Читаем Fall and Rise полностью

I nod and smile, think Poor guy, and head for the ladies’ room. It’s at the entrance to this room and I have to walk around the dance floor to get to it. A man grabs my hand and says “Show me how to jitterbug. You look like you know how to do a great jitterbug.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t.”

“You’re the best lady, be my best lady. You’ve got to be good if you’re Dorothy’s best, since she’s the best, so be good to me. Don’t be annoyed with what I say. I’m smashed, best lady.”

“Thank you. I’m a bit smashed too. Now please let me go.”

“Jitterbug one solitary jitterbug step with me first.”

“Leave her go, Teddy,” the woman he was standing with says.

“When she jitterbugs one solitary step with me.”

“I don’t know how to jitterbug,” I say to her. “Really, Teddy, I don’t.”

“I’ll show you.” He puts his arm around my waist, continues to hold my right hand with his left and walks me forward, walks me back, quickly switches hands and flicks his right leg around his left and faces me again.

“There, I did what you said, now let me go.”

“We have to do it once the same way from the other side.”

“Not fair,” Lon says, dancing by.

“It was an accident.”

“No accident,” Teddy says. “The best man gets the best lady wherever he goes, always.”

“Sven’s brother was the best man,” I say.

“So I’m Sven’s oldest cousin on both sides, so that’s why I’m here and who gets the best lady.”

“Leave her alone, Teddy,” the woman says. “Can’t you see you’re too old for this girl and a disgrace?”

“God,” I say, “is this what happens when everybody gets drunk? What have I been missing?”

“Me, sweetheart. Marry me tonight, best lady. My wife won’t mind.”

“No, I won’t mind,” she says, “but I don’t think she wants to. Leave her go Teddy. I’m sure you’re hurting her.”

“Release me, sir,” I say commandingly.

“By your leave, best lady.” He lets go, gets down on his knees, cups my shoe between his hands and kisses the tip of it.

“Ouch,” I say. “Really, get up, this is terrible.”

“What’s happening?” Arthur says. “Make another conquest? You’re too unbelievable. Still want to meet at the food table? You don’t, my turn to understand.”

“I want to go to the bathroom, Arthur. Lead me there?”

I put out my hand. Teddy jumps up and takes it and whispers into my ear “I’ll ball you silly, you whore, just give me half the chance,” and I say to him “You son of a bitch. Go shit in your hat,” and stick my nails into his hand and he jerks it away. I walk to the ladies’ room.

“What the hell was that about?” Arthur says.

“Where’s that man now?”

“Still where you left him, staring at you and not too nicely, and showing a woman his hand. What he say? Should I have done something?”

“What a schmuck. And violent? That bastard hurt my hand. Ah: Ladies’.”

“Want me to wait outside?”

“No thanks.” I go inside, go into one of the stalls, put paper down in case I happen to graze the seat, squat above it and let go. Where’s it coming from? Usually I’m so regular. Once in the morning after exercises and that’s it for the day. Must be the food. The drink — what am I thinking of, the food? Maybe it’ll make me feel better. I stand up, wipe myself, get a sharp stomach pain and squat above the seat and more comes, worse than before. This is going to make my anus hurt. I stay that way for a minute. Then my thighs can’t take any more and I rearrange the papers so they’re all in place and sit. Smell is awful. I flush the toilet but don’t get up. Someone comes in. Sorry, ladies, who from the sounds of their handbags opening, apparently came in to fix their faces and hair.

“It smells like a pig factory in here,” one says.

“Wasn’t me,” another woman says.

“I wasn’t saying that. I know what it was.”

“It’s from one of the closets,” second one says much lower.

“It’s me and I apologize,” I say, “but I’m not feeling too well. Believe me, it doesn’t smell any better in here!”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know anyone was still in there,” the first one says. “I should have, by your door. You have any perfume on you?”

“I left my bag at my table. Brilliant. It’ll probably get stolen.”

“I have some,” she says. “I’ll spread it around,” and I suppose she sprinkles toilet water in the air, because I begin smelling it. “Also, flush your johnny.”

“I did.”

“Flush it again and again if it’s not too uncomfortable for your rear end. Just getting the new water around freshens up the area and it also assures the stuff of going all the way to the sewer and the smell of it from backing up.”

I raise myself off the seat a little and flush twice.

“That isn’t Ginny Scoletti in there, is it?” the second one says.

“No,” I say.

“There was someone by that name suddenly missing from the next table and people were worried, that’s why I asked.”

“No.”

“You from the Tallin bar mitzvah?”

“The Nustermann-Baker wedding. Please, if you don’t mind I’d prefer being anonymous right now, and silent. My stomach.”

“By all means,” the first one says. “But you’re not throwing up also?”

“No, it’s only from one end. Excuse me, I’m going to be silent.”