Part 40 (2/2)
”Well, don't you-doesn't it bother you to be in the sa with them? With Empire Comics? If they treated you so bad and all?”
”It doesn't bothernear to them To the Escapist And you never know Some of these days I could maybe bother the onto his knees brusquely
”What do you arette, obscuring it in a cloud of set it”
”I hate it when people do that,” said Toarette on the bare ceround it under the toe of his rubber sandal ”To tell the truth, I've never quite figured out just what I' to do I'd like to embarrass them somehow Make that Shelly Anapol look bad Maybe I will dress up as the Escapist andjuure out some way to make it look like I jumped and killed myself” He s myself”
”Could you do that? What if it didn't work and you were, like, smashed flat as a pancake on Thirty-fourth Street?”
”That would certainly embarrass them,” Joe said He patted his chest ”Where did I leave-ah”
That was the ed Joe stepped toward his drawing table to get his pack of Old Golds and tripped over To for the air in front of hi, his forehead, with a loud, disturbingly wooden knock, hit the corner of his drafting table He uttered one broken syllable and then hit the ground, hard To for him to curse or roll over or burst into tears Joe didn't ainst the floor, hands splayed beside him, motionless and silent Torabbed one of his hands It was still war hi There was a small cut on his forehead, beside the pale crescent-h there was only a small amount of blood Joe's chest rose and fell, shallow but steady, and his breath cah his nose He was out cold
”Cousin Joe,” To him a shake ”Hey Wake up Please”
He went into the other rooed washcloth with cool water and carried it back to Joe Gently, he dabbed at the uninjured portion of Joe's forehead Nothing happened He lay the towel on Joe's face and rubbed it vigorously around Still, Joe lay breathing A constellation of concepts that were vague to Toan to trouble him He had no idea what to do for his cousin, how to revive or help hi to bleed o for help, but he had sworn to Joe that he would never reveal his presence to anyone Still, Joe was a tenant of the building, illegal or not His nae kneas here Would they be able or willing to help?
Then Tommy rerade There was a large infiruide had called it-on one of the lower floors There had been a pretty young nurse in white hat and shoes She would knohat to do Tommy stood up and started for the door Then he turned to look back at Joe lying on the floor What would they do, though, once they had revived hied his cut? Would they put hiht? Would they think he was some kind of nut? Was Was he some kind of nut? Would they lock him up in a ”nutbin”? he some kind of nut? Would they lock him up in a ”nutbin”?
To himself to turn it He was paralyzed; he had no idea of what to do And now, for the first time, he appreciated Joe's dilemma It was not that he did not wish further contact with the world in general, and the Clays in particular Maybe that was how it had started out for hie days after the hen he came back from some kind of secret mission- this hat Tommy's mother had said-and found out that his mother had been put to death in the camps Joe had run away, escaped without a trace, and come here to hide But noas ready to come home The problem was that he didn't kno to do it Tommy would never knoIsland, how ardent his desire was to see the boy, speak to him, hear his thin reedy voice But Tommy could see that Secret was going to have to rescue hiroaned and his eyes fluttered open He touched a finger to his forehead and looked at the blood that ca toward Tommy by the door The look on Tommy's face must have been easy to read
”I'm fine,” Joe said, his voice thick ”Get back in here”
Too of the doorknob
”You see,” Joe said, rising slowly to his feet, ”goes to show you shouldn't smoke It's bad for the health”
”Okay,” Toe resolve that he had formed
When he left Joe that afternoon, he went to the Smith-Corona typewriter that was chained to a podium in front of Reliant Office Supplies He rolled out the sheet of typing paper that was there so that people could try out the ular weekly fable, one sentence long, of the quick brown fox and the lazy dog, and exhorted hiood men to come to the aid of their country He rolled in the usual piece of stationery, at the bottoed histhe tips of his index fingers Then he stopped He rolled out the paper and set it to one side He looked up at the polished black stone of the storefront His reflection looked back at him: He went over to open the chrome-handled door and was immediately intercepted by a thin, white-haired m This man often watched Tommy from the doorway of his shop as the boy typed out his excuses, and every week, Toet lost At the threshold of the store, which he had never crossed before, he hesitated In the man's stiffened shoulders and the backward cant of his head, Toe dog or other sharp-toothed animal
”Whaddaya want, sonny?” the man said
”How much is a sheet of paper?”
”I don't sell paper by the sheet”
”Oh”
”Run along now”
”Well, how much for a box, then?”
”A box of what?”
”Paper”
”What kind of paper? What for?”
”A letter”
”Business? Personal? This is for you? You're going to write a letter?”
”Yes, sir”
”Well, what kind of a letter is it?”
Tommy considered the question for akind of paper
”A death threat,” he said at last
For some reason, this cracked the man up He went around behind the sales counter and bent down to open a drawer
”Here,” he said, handing Tommy a sheet of heavy tan paper as smooth and cool to the touch as ” He was still laughing ”Make sure you kill theht?”
”Yes, sir,” said Tommy He went back out to the typewriter, rolled in the sheet of fancy paper, and in half an hour typed the e that would eventually draw a crowd to the sidewalk around the E This was not necessarily the outcome he anticipated He didn't know exactly what he was hoping for as he pecked out his missive to the editor of the New York Herald-Tribune Herald-Tribune He was just trying to help Cousin Joe find his way home He wasn't sure what it would all lead to, or if his letter, though it sounded awfully official and realistic to his own ears, would even be believed When he finished, he carefully withdrew it from the typewriter and went back into the shop He was just trying to help Cousin Joe find his way home He wasn't sure what it would all lead to, or if his letter, though it sounded awfully official and realistic to his own ears, would even be believed When he finished, he carefully withdrew it from the typewriter and went back into the shop
”How ot out on seventy-two, the boy led them to the left, past the doorways of an ilass light was painted with the words kornblu creams, inc The boy turned to look at theot the joke, although Lieber wasn't sure just what the joke was supposed to be Then the boy knocked There was no reply He knocked again
”Where is he?” he said
”Captain Harley”
They turned A second building cop, Rensie, had joined theer to his nose as if he was about to i information
”What is it?” Harley said warily
”Our boy is up there,” Rensie said ”The leaper Up on the od”
”What?” Lieber stared at the kid, more bewildered than he considered it competent for a detective to be Lieber stared at the kid, more bewildered than he considered it competent for a detective to be
”Costume?” Harley said
Rensie nodded ”Nice blue one,” he said ”Big nose Skinny It's him”