Names! I had been married to my first wife for two-and-one- half years.
One night some people came in.
I had told my wife: "This is Louie the half- ass and this is Marie, Queen of the Quick Suck, and this is Nick, the half- hobble." Then I had turned to them and said, "This is my wife- this is my wife-this is-" I finally had to look at her and ask: "WHAT THE HELL IS YOUR NAME ANYHOW?" "Barbara." "This is Barbara," I had told them- The Zen master hadn't arrived.
I sat and sucked at my beer.
Then here came more people.
On and on up the steps.
All Hollis' family.
Roy didn't seem to have a family.
Poor Roy.
Never worked a day in his life.
I got another beer.
They kept coming up the steps: ex-cons, sharpies, cripples, Dealers in various subterfuges, Family and friends.
Dozens of them.
No wedding presents.
No neckties.
I pushed further back into my corner.
One guy was pretty badly fucked-up.
It took him 25 minutes to get up the stairway.
He had especially-made crutches, very power- ful looking things with round bands for the arms.
Special grips here and there.
Aluminum and rubber.
No wood for that baby.
I figured it: watered-down stuff or a bad payoff.
He had taken the slugs in the old barber chair with the hot and wet shaving towel over his face.
Only they'd missed a few vital spots.
There were others.
Somebody taught class at UCLA.
Some- body else ran in shit through Chinese fishermen's boats via San Pedro Harbor.
