubber and Jinx discussed them over a pool table, Shine and Linda strolled slowly along the west walk of Riverside Drive. A few blocks east lay Harlem, black and sullen, too uncomfortable by far for dancing this hot August night, even the distant and circumspect dancing permitted in a parish hall. Nearer was Court Avenue, whither the present roundabout walk led.

Here on the Drive it was cool. Occasional meandering couples passed arm in arm, and on the long benches that rimmed the walk, facing the Hudson, still others made love, oblivious and unashamed.

“Huh?” insisted Shine.

“Nothing to tell,” murmured Linda.

“Must be. Saw enough myself to know that.”

“What’d you see?”

“Well, I’m lookin’ for Pat myself, see? He’s jes’ pulled a crooked deal on me a minute before, and I’m askin’ for ’im. Well, you know the crowd⁠—only people you can find is them y’ ain’t lookin’ for. I’m standin’ at the foot o’ the stairs lookin’ for that gray suit. Finally I sees it ’way across the floor⁠—and damn if the sleeves ain’t ’round your waist.”

“Stop swearing⁠—”

“That sort o’ cramps my style, see? Don’ want to mix you up in anything. But I got to have some o’ Patmore. So I’m standin’ there wonderin’ what the top card is and lookin’ at you. Then I see you don’ look so good⁠—kinda like a kitten some rough kid won’t turn loose. Turnin’ y’ head this way and d’ other way and sorter pullin’ ’way from this bird even though y’ keep on dancin’. And I smoke him over, and he’s grinnin’ like a Chess-cat with a mouse⁠—a nice young tender mouse, see what I mean? Well, I’ve seen that grin before, and I know it like I know my landlady’s. Only, any time I see a guy grin like that before, I jes’ feel kinda sorry for ’im f’ bein’ such a sap. This time I ain’t sorry. That same grin turns me cold.”

He paused so long that she urged him on. “You didn’t stay cold long.”

“No⁠—and why? Because the next thing I know you stop dancin’ right in the middle of a step and look at him like you didn’t know anybody’s breath could smell so bad⁠—”

“Oh!⁠—”

“But it don’ worry Mr. Patmore none. He jes’ pushes his face on out at y’, and makes another crack. That’s the one I want to know about, because that’s the time you jerks away from him like as if he burnt your fingers. Meantime the kacks is closin’ in and you can’t make a quick getaway. And when I come to, I’m down on the floor haulin’ it through the crowd.”

“There’s an empty bench under that tree,” discovered Linda. They sat down, deep in the shadow of foliage, and during a moment’s silence, looked out over the river. Directly opposite loomed the Palisades, like a wide and gloomy black fortress, clear-limned against a sky dimly pale with an adolescent moon. Below, the dark water glittered a smile that derided the callow moon’s wooing.

“Well, I don’ know jes’ what happens then,” Shine presently continued, “but when I reach for Pat, he’s breezed. Never see a man catch so much air so fas’. Then you looked like you was gonna cry and said you wanted to go home or some place⁠—so I took you.”

“I didn’t know what I was saying.”

“I did.”

“Seen ’im since?” she asked.

“No. That’s why I want the dope. When I crown ’im I want to tell ’im exactly what he’s king of.”

“You mustn’t bother ’im⁠—let ’im alone.”

“I got a picture o’ myself lettin’ any guy alone that gets fly with my girl.”

“Your what?”

“You ain’ blind.”

“Well of all the nerve!”

“Hit me,” he invited contritely, exposing a rugged cheek.

“Your⁠—” She was overcome. “Well what do you know about that?”

He answered her literally. “Nothin’, but I’m willin’ to learn.”

She averted her face to hide her smile. “I couldn’t have been your⁠—anything⁠—anyway, then. Didn’t even know your name.”

“Well,” he said with elaborate innuendo, “maybe I was jes’ a little bit previous.”

“What do you mean!”

“Nothin’ lady⁠—nothin’. Don’t get so excited. I jes’ mean to say, you know my name now, thass all.”

“Well, you needn’t think⁠—”

“And now that storm is over, how ’bout the dope?”

“What dope?”

“What ’d Pat say?”

She was silent a long time. The lights of a homeward bound excursion boat broke through the river’s moonlit smile, but when the ship had passed, the smile was still ironically there. Wraiths of music and laughter drifted shoreward.

“If you promise not to get in trouble over it⁠—”

“Promise anything. Spill it.”

“You know he had said there were prizes for the best costumes.”

“Yea⁠—and he was a judge.”

“Yes. Well, I believed it. When he came back for the second dance, he was lit. I’d asked some other folks about it⁠—”

“The Sunday School boys you was dancin’ with?”

“No! The girls I came with. I asked them about the prizes and nobody knew anything about ’em. But I wasn’t sure and I didn’t want to offend him if he was telling the truth. So instead of asking him right out, I said, ‘I thought you told me there were going to be prizes,’ just as if I’d already found out there wasn’t. And all he did was to grin with all those brass teeth of his. That made me mad, and I told him what I thought of anybody that would do anything like that⁠—and⁠—”

“Yea?”

“Well, finally when I saw he really had been lying, I stopped dancing and tried to walk off but he held me and people began to look. Then he said⁠—”

“Said what?”

“He said⁠—I needn’t act so disappointed over losin’ twenty-five dollars⁠—that he was a judge, all right⁠—and⁠—”

Her voice became low and hard. Unconsciously they drew closer together. “And what?” he said after a moment.

“Well⁠—he offered me twenty-five dollars.”

Silence enfolded them, deeper than the shadow. It seemed an endless period before someone laughed in the darkness a distance away. Thereupon the leaves of the tree overhead heaved a gentle, prolonged sigh.

They sat for a long time wordless, looking across the sardonic Hudson.