Читаем Fall and Rise полностью

“You can’t. You have to keep the driver talking so he doesn’t fall asleep at the wheel.”

“Then let’s talk about something interesting. But you start, I can’t. But let’s see if we can talk about only one thing till I get home that keeps us unwinkingly stimulated and our minds unmoronically — oh my God, that man!”

“Where, what? Don’t startle me like that. You’ll run us off the road.”

“But that man we just passed. On crutches — I think being robbed.” I look back. “It still seems the younger one’s going through the pockets of the older man. Turn around, go back.”

“Come on, you couldn’t have seen all that so fast.”

“But I’m still watching it — now no more — too far back. Slow down and make a U at the next left.” He slows down but passes that left. “Peter, we can’t drive by knowing someone’s—”

“And I’m saying, if you did see something, you don’t want to get involved in a possible dangerous robbery. Because suppose we go back — then what?”

“We can get near enough to see if he is being robbed, and if he is, we can drive past slowly and honk and wave our fists. If the man’s already been robbed and the robber’s gone, we can drive him to a police station or stay with him till a police car comes. If he hasn’t been robbed, I want to find that out by asking him so I know I didn’t drive past anyone being robbed. And if it’s only what I think is the robber who’s there, then we’ll quietly drive past.”

“All right. Okay.” He makes a U-turn at the next left and slows down at the first red light.

“Don’t stop. No car’s coming, go through.”

“And if a cop—”

“All the better. That’s who I’m looking for now.”

He goes through the light. “I hate going through red lights.” The older man’s leaning against a lamppost, two canes, not two crutches, at his feet. We stop, I roll down my window, “Excuse me, but were you just robbed?”

“You undercover? If you are—”

“We’re not. We thought—”

“Still, he ran up that sidestreet and you can still catch him but you’ll have to go against a one-way.”

“We don’t want to try to — either thing — and get hurt. We saw you from the uptown side and thought we could help with a honk and shout if he was still here, or help you in any way. You’re not hurt? Did he get anything?”

“My wallet. Fifteen dollars. That’s what you have to carry on you today in case you get robbed. My watch two other punks took last year, so I don’t wear the new one when I’m out.”

“What are you doing out alone so late?” Peter says. “This neighborhood’s deserted.”

“I like to walk. If I get that itch, I take it. There are just so many directions to go. Last night I went the other. But I don’t go far. My place is two blocks down.”

“Can we do anything?” I say. “Take you to a police station or wait with you till a patrol car passes?”

“It’s not worth it. Fill out a report, nothing happens. If I made a bundle it might be worth having that report as proof for a big loss on my taxes. I’ll go home.”

“We’ll drive you.”

“I don’t want to drive him,” Peter says.

“We have to. We came this far, let’s see it through.”

“No thanks,” the man says. “I can’t get hit twice in one night ten minutes apart. It doesn’t happen.”

“It’s disgraceful, someone stealing from anyone — but from you? I wish we’d stopped sooner.”

“Good thing you didn’t. He came out of nowhere, didn’t look playful, might have panicked and done something to me worse. Thanks,” and he picks up his canes and starts downtown.

“Some night,” Peter says, passing the man and signaling a left.

“Wait, back up to him.”

“What now?”

“Just back up — Mister, stop!” I open my bag. “I only have ten dollars,” I say to Peter. “Loan me a five.”

“Ten’s enough.”

“Please, I’m only borrowing it. You’ve nothing smaller than a ten, I’ll give you one of my fives.”

He gives me a five. “On me, no loan.”

“Here,” I say to the man. “Don’t ask questions. You went through too much tonight, you don’t want to be stopped by anyone without your fifteen, and we’ve plenty.” He takes the money. “Now can we drive you home?”

“I’ll make it.”

Peter drives off, makes the U. “That was very nice. I think a little excessive, but okay — nice.”

“As if it isn’t bad enough for him, and then to get robbed? But maybe I shouldn’t have said it to him like that.”

“How?”

‘“Disgraceful for someone to steal from you.’ But to be so deformed? Did you see the way he walked?”

“Saw.”

“It’s got to be so painful. Going every step like that. I’m not talking of only the threat of being robbed, but just getting up and down curbs and I’m sure falling every so often because of the canes in the street cracks and so on. And if you’re out of bread and want a loaf — what a chore.”

“He goes out nightly, so maybe he’s more mobile and not in as much pain as we think. But look at it this way. If you have an affliction like his you have to make adjustments and other arrangements. That’s what you have to do in life; that’s what everyone has to do.”