Part 15 (2/2)

”Well,” he said slowly, ”I guess that's the finish.”

”The h.e.l.l you say,” Johnny came back at him. ”There are other actors just as good as he is.”

Peter looked at him. ”Do you think they'll take a chance with us after the experience he had? Even if we had the money, which we haven't?” He spoke with irrefutable logic.

Johnny had no answer. Joe turned up a red queen and put it on a black jack.

”We might as well face it,” Peter said heavily. ”We're licked.” He held up a hand to still Johnny's protest. ”Don't tell me any different. You know it too. We tried everything and it didn't work, so we might as well close up shop.”

Joe took a vicious swipe at the cards. They scattered into the air and fluttered to the floor. His lips were moving with silent curses.

Johnny said nothing. He couldn't speak even if he wanted to, his throat was all knotted up.

Peter stood up wearily. ”I don't know how I'm going to pay you boys back your money.”

Johnny found his voice. ”You don't owe me nothing.”

Joe followed right along. ”Me neither,” he growled.

Peter looked at them steadily for a few seconds. There was a suspicious moisture in his eyes. He stepped toward Joe and held out his hand. He gripped Joe's hand silently, then he turned to Johnny.

Johnny held out his hand. For some strange reason he couldn't keep it steady. It kept shaking.

Peter took it and held it tightly. They looked into each other's eyes for a moment. Then Peter clasped Johnny to him. Tears were running freely from his eyes now.

”You Americans!” Peter said. ”What can you say with a handshake?”

Johnny couldn't speak.

”Johnny, Johnny, my boy, don't blame yourself. It's not your fault. You tried harder than any of us.”

”I'm sorry, Peter, I'm sorry.”

Peter held him at arm's length and looked at him. ”Don't give up, Johnny. This is your business. You were meant for it. It's not for old men like me. You'll do great things with it.”

”We'll do great things, Peter.”

Peter shook his head. ”Not me. I'm through.” His hands fell to his sides. ”Well, I guess I'll be going home.” He walked slowly to the door. At the door he turned back and looked at them. He took a half look around the office and tried to smile. He couldn't. He made a helpless little gesture with his hand and shut the door behind him.

For a few seconds there was silence in the room. Joe was the first to speak. His voice was strained and cracked. ”I think I'll go out and get drunk.”

Johnny looked at him strangely. ”That's the first good idea we had all summer!”

9.

The bartender looked at them threateningly. He held the two drinks in his hand close to him on the bar. ”That will be seventy cents, gentlemen.” His pleasant voice belied his appearance, but his grasp on the gla.s.ses indicated the firmness with which he was prepared to deal with the situation.

Johnny looked over at Joe. He didn't know whether he was weaving or Joe. He wished that Joe would weave in the same way he did. Maybe he wouldn't be so dizzy that way.

”The man ins.h.i.+sts on cash,” he said.

Joe nodded his head solemnly. ”I heard him. Pay him.”

”Shure.” Johnny stuck his hand in his pockets and came up with some coins. Laboriously he laid them on the bar and counted them. ”s.h.i.+xty five, sheventy,” he crowed happily. ”Give ush our drinksh.”

The bartender looked at the change and pushed the drinks toward them. He picked up the change and rung it up on the register.

Before the sound of the bell had faded away, Joe was pounding on the bar. ”Shet up two more,” he said.

The bartender looked at him. ”Cash in advance.”

Joe drew himself up indignantly. ”Shee here, my good man,” he said solemnly, ”I was polite enough when you spoke to my frien' like that. But when you talk to me, thash something differn'. I am a shteady cushtomer. He ish not ash mush a drinker ash me, therefore when I order drinksh, I egshpect drinksh.”

The bartender nodded to a man standing down at the end of the bar. The man came up to them and took them each by the arm. ”Come along now, boys,” he said quietly.

Joe shook himself loose. ”Take your hands off me.”

The man ignored him. Instead he put both hands on Johnny's back and pushed him out the door, then he turned back to Joe and rolled up a sleeve. ”Are yuh leavin'?”

Joe looked at him disdainfully. ”Of coursh I'm leavin'. Did you think I would care to shtay after sush a dishplay of inhoshpitably?” He weaved his way to the door.

At the door he turned and held his fingers up to his mouth and made a vulgar sound at the man. The man made a gesture toward him. Joe ducked quickly out of the door, missed the step down, and fell sprawling.

Johnny helped him to his feet. ”Did they throw you out, Joe?”

Joe leaned on him. ”Of coursh not. They know better than to try and throw Joe Turner out. I jusht mished the shtep, thash all.”

They leaned against the corner of the building. ”Where'll we go now?” Johnny asked.

Joe looked at him, trying to clear his head. ”What time ish it?”

Johnny took his watch out of his pocket and tried to focus his eyes upon it. ”Twelve o'clock,” he said. He turned and tried to put his arm around Joe. ”Joe, it'sh midnight!”

Joe pushed him away. ”Don't kish me. You shtink from whishky.”

Johnny drew back, hurt. ”All ri', Joe, but I like you anyway.”

”Yuh got any money?” Joe asked.

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