Part 12 (1/2)

I sat down on the couch and gestured to Sylvan to lie down. He stretched out and put his head in my lap. I stroked his hair. It was damp with perspiration.

”Forget it,” I said. ”You had no idea this would happen. You're the one I'm worried about.”

”Don't worry about me. I admit that a hundred dollars is a lot for me to throw away that way. My salary isn't all that big. But the hundred isn't going to break me.”

”It isn't just the money. Sylvan, do you have to go after these casual pick-ups?”

”Use the Y.M.C.A. method, you mean? Cold showers and volleyball? That sublimation idea is no solution.”

”Yes, I know,” I said. 'There just is no subst.i.tute for the embrace of another human being.”

”Hear! Hear!” Allison said as she came into the room. She set down the tray she was carrying and placed the cups of coffee within our reach.

”We were just discussing Sylvan's problems concerning meeting a better type of man,” I told Allison.

She giggled. ”I'm sorry, I couldn't help laughing. It's just that this reminds me so much of the sort of discussions straight girls are always having among themselves. 'Where can we meet eligible men.' But in this case, I wouldn't advise a trip to Grossinger's.”

”Hardly,” I said. ”It's a real problem. Sylvan can't just keep on picking up trade in bars. Look what happened with Mike. Yet we can't expect him to stay alone all the time.”

”I couldn't stand that,” he said. ”You don't understand. I'll do anything for companions.h.i.+p. I really need that more than s.e.x. But I settle for that because it's easier to come by.”

”I do understand, Sylvan,” Allison's voice was sadly tender. ”I know what it is to be so lonely you'd sell your soul for someone you can really talk to.”

I stared at Allison but she lowered her head and projected complete absorption in her cup of coffee. She refused to look at me.

It hurt to hear Allison say that. Stupid of me but I had taken it for granted that Allison had never experienced the emotional horrors I had. Oh sure, I knew that something must have gone wrong in her childhood. That was implicit in her aberrant s.e.xual preferences. But I had thought that I was the one who needed a wailing wall. I can be terrificly obtuse at times for someone who's supposed to be perceptive. Lots of people are like me. They make the one they love into some sort of near-inhuman symbol of perfection. And ugly things like loneliness don't happen to perfect things.

We talked until nearly dawn without reaching any conclusions. Sylvan just had to keep going to the places where fairly intelligent people congregateda”concerts, adult education cla.s.ses, lectures, etc.a”and hope that someday, somehow he would meet a man who would be both a lover and a friend to him.

Sylvan slept on the couch in the living room that night. It was too late for him to bother going home. He'd just have time to reach his apartment before he'd have to turn around and go to work, anyway. I had a man's white s.h.i.+rt which fitted him so he could go to work without stopping at his place to change.

In addition, I was worried that Mike might be waiting at Sylvan's place. That blockhead was just the type to think that he had some sort of score to settle with Sylvan.

Amy Ferguson came in late in the day after finis.h.i.+ng her show. She looked awful. Things weren't bad enough, she informed us in a tired voice, her husband was giving her a real rough time.

By this time everybody concerned was losing hope for placing her nighttime series. Laurie Nelson's pilot had made a hit and was already scheduled for showing in the fall. Happy was still showing the Ferguson pilot to possible sponsors but word had gotten around that it had been turned down. The suspiciousness of show people was working again. Too many of them were afraid to trust their own judgment. They believed that the show was no good for them because others had felt it didn't suit their purposes.

Amy's husband was in his hey-day. The jealous nogood-nik reminded her constantly of her mistake in selecting the script. He was undermining Amy's confidence in herself. It wouldn't last, Amy just wasn't that shaky about herself. G.o.d knows she had enough reason not to be. Every actress makes a few b.o.o.boos during her career and Amy had kept her percentage low.

Worst of all, he was nagging Amy to get rid of her secretary. He was building up a big case that Chris was exerting too much influence over Amy and that Amy had been better off before she hired her. Amy wouldn't fire Chris. I knew one reason why she wouldn't. Everybody else in the office knew that she wouldn't because Chris was a d.a.m.n good secretary and the best friend Amy ever had. But still, her husband's nagging was getting her down and making her question her relations.h.i.+p with Chris. Every day she had dozens of decisions to make about her shows and personal appearances and now her husband was making her question a facet of her life she had comfortably taken for granted before.

Dave Ferguson didn't know that his wife was in the office at that time. Otherwise he wouldn't have called. But he did and launched into a bombastic exposition of his opinions. Happy just let him talk. Dave finally paused for breath and Happy took the break to jump in.

”Listen to me, you filthy crumb,” Happy roared. ”If you had something to say you should have said it when it counted, before we started filming.”

”But, Happy...”

”No buts. The only thing I have to say to you is that you ought to get down on your knees and thank the Lord that you're married to a wonderful woman like Amy.” He slammed down the phone and turned to Amy for approval.

She was all over him with grat.i.tude. He was the greatest, he was the best agent in the world, he was her truest friend, she didn't know what she'd do without him, she'd never go to another agency.

Happy waited until five minutes after Amy had left the office before calling Dave Ferguson back. I listened in again: Happy: ”Dave? Listen, I'm sorry about the way I sounded off.”

Dave: ”Jesus, what the h.e.l.l got into you?”

Happy: ”Amy was here when you called. I thought you'd realize that from the way I was talking. I had to put on a big act.”

Dave: ”O.k., but I meant what I said before. You know that Amy doesn't know about the dough I took out of our joint account to back the pilot. I did it on your advice. Now we've got to figure out some way to get that money back into the account before Amy finds out about it.”

Happy: ”Don't worry about a thing, Dave boy. I'm working on it. Iall get the money back to you.”

Dave: ”How? You can't get it by cutting down on paper clips. I sank fifteen thousand smackeroos in that bomb.”

Happy: ”What do you care how I get the money as long as I get it? I'll tell you this much: I sank some of my own money into it and you can rest a.s.sured I'll get that back. And yours along with it.”

Dave: ”I should have known I could count on you, doll.”

Happy: ”Sure. Don't forget that the network was underwriting half the costs. A little juggling that they'll never notice and we'll have our investments back. I wouldn't do this for just anybody, you know. The other investors aren't realizing a cent. You know why I'm doing this?”

Dave: ”Sure, I know what I've got to do. Don't worry, love, as long as I have anything to say around the Ferguson house, Amy will stay under contract to you.”

Happy: ”O.k., make sure she does. You know that I could make things pretty hot for you if you fell down on the job, don't you?”

Dave: ”You don't have to remind me.”

Happy: 'That's fine, Dave. One other thing, stop needling Amy about Chris Salem. You're overdoing it.”

Dave: ”That d.y.k.e! It makes me feel creepy to have her around. You know, sometimes I think that Amy thinks more of her than she does of me.”

Happy: ”Tough. My heart bleeds for you. Stop pulling a sensitive bit in your old age. I'm telling you, lay off Chris. She's good people. She keeps Amy happy. Besides, I like her. What the h.e.l.l do you care if she goes for girls?”

Dave: ”I just keep thinking that someday she might make a pa.s.s at Amy.”

Happy: ”Don't worry about it. Amy loves you. She told me so herself today.”

Dave: ”Guess you're right. Well, let's get together soon, sweetheart. We haven't been out together for an evening in a long time.”

”Happy: ”I've been busy.”

Dave: ”Pat?”

Happy: ”Enough to keep her pregnant in the summer and barefoot during the winter. Most of the time I've been making it with Bibi Johnson.”

Dave: ”Bibi Johnson? Va-va-voom!”

Happy: ”You said it, sweetheart.”