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Authors: J. P. Donleavy

The Ginger Man (22 page)

BOOK: The Ginger Man
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"No, Kenneth. Would you garage my car"

"Jesus you're right That's it. My car. Would you garage my car. And into the Shelbourne rooms. They say it's the most beautiful bar in the world. Have Malarkey come and meet me. How do you do, Tony, how are things in the Catacombs?"

"Yes, Kenneth, you have the arse of a servant"

"You mean for riding. Built for a horse. Do you know that if it weren't for the British this place would be so many wild savages."

"I'm glad you've come to see it that way."

"The Irish feel that children are brought down upon them by the wrath of God for screwing. All you hear is that if it weren't for you kids life would be rosy and we could have a good time. But we worked and slaved ourselves to the bone to give you a little more than we had and now look at you, won't bring a penny into the house. No-good loafer wasting your time with these books when there are good jobs on the railroad."

"Geek."

In the eight o'clock sound and smell of Jury's lounge, they sat with stretched legs and toes twitching in their shoes, thawing damp bones in the centrally heated air. Priests scattered through the room, red faced, watery eyed and smoldering. Immaculate collars choking their scarlet necks, clerics in pain. With waitresses, young, black and round. Potted palms. It was not what was inside but what was outside that made what was inside so good and desirable. Because outside there is the gray wet over everything. And it came up through the shoes, soaking socks and squealing between the toes. Near here is the Bank of Ireland. So great and round and granite. Outside it a whore and a beggar.

"Well Kenneth it is fitting indeed that we should have the comfort of this fine room for our last day"

"That waitress, did you notice her teeth? They were white."

"Her eyes very fine too."

"Why can't I feel I could ever marry one of these girls?"

"Nothing more fashionable these days than to marry down, Kenneth."

"Be marrying one of my own, that's the trouble."

"I like your blood, darling."

"Yeah. My whole sexual life depends on the nuances of wealth. Come back from a good hard ride around the edges of the estate looking for poachers."

O'Keefe leaning back in this sudden glory, continuing with mellow aplomb.

"I pass the scullery out back and call, I say, Tessie, what's for dinner and Tessie scurries into the cook. Lady O'Keefe has already told me what's for dinner but in my little democratic way I have a banter with the scullery maids. Lady O'Keefe at one end of the table and I'm at the other and we discuss the estate and horses. I ask her what she did at the flower show and if any of our blossoms took a prize. After dinner to the library for expresso with a twist of lemon and a bottle of Hennessy. She reads me a play till ten. Goes; up to her room. I wait in the library for about ten minutes and go up to my own. I notice that the door between our rooms is slightly ajar. I wait a discreet ten minutes, tiptoe over, give a delicate knock, may I come in dear? Yes dear, do. Ha."

"Eeeeeee. Kenneth, if you're ever rich it will be an anticlimax."

"By God."

On O'Keefe's head a brown dirty tweed cap. Women in this lounge looking at the two of them with their legs stretched all over the place. And they were cocking their white ears to hear that bearded man go on about such fantastic things with that awful accent of his and who is that man with his haughty ways and county voice, flicking his fingers exquisitely and rolling his head back to belch laughter. So sure of themselves.

And between priests and pouting matrons were business men from Manchester who made furniture to sell to the civil servants for the sitting room and they were a little red faced, with a touch of proud overtone in their voices. They wore striped blue shirts with white stiff collars and their gent's natty suiting with white pin stripe and short coats where underneath it all were braces, red, blue, green and overlaps of wool and buttons here behind and everywhere. And men from Bradford and Leeds looking out of conservative corners of eyes. I know you are rich, in silk underwear and have finished a fine cut of meat with a small mountain of mushrooms, carrots, peas and other things.

Kenneth O'Keefe told the waitress he wanted coffee. He looked around the room to see who was watching or listening. Bent his head forward, removed his cap and scratched the back of his light brown head. Dangerfield semi-supine, his chin resting on his chest looking out broodingly at O'Keefe.

"This is our last night audience, Kenneth"

"Yup."

"After this the curtain comes down."

The business men from Bradford and Leeds who live between the brownstone buildings in sunless smoky streets, feeling and pricing cloth with darting eyes, spending long afternoons over tea and fittings for suits, with winter fogs outside their dark stone mansions. These men lean back in their chairs, pulling from their pockets silk, feathery handkerchiefs, and removing their glasses, pass the fine cloth sensuously back and forth, round and round, hard and then very softly touching the exquisite glass, holding them to the light and with rare, long fingers put them back over their eyes. In the throes of prices and bottoms dropping out of the market they are smiling, thinly but smiling, the richest men in the world.

"Kenneth, I'll walk as far as the quays with you."

"Suits me."

Kenneth O'Keefe gave a last smile to his charming waitress. They finished their coffee and stood up. The lights in the room grew brighter. Everyone stopped talking. In the silence, the two walked across the lounge. Waitresses in their black garb stood along the wall by the serving hatch. One of them nipping her head smartly in the hole and said they were going. Three more faces appeared with sparkling eyes. As they neared the door all faces were on them. All on their feet clapping. Shouting out of their mouths bravo. The lights brighter and clapping swarming up from their hands louder. The gentlemen from Bradford and Leeds cornering silk handkerchiefs in the tears in their eyes, twisting with an index finger, then blinking and watching. The priests up at last. I know they think us glorious. And uproarious. Our backs go out the swing door, pass into this street, narrows of warehouses and brokerages by day filled with the making of money and a deserted lane by night

"When you come back, Kenneth, I'll walk naked wearing a green bowler to greet you at the boat. With a donkey cart flying green streamers and shamrocks imported from Czechoslovakia and a band of girl pipers blowing like mad. Did you know that they imported the English Sparrow into America to eat the horseshit off the streets ? "

"No."

"Look into it. Got to fight, Kenneth. Must resist or go down in the pile. And perhaps there'll be a little richness for one of us soon. And when you're out there on that high sea I want you to remember to pray. Because I'll be in that city of London and London is groaning with lust. What do you think of that?"

"Nothing. I hate the place. One look out of Victoria Station was enough for me. What the hell, maybe you'll make out."

"Must fight. There are books, Kenneth, that tell us that we must. And also about the animals who gave up the ghost 246 No fight They put a little word at the bottom of the page to tell you something. Extinct. To be avoided"

"Here's where I leave you"

"Well, Kenneth, it's ironic Taking leave of you in the North of Dublin. Never thought this would ever happen to us"

"Give my regards to Tony and everyone. Although I think it unlikely, I hope to see you on your arse in the Old Bailey"

"Count on it Kenneth"

"Good luck"

"Take care"

O'Keefe sauntered sadly off and disappeared down this gray dark street called Seville Place. Dangerfield walked back across Butt Bridge, a finely divided rain falling. My body has blue joints. Ireland is heaven bound with this low weather. Rub my knuckles because this climate is only for brains. Cranes and masts down the river. On Aston Quay the last buses leaving for the country. And clusters of men hunched in black overcoats sucking cigarettes, spitting and mean. With tongues of shoes hanging out like dogs' hungry mouths. I'd give anything for a drink now. Wearing this rag of despair and sorrow. Full of holes and dirty. Across my shoulders wet and cold. They say nothing lasts. It's all gray. Gray for what? Gray for rain. And pink for poodles. Colors for everything. They say, green for work. Now what is it? For Idleness? I think the black. You there below decks, run up me little black ensign. Well? For lust. What are they going to say? Red? No. Not red. I think the brown. Brown for lust Red is for money and blue for deads.

Take deads

Away.

Play music

Please.

22

Miss Frost was lying upon her back, her head supported by two nice white pillows. There was a grayness under her eyes. Near to tears. Her hand divided over the back of her book, holding it face down on the covers. Mr. Dangerfield, arbiter of wisdom, stood erect at the bottom of her bed, concerned and loving. Looking at her eyes as they flashed sorrow and asked him to come to her for now. And they were in their little room together shut off from the rest of the house and world out there ready to axe them. How to get out of it And Dangerfield. And Miss Frost.

"I am going to call you Lilly"

A shy smile tightened upon her lips, her eyes turning away and back and tight lips and the edge of her teeth coming to nip her mouth and her face up to face his.

"O."

"I think it's time I called you Lilly. Lilly"

"O well."

"Lilly"

"Dear me"

"Are there eats, Lilly?"

"Just some bacon and tea but take that ten shilling note, Mr. Dangerfield, and get some eggs."

"No. I couldn't."

"Do. Please. I insist"

Dangerfield to the dresser. Slipping the note in a pocket

"Won't be a minute."

Yet I stoop to menial things. But there just hasn't been enough money. However, in the flux. Keep one's eyes wide and never know when or what might come up. Live off the environment Take fruit from my trees. Fine shirts from counters and charge them. Ton of turf from my fuel merchant and bill me later. Take one large turkey, rat trap and rare cheese, pound of Robert's best coffee and bit of salami, oh and a quick quart of sauerkraut and would you mind frightfully putting it on my account Air filled with certainly sir. O it was good. Creamery butter? How many pounds sir? I think the three. Rashers? A nice bit of back please. A ton if you will. Picture me walking up Grafton Street. I am passing Mitchell's Cafe and the doorway where I have always looked carefully to see aristocratic faces poised out of necks of flowery, sweet-smelling dresses and looked at their noses and rather lovely nostrils, racehorses for sure and eyes sparking with vitamins always hoping one would smile at me. And one speaks. O Sebastian wherever have you been? What? Not really. You mean you're hungry. Ghastly. O you're joking. Shocking. But do come and have tea with me. Of course I'm paying. Whatever are you wearing? That thing. Yes, that thing. My God, it's a blanket. Rakish. Only thing I can think of. Frightfully LA.F. I mean it's sort of R.A.F. sort of thing. I.A.F. ? Irish Air Force, of course, stupid. Do come and have tea. O no, wear it I like it Suits you. Frightfully exciting. You do some rather weird things, everyone says so. And there I am with this girl, by the window upstairs. She's paying. Me under my brown blanket Brown for lust. Eating my cake she bought for me. Eat one. Steal two. Eat one. Steal another. After tea. I go to the lavatory and flush my blanket in the toilet I take a cardboard sign and fashion it in a stiff collar. Use my black shoelace. Black for private means. I return wearing this and nothing else. You might say making an obvious gesture of indecency. But fed.

And tonight I go in and buy eggs. And Miss Frost, my lily and Lilly, wherever will you go? I've not wanted to cause you pain but to understand, be with you and give you love. And we got our bodies mixed up on the bed and one night I wore your pajamas. Green suits me I think.

"A dozen of the very finest please.'
f

I think they are coming along very well in this shop. New counter and glass and I notice a clean fingernail here and there.

Sebastian hurried up the Geary Road and with two acute lefts into his cul-de-sac. Walking towards a wall. Searching on the green gate for latches. What did these neighbors do? Light on in that house. What were they doing with their bodies? Toasting in front of the last coals. Tomorrow I go bye bye. O'Keefe on the high seas. And Miss Frost, I see a peak of light coming round your curtain. Bad for security but it'll do for this last day. Only hours left. I'm coming in the house to hold your hand and spend my last night with you. I want to take you with me but I can't. Would you be willing to put your shoulder to the big wheel? Push. I'll show you how. You've been good to me like none of the others and kept me company in this last loneliness, might have gone quite mad were it not for your body and sweet smiles and breasts. Saved me. Even the little secret smells in the pits of your arms. Like bears in winter lairs. Nuzzling the short hairs.

He walked around the side of the house. Looking at the laurels. Dark round here. Get this light on. Miss Frost keeps a clean kitchen. Into her room.

"Please don't get up, Lilly, leave this to me."

"Let me. You're tired. It's no trouble at all, Mr. Danger-field."

"On this last night, Lilly, do call me Sebastian."

"I just can't. Don't make me, but come sit down. I'll make it. You have such a long journey ahead."

"Aye. It's very good of you. May I look in your book, Lilly?"

"It's one of those awful things."

"Lilly I'm terribly chilled, that walk I think has given me a little a-choo, my nose is stuffed. I wonder could I just get into your nice warm bed here ? "

"But we really shouldn't anymore."

"Just till I get my teeth into the rashers and eggs."

"You have an awful way with you, Mr. Dangerfield."

"It's your hot water bottle, I just can't keep away from it."

She left him sitting on his chair. And he took his garments off. Shoes neatly beside the bed. Winds outside. Keep telling myself they are temperate, moist and warm. Spend my life huddled over a weather map. Guest in Lilly's cozy bed. Pretty name. What made me do it? Call her white and pure. Virgin. Driven snow. And I'm sneaking between these sheets, deep down after the bottle, catch it, hook it, pull it up here near my balls and wait for her. When I'm in London I think I'll join the Trinity College Dining Club. I read the soothing words which said the Dining Club exists to promote mutual intercourse and good fellowship among T.C.D. men, to provide an opportunity for renewing old friendships and keep Trinity men in touch with the life of the University. I keep telling myself that I'm one of you because I never want to lose faith. Something to hang on to. And I'll come along in the evenings and sit with you. I will be reserved and listen. To those things dear to me. I hope it's raining. And step out of my carriage, suck down a few lungs of fat fog. Wearing my Trinity tie. What a handsome tie it is. Most illustrious of all. I say, Trinity? Why yes. You? Yes. Forty-eight. Forty-six and any other year you want to name. How do you do, I'm Dangerfield. Jolly good show, this. Quite. In fact, bung, frightfully ho. Will there be chandeliers? Chicken? Sprouts? Fire? And will this be what I want? Please.

Lilly came in with tea. The long red strips across the plate and the two yolks glistening. And buttered bread. A light green napkin. She puts it down.

"Lilly."

"O you'll make me spill it."

"Just a little one. On the lips. There."

"It'll scald you if I drop it."

Just my cup of tea. You are.

"Lilly, this is very good of you. I need this, this warmth and food. I sometimes wonder if there is an island a little smaller than this one where we could go."

"It would be nice."

"Lilly, you've been packing your bags."

"Yes."

"This is all a pitiful life. I want to settle somewhere. Stay there for good. Fm sick of moving. We must have somewhere to call our own. Lilly. I think that's what we all need and stop this moving."

"My aunt said she would do with me till I got other digs."

"What's your aunt like?"

"She has a studio out in the back of the house where she paints these models in the nude. I posed for her once and felt awful."

"Why?"

"The way she looked at me."

"Lust?"

"Yes."

"It's everywhere. Lilly. Everywhere. I don't see how it can be stopped. It'll never get you anywhere save to bed."

"O Mr. Dangerfield, you go on."

"I hate to leave you. I feel it's unfair."

"You don't have to worry about me, Mr. Dangerfield. I'll take care of myself."

"But I want to know that you're going to be all right."

"What about Mrs. Dangerfield? I know it's none of my business but I felt you were so right for one another."

"Little confusion. I don't think there was enough of the money. Mrs. Dangerfield thought I was rotten rich. I think there is a considerable fortune somewhere but it's a little tied up. But I've got plans."

"I'd like to get married."

"Be careful. Want to watch these Irishmen."

"Not one of those. I'd like an Indian."

"An American one? Like me. Did you know Fm part Mohawk? Woo hoo."

"It's been a great experience knowing you. Mr. Danger-field. even though I don't agree with all the things you say.

But inside I think you are a good person."

"Lilly."

"I mean it."

"Come here."

"But I've made an oath not to, again. Please. No"

"There is no harm"

"Just on the cheek, because I can't stop you once you get going"

"There's no harm, Lilly"

"Mind, you'll knock everything over. Don't"

"Come lay beside me then. This little kiss on your ear will never hurt. Just the one. Lilly, you're wearing perfume."

"I beg of you, Mr. Dangerfield, please don't make me feel awful."

"I want you to come and see me in London. Will you?"

"We should never see each other again. And what's to become of the house, Mr. Dangerfield?"

"I've made arrangements. Come closer now. This is our last night together. This is great tea."

"There are a lot of letters for you."

"I'll take care of those too. Now let's not bother about these things, you just get cozy in here and never mind about the rest. Everything's taken care of."

"Mr. Dangerfield do you like me even just a little."

"I like you, Lilly. You've been good to me. A comfort Take my hand. There now. Easy. All's going to be all right I haven't felt as good for some time."

Miss Frost in her green pajamas. I put the orange egg yolk over my bread and ate it up. I think this is near it now. As near as ever could be. Peace. Sacred silence. On the move or run, just as you wish, tomorrow. Perhaps Skully will try something a little too clever for himself and get tripped on the secret wires I'm organizing on my trail. I don't want to be caught by anybody. Nor imprisoned or put down. In England they put a rope around the neck and let you go, whoops. Just across the channel they hoist that thing, shined and sharpened and tell you lay your sylph-like thing in there. I don't know why I'm so terrified by this capital punishment because I feel I'm a gentleman and live by all the rules and regulations any of you have put down and even a special few of my very own. O watch the noose and knots and knives. And these doctors too. Once you let them get in these white coats and hold you by the wrist they want to tap you on the chest Then they want to see in the mouth. Later they put you on a table and go to the cabinet for the knife. They say they just want a peek inside.

Lilly, I never get tired of your white thirty four year old bubas, buns or beauties. Or will I ever get over how much I like to imagine them under that green pajama top. Rare that I ever make these dogmatic statements but I cannot help feeling that when other things are gone that carnal knowledge is here to stay. I guess with me it has been a case pure and simple of a little frightened man looking out and seeing all the prowling animals. I've had other women. Lilly. Kissed them in bed with me. And a girl who lives by the Bleeding Horse, another body rich with tender muscles and nuzzling in the sparkling curly hair. Take juice and comfort from my thighs. And walked and talked to her along the edges of the canal where I heard once years ago, the coach was coming up from the South laden with people and it fell from the bridge into the canal and they thought like good Irishmen and engineers they ought to float them out and opened up the sluice gates and drowned the whole lot of them. The canal is a favorite place of mine for this reason and others. And this girl too was kind to me. There is no use otherwise. Kindness. And you came into my life for this collusion, boarder bedded down with the landlord. Common sort of thing these days but different with us because we were both in need. And the little talks we had. I told you about the journey of the exposed penis. You laughed. O those things are funny now but I was fit to be tied on that Tuesday. It was your willingness and interest which bound me captive, Lilly, to your body and nice teas we've had. I can coin the odd phrase with the best of them. But I'd rather keep that part of me secret Like the entangled laws of this church of yours. But I know a bit about law and the ones they call Canon. I even went into Brown and Nolans and got the book, stood three hours at the counter reading to the assistants' utter concern because Fm sure they must have noticed that I was wearing the remnants of a chasuble under my mackintosh and these laws were so interesting. I felt I was poking through sin and limbo. Lilly I've heard you whisper when in the throes, holy mother of God, they will never forgive me. But of course they will, you succulent, tender chicken and gorgeous creature to boot.

With the light off and B.B.C. closed down for the night Tiny sounds outside. And warnings of gales in Malin, Rock-all, Shannon, Fastnet and Irish Sea. Rain beating against the window panes. Laurel leaves shaking crazily. And our green curtain swelling out and a light slicing the room. Out there on the water. I think it's my grave. The Isle of Man, Dalkey Sound and harbors of Bullock and Colimore, a hundred and twenty miles to Liverpool. Let us hold tight, Lilly. And give up this right and wrong. And you tell me, Mr. Dangerfield, if they ever hear of it and it's not as easy as that just to be forgiven because they make you confess it all and as soon as you let on to something they start asking questions was it alone and about marriage and did he? Between your legs, my child. And what other departures were there and did he do that too. Yes. He did. Lilly I will make all this suffering up to you. I am no cheap chicken myself. Corporation law and fixing treaties between nations should pull a lot of weight up there. I'll tell him, Mr. Jesus, I knew Lilly and if you knew Lilly as I know Lilly. Well. You wouldn't have minded having a bit yourself, now would you? Not at all. Jesus and I have been through a great deal together. And I tell you Lilly, he would roar with laughter and say, why my dear child you laid with the ginger man? Great. Don't worry about it. What's a piece of arse between friends so long's you both get a good chunk. Got a few of these self-centered people down there, efficient but finicky who don't get much themselves who try to put the lid on lads like Dangerfield. I know Dangerfield. His whole life. Oceans of integrity and puddles of dependability. By God, myself, as great a man as ever I did split from a rib or even make with the fishes on whatever day I made them. Like him up here with me. When you're dead Danger, They say you've never been beaten in chess, dominoes or croquet or for being right when the others say you're wrong. And to use one of Dangerfield's rather amusing phrases, I'm no cheap chicken meself.

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