Part 17 (1/2)

”Nancy had a little trouble figuring it out, too,” said Eddie, without a trace of resentment.

”She finally got the drift?” said Red.

”She got it, about as well as an eight-year-old could,” said Eddie. He sat down on the stool next to Red's, and set his bag on the counter, next to the letters. He showed mild surprise at the handwriting of the letters, and made no effort to hide his surprise from Red. ”Coffee, please, Slim,” he said.

”Maybe you'd rather have this private,” said Red. He was a little disconcerted by Eddie's equanimity. He'd remembered Eddie as a homely clown.

”Makes no difference,” said Eddie. ”It's all before G.o.d, wherever we do it.”

The straightforward inclusion of G.o.d in the meeting was also unexpected by Red. In his daydreams in his hospital bed, the resounding lines had all been his-irrefutable lines dealing with man's rights to the love of his own flesh and blood. Red felt the necessity of puffing himself up, of dramatizing his advantages in bulk and stature. ”First of all,” he said importantly, ”I wanna say I don't care what the law has to say about this. This is bigger than that.”

”Good,” said Eddie. ”Then we agree first of all. I'd hoped we would.”

”So's we won't be talking about two different things,” said Red, ”lemme say right out that I'm the father of that kid-not you.”

Eddie stirred his coffee with a steady hand. ”We'll be talking about exactly the same thing,” he said.

Slim and the three others looked out the windows desperately.

Around and around and around went Eddie's spoon in his coffee. ”Go on,” he said happily.

Red was rattled. Things were going faster than he had expected-and, at the same time, they were seemingly going nowhere. He'd pa.s.sed the climax of what he'd come home to say, and nothing had changed-and nothing seemed about to change. ”Everybody's gone right along with you, pretending she was your kid,” he said indignantly.

”They've been good neighbors,” said Eddie.

Red's mind was now a mare's nest of lines he hadn't used yet, lines that now didn't seem to fit anywhere. ”I'm willing to take a blood test, to find out who's her father,” he said. ”Are you?”

”Do we all have to bleed, before we can believe each other?” said Eddie. ”I told you I agreed with you. You are her father. Everybody knows that. How could they miss it?”

”Did she tell you I'd lost a leg?” said Red hectically.

”Yes,” said Eddie. ”That impressed her more than anything. That's what would would impress an eight-year-old the most.” impress an eight-year-old the most.”

Red looked at his own reflection in the coffee urn and saw that his eyes were watery, his face bright pink. His reflection a.s.sured him that he'd spoken well-that he was being trifled with. ”Eddie-that kid is mine, and I want her.”

”I'm sorry for you, Red,” said Eddie, ”but you can't have her.” For the first time, his hand trembled, making his spoon click against the side of his cup. ”I think you'd better go away.”

”You think this is a little thing?” said Red. ”You think a man can back away from something like this like it was nothing-back away from his own kid, and just forget it?”

”Not being a father myself,” said Eddie, ”I can only guess at what you're going through.”

”Is that a joke?” said Red.

”Not to me,” said Eddie evenly.

”This is some smart way of saying you're more her old man that I am?” said Red.

”If I haven't said it, I will say it,” said Eddie. His hand shook so uncontrollably that he was obliged to set his spoon down, to grip the counter's edge.

Red saw now how frightened Eddie was, saw how phony his poise and G.o.dliness were. Red felt his own strength growing, felt the flow of booming good health and righteousness he'd daydreamed of. He was suddenly in charge, with plenty to say, and plenty of time in which to say it.

It angered him that Eddie had tried to bluff and confuse him, had nearly succeeded. And on the crest of the anger rode all Red's hate for the cold and empty world. His whole will was now devoted to squas.h.i.+ng the little man beside him.

”That's Violet's and my kid,” said Red. ”She never loved you.”

”I hope she did,” said Eddie humbly.

”She married you because she figured I wasn't ever coming back!” said Red. He picked up a letter from the top of the packet and waved it under Eddie's nose. ”She told me so-just like that-in so many words.”

Eddie refused to look at the letter. ”That was a long time ago, Red. A lot can happen.”

”I'll tell you one thing that didn't happen,” said Red, ”she never stopped writing, never stopped begging me to come back.”

”I guess those things go on for a while,” said Eddie softly.

”A while?” while?” said Red. He riffled through the letters, and dropped one before Eddie. ”Look at the date on that one, would you? Just look at the date on said Red. He riffled through the letters, and dropped one before Eddie. ”Look at the date on that one, would you? Just look at the date on that.” that.”

”I don't want to,” said Eddie. He stood.

”You're afraid,” said Red.

”That's right,” said Eddie. He closed his eyes. ”Go away, Red. Please go away.”

”Sorry, Eddie,” said Red, ”but nothing's gonna make me go away. Red's home.”

”G.o.d pity you,” said Eddie. He walked to the door.

”You forgot your little paper bag,” said Red. His feet danced.

”That's yours,” said Eddie. ”Nancy sent it. It was her idea, not mine. G.o.d knows I would have stopped her if I'd known.” He was crying.

He left, and crossed the bridge in the gathering darkness.

Slim and the other three customers had turned to stone.

”My G.o.d!” Red cried at them. ”My own flesh and blood! It's the deepest thing there is! What could ever make me leave?”

No one answered.

A terrible depression settled over Red, the aftermath of battle. He sucked the back of his hand, as though nursing a wound. ”Slim,” he said, ”what's in that bag?”

Slim opened the bag and looked inside. ”Hair, Red,” he said. ”Red hair.”

LITTLE DROPS.

OF WATER.

Now Larry's gone.