Time and again my father warned me that men lost power when they talked too much. I told him he was losing power in telling me about it and he said he started to lose power the day I spoke my first word.
“It’s in the family,” I said. “You must be losing it to me.”
“And you lose it to everyone,” he said.
He was right. I told everyone in Lincoln Court about my next job even before I started to work. I had this interview with the personnel director of the Big Deal grocery store chain. His name was John Whipple and he offered to put me on a training course that would qualify me in four weeks to work as an assistant butcher in any Big Deal store in the country. He took such a fancy to me that he spent an hour telling me the story of his rise to success. He traced that success to perseverance and loyalty.
“An ounce of loyalty is worth a pound of cleverness,” he said.
“Yes, sir.”
“Now I see you’ve been selling watermelons.”
“It was a sort of a temporary job.”
“It means you’ve been dealing with the public. It’s the hardest thing in the world. What do you make of the American people?”
“Well, they like watermelon.”
“I like you, Paul,” he said. “You’ve been watching me like a hawk. You’re alert and you’ve had experience that might be helpful. We want young men like you. We want men with potential for growth. We want you to grow with the company. We’re building new stores all the time. All over the world. And it isn’t just to sell food for a profit. That’s the obvious reason. Our president, G. W. Whitcomb, sees it in another light. Mr. Whitcomb says the American people may not be thinking straight or even thinking at all. But they have energy and they need food. We’ll be everywhere to supply good clean food to keep this energy at a high level. Until the wonderful things happen.”
“The wonderful things?”
“The wonderful things this energy will create.”
“When do I start work, Mr. Whipple?”
“Good boy. Then you want to be part of this?”
“Yes, sir.”
“I know I can count on you. I knew it the minute I saw you. Now don’t let me down. We’re on the wing here. Learn how to fly.”
“I’ll learn, sir.”
“Think you’ll be happy in this organization?”
“I know I will.”
“You’re hired, Paul Christopher.”
I would train for one month in the main cooler and then work as an assistant butcher in the Big Deal store on the South Side. Promotions would follow fast. I thanked John Whipple and left him. I hurried over to that store on the South Side and told the manager Horace P. Willis that I would soon be working in his meat department.
“Welcome aboard,” he said, smiling.
Horace took me on a tour of that supermarket. It was almost as large as Lincoln Park. Above there was light enough to turn midnight into noon. Nothing was hidden. Rows and rows of stainless-steel shelves were loaded with fruit and vegetables and canned goods. It was a feast of color. All the employees wore white uniforms and white hats. They were smiling and smiling until it seemed there would be a sudden tremendous wave of laughter sweeping through that store. I talked for a while with the chief butcher Herman Bauer. He kept squeezing my hand like a sponge. He was eager to have me with him. I was so delighted that I went out and told everyone in the alley about the new job.
It was too soon to start work the very next day. I had put it off until the following week just to enjoy thinking and talking about it. Sam Ross wished me luck and reminded me that I could go out with him whenever I wanted. My father seemed pleased by the news.
“I’ll learn how to cut meat in one month,” I told him. “But it’s only the first step on the ladder.”
“Look out the first step isn’t loose.”
“I’ll be an assistant butcher for a while and then pretty soon I’ll be in charge of that meat department.”
“Pretty soon? It’s in the same sentence.”
“I’ll be waiting for you, Pa. Come and find me. I’ll be wearing a white uniform and a white hat like a big marsh-mallow. And I’ll have a badge with my picture and name on it. Guess what?”
“There’s more? Besides the badge?”
“I was talking to the butcher Herman Bauer. He told me to smile when they take my picture for that badge. Everybody remembers a smiling face. And he told me to be polite to customers. Sometimes a customer praises you to the manager. When it happens the manager puts a gold star by your name. And when you get a lot of stars he calls you in.”
“What happens?”
“What happens? He showers you with stars and gives you a kiss. What do you think happens? He promotes you. Why, I’ll smile myself into a store of my own in no time. And then I can laugh a little. Come and find me, Pa. I’ll be the one counting stars. Now there’s something else. This Herman Bauer must be well over sixty years old. You’d think he was a wreck.”
“You mean I’d know it.”
“I wish you’d go over and see him. What a picture of health. He put his hand on me like a clamp. What strength. And why not? He eats the best of everything. Every night he takes home a pound of the choice cuts of meat. It’s not allowed but everybody looks the other way.”
“Everybody steals and so nobody’s a thief.”
“Herman told me he planned to work until he was eighty years old and then he’ll play for twenty years.”
“At what? Living?”
“I was looking at the picture on his badge. I couldn’t believe it was the same man. I looked at Herman and at the picture and at Herman. What a change since he started work in that store. From a lamb to a lion. I couldn’t believe it was the same man.”
“Well?”
“It wasn’t the same man, Pa. The picture on the badge was a picture of his brother who died two years ago. They worked together. Herman lost his own badge and he’s wearing his brother’s until he gets a new one. Guess what? I told him to smile when they take his picture.”
“I think I’ve had enough of you for a while.”
“Mr. Whipple was right. I’ve been on the wing since I left him. I think I’ll fly over and tell Peggy the good news.”
Peggy was waiting for me on the porch step. She smiled and the light in her eyes whispered an invitation to be sweet and then cruel and then sweeter still in the night. An excitement gripped me as though I heard the sudden pounding music of a parade. I started to talk about the silver of moon and stars beyond the smoke. She interrupted to talk about my new job.
“I heard about it,” she said. “It sounds very nice.”
“Doesn’t it? He’s putting me under this course of training. It won’t be long now. He says he’ll have me off the streets in no time.”
“It’s a job with a future.”
“I’ll end up as the manager of one of those Big Deal stores.”
“I don’t see why not.”
“Neither do I. I really don’t. They may even send me to open a store in Mexico or South America. Come with me, Peggy. I’ll be wearing a white uniform and a white hat like a chef. I’ll tell everybody I’m going somewhere to cook for a king.”
“You’ll look cute, Paul.”
“Say my name again, Peggy.”
“Don’t you hear it enough?”
“Not like that. And I never even hear it at home. I wonder if my father forgot it. I’ll remind him.”
“Paul then. Paul, Paul.”
For a long moment we were watching each other in the night. A light went on behind us in the kitchen. I touched her hand and we stood up. We strolled out of the alley and around the corner to Lincoln Park. It was deserted. Wind was stealing softly through the leaves of maple and sycamore. Holding my breath, I leaned over to kiss her hand. She turned to me and we kissed under the trees. Her clinging lips were moist on mine. Her body was ripe and sweet and willing. Her breasts were pressing all round my heart. I kissed her lips again and again. Suddenly they opened for me and that hot sweet rush of breath took my own away. I was melting inside with love and longing for her. In the same moment it flashed through my mind that this was a much better thing than playing the harmonica.
We sat on a park bench near the playground and swimming pool. We looked around as though waiting to be introduced to each other. Foolishly, I started to talk again.
“When I start work in that store, Peggy, I’ll bring a surprise for you every day. Do you know they have lobster from South Africa?”
“It sounds dreamy.”
“And peas and potatoes from Belgium. Those potatoes are like little white marbles.”
We strolled back and sat on her porch. All was dark and quiet in the house. We twined our fingers and kissed again and again. I kissed her pale eyes and dark fragrant hair. Soon I was exploring the milky pulsing warmth of her throat. No longer could I keep my hands away from the curving places of her body.
“You shouldn’t,” she whispered. “Please, Paul.”
“But I should. You mean I mustn’t.”
“Well then, you mustn’t.”
“My darling Peggy. But why don’t we do it?”
“You don’t mean it.”
“I do mean it. I love you and I want to marry you.”
“Is that what you mean?”
“I mean everything. I mean business. Let’s get married on the day after I get my first pay.”
“Why do you get so serious? How can you say such a thing?”
“I say what I feel. What do you want me to say?”
“You don’t have any plans or anything. It’s just words.”
“Plans for what?”
“For what? For everything. Where would we live?”
“Where would we live? We’d live in my house.”
“Are you serious, Paul?”
“Of course I’m serious. Why do you keep saying that? It’s like you’re asking if I’m in my right mind.”
“Well, are you? Do you expect me to live in Lincoln Court?”
“Of course. What’s wrong with Lincoln Court? It’s where you do live. What’s the matter with you?”
“Is this a place for children to grow up in?”
“I don’t understand. It’s the place if it’s where they are.”
“I see.”
“What is this, Peggy? Children grow up wherever they are. Children are like flowers.”
“Then you don’t see anything wrong in having your children here? And living the rest of your life here?”
“What’s wrong with it?”
“What’s right with it?”
“Your mother and father are here. You were born here. And it’s a good thing they didn’t feel like you do. Where would you be?”
“I’m not going to die here, Paul.”
“You mean you’re looking for a better place to die? I don’t understand this. What difference does it make where we live?”
“All right then. What would we live on?”
“But I’ve got this wonderful job.”
“You didn’t even start yet. Is this what you offer a girl?”
“What is all this? I love you. I’ll take care of you always. I can do a lot of things. I can cook and wash clothes and clean house. I know how to shop for food. I’m good-natured and I make up songs. Ask anyone about Paul Christopher.”
“You don’t understand how things are with me. Do you really expect me to spend the rest of my life in this smoke and dirt? I watched my mother get old and gray in this alley. I won’t let it happen to me.”
“But where is this other place you’re talking about? This place where the children are supposed to be and nobody gets gray? Is it in the city limits? It must be one of those new suburbs. Is it Parma Heights? I heard taxes were high there.”
“I don’t want to discuss it with you.”
“Let me tell you a story. They say my uncle used to tell it. Once upon a time there was an old man. He was sitting in a chair and all he had left in the world was a pile of old strings and some pieces of wood. Now his chair was uncomfortable and he complained about it. And then he complained about the room the chair was in and then the house the room was in. And then he complained about the street where the house was and then the city and then the world. Do you know what they did? They put a cushion on his chair. And then he didn’t know what to say and so he took the old strings and those pieces of wood and he made himself a harp. And then he began to make music for everyone who came to the house. And then he made music for the city and the world. Do you know what I think? I’ll have to find a cushion for the chair of my darling Peggy.”
“There’s just no use talking to you. Good night.”
“Wait then. How about another kiss?”
“No.”
“Wait then. At least scratch your leg before you go. Think of it. Two thousand years of history lost.”
“You’re impossible, Paul. Now I’m sure of it.”
She went in and closed the door.
I walked home. My father was sitting in the rocker on the porch. He was smoking his pipe. For a moment it troubled me to see him sitting alone in the night. Suddenly I felt sure he had been waiting for me to come home and talk and tease him a little. I wanted to give him the delight that Peggy had given me.
“Well, sir, we meet again,” I said. “I’d like to remind you that my name is Paul. I stopped by to let you know it won’t be long now.”
“For what?”
“Three more days and I start work on that new job.”
“That’s why I’m up. I was waiting to hear more about it.”
“This will be a wonderful year. First I’ll get married. And then I’ll paint the house. I’ll borrow that aluminum ladder from Theodore Ampazis. He says I can lift it with one finger. I’ll paint the house white and then I’ll start on the inside. I’ll plaster the cracks in the walls and paint every room. And then I’ll buy a car and we’ll take long rides down along the lake in the evening. Do you know what? I’ve been thinking about your cousin in Vandergrift, Pennsylvania. In fact, I was waiting for him the other day. What’s his name?”
“Michael. Michael Christopher.”
“We should take a trip this summer and surprise Michael.”
“Are you losing your mind? I never saw the man. I don’t know anything about him. What the hell do I want to see him for?”
“Just for those reasons. Don’t you wonder about him? Don’t you ever think about his life? Is he married? Has he got any children? How does he earn his living? Does he like music? Does he walk in the woods at night and listen for the song of the nightingale? Are there any nightingales in Vandergrift? Listen, Pa, listen.”
“There’s no choice for me.”
“It’s Michael Christopher! He’s calling in the night. Hello, Michael, hello! Speak, Michael, speak! Tell us what you want us to do. Your cousin is waiting, Michael. Not your third cousin. Not your second cousin. It’s your first cousin and you can tell him everything…. Do you know what, Pa? I’m going to make a song for Michael Christopher and his family. Would you like to hear it?”
“Play if you want to play. It’s either talk or music with you.”
“Isn’t it strange? I can’t stop thinking about Michael. What do you think he’s doing right this minute? Is he waiting for the song?”
“I’ll tell you what he’s doing. He’s sitting there scratching his head. He’s wondering where it all started and where it will end. And he’s wondering what the hell it all means.”