Part 4 (2/2)

Peter nodded, his attention already wandering, his eyes on the crowd.

George sensed his inattentiveness, but he didn't know just how to broach what he wanted to say. At last he blurted it out. ”Mr. Kessler, I would like for to open a ice-cream parlor here.”

Peter's attention came back to George with a snap. ”An ice-cream parlor here?” he queried. ”What for?”

George was embarra.s.sed. His face turned red. His inadequate English became even more unintelligible. ”These p.o.o.puls,” he stammered, ”good for business. Ice cream, candies, fruits, nuts.”

Peter stopped smiling; he suddenly understood what George meant. His voice became serious. ”It's a good idea, George, but where can we put it? There isn't enough room.”

Magically George found the words for what he wanted to say. He spoke quickly, easily. He explained to Peter how little room they would need for it. But what clinched the argument was his offer to pay rent plus a share of the profits.

While business at the nickelodeon was good, it was not without its problems. Under Peter's agreement with Graphic he was given a new show every three weeks. This was all right until they had begun giving three shows a day. Then it seemed that the first week of the show everybody in the section would see it and business would fall off greatly in the following two weeks. He had spoken to Johnny about it and they had agreed to ask Joe Turner on his next trip up if there was anything that could be done about it.

About two weeks after George had opened his little stand, Joe came up on his regular monthly visit. He stood in the small lobby watching George and his brother move busily behind the counter. After a while he went into the nickelodeon and spoke to Johnny.

The afternoon show had just finished and Johnny was rewinding the film for the next show.

”Whose idea was that?” Joe asked him.

”Peter's,” Johnny answered. ”What do you think of it?”

Joe nodded his head approvingly. ”It's a good 'un,” he said. ”Makes me feel the idea will catch on in town when I tell 'em about it.”

Johnny finished rewinding and set the reel in place so that it would be ready to run off for the next show. He clambered down from the little platform on which the projector stood. ”C'mon out and have a Moxie,” he invited Joe.

They walked out to the stand and ordered their drinks. Johnny introduced him to George and his brother. For a moment they sipped their drink reflectively, then Johnny spoke. ”Haven't you got any other films? People are getting tired of the same show for three weeks straight.”

Joe shook his head. ”There isn't much to be had, but we just got a new one-reeler that we can send you.”

”What the h.e.l.l good is one reel when we need a whole show?” Johnny asked.

Joe looked at him for a moment before he answered. ”I got something that might help you out, but it's gotta be kept quiet.”

”You know me, Joe. I'm like a clam when I gotta be.”

Joe smiled at Johnny's expression. ”I guess yuh heard about the big companies gettin' together to form a combine and control the picture business.”

”Yeah.”

”Well, I guess yuh know one of the reasons for that is because a lot of small producers are makin' pictures an' cuttin' into their time. They want you exhibitors to play their kind of show, which is a short one, and they want to make sure that you get your pictures from them, so they combine. That way they control all the picture patents between 'em and n.o.body can make pictures but them.”

”So what?” Johnny asked. ”I still don't see how we're gonna get more pictures.”

”I'm gettin' tuh that,” Joe said. ”Graphic's joinin' the combine an' I'm leaving them to go with one of the independents who plans to make enough pictures for a new show every week.”

”Sounds good,” Johnny said, ”but where do we come in?” He sipped some Moxie up through his straw. ”According to our agreement we can only show Graphic pictures.”

”A lot of exhibitors figure what the combine won't know won't hurt 'em.” Joe replied. ”Look-you got to take their pictures for three weeks, but you don't have to play them for three weeks if you can't do business with them.”

”I see,” Johnny said, finis.h.i.+ng his drink. ”Let's go in and see Peter about it.”

On their way into the hardware store Joe told Johnny all he had to do to get the film was to go down to New York and sign a rental agreement.

”Who's this guy you're goin' to work for?” Johnny asked.

”Bill Borden,” Joe answered. ”He's the biggest independent in the field.”

”What you gonna do?” Johnny lit a cigarette. ”Sell pictures for him?”

Joe shook his head. ”Nope. I'm through with that. I'm gonna make the pictures. I tole Borden that what he needed was a man who knew what the exhibitors wanted, and since I knew what the exhibitors wanted, I was the man he needed.”

Johnny laughed. ”You haven't changed a bit since we worked carny. You could still shoot the bull with the best of them.”

Joe joined in Johnny's laugh. ”But seriously, kid, it's gonna be a great racket some day. I'd like to see you get in it.”

5.

Johnny stopped with his hand on the doork.n.o.b. He could hear Esther's voice through it. She was talking to Peter.

”Nu?” she was saying. ”Aren't you getting dressed yet? Doris and Mark you were going to take to the park today.”

Johnny grinned to himself in the hall. He heard Peter's voice indistinctly as he replied to his wife, but he couldn't understand the words. Its tone was lazy and grumbling. Johnny grinned again. It was Sunday and he knew that Peter liked to spend the morning with his feet on a ha.s.sock reading the papers. He turned the k.n.o.b and walked into the kitchen.

Esther looked at him in surprise and then at the clock. ”You're up early, Johnny,” she said. There was a big pot bubbling on the stove behind her.

He smiled at her. ”I'll only be a minute, I just wanted to ask Peter if he wanted me to pick up anything for him in New York.”

”You're going to New York today?” she asked.

He nodded. She seemed a little peeved. He wondered what it was.

Peter came to the door of the kitchen and looked in on them. ”You're going to New York?” he echoed Esther's words.

”Yeah,” Johnny answered laconically. He looked at Peter. Peter was in his s.h.i.+rtsleeves, the belt on his trousers loosened comfortably. Peter had put on a little weight lately, he thought. Well, why shouldn't he? Things were going pretty good.

”What for?” Peter asked.

”I promised Joe I'd be down to see him and look over some of the new pictures,” he replied. ”I'll be back tomorrow in time for the evening show.”

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