I Can Get It for You Wholesale Read online

  “You’re dressed better than most of the girls you’ll see up there,” I said.

  There were a half dozen busses around the station when we got off the train. I looked for the one with the sign TOTEM MANOR over it and walked toward it.

  I recognized a few people from Seventh Avenue in it when we took our seats, and nodded to them.

  “You know those people?” she asked.

  “Sort of,” I said. “Not that they’re my friends, or anything like that, but it’s just that I do the delivery work for some of them. This Totem is a regular hangout for the garment industry.”

  I tried to figure out what I wanted to avoid most: these heels thinking I couldn’t pick myself anything better-looking than Ruthie Rivkin, or her thinking that these heels were my friends.

  About a dozen people got into the bus in all, and then it drove away. It went down the state road for a few miles and then turned into a private road for a half mile. It drew up in front of a big wide two-story building with screened-in porches all around it. People were sitting in chairs on the lawn and on the porches. To the left were the tennis courts and the swimming pool, both crowded, and to the right, on a hill, was the first tee of the golf course that they spend sixty per cent of their advertising copy in describing. Around the large main building were the half dozen or so smaller ones, the annexes, in which they accommodated the guests that couldn’t be taken care of in the main house. Between the main house and the first annex was the very wide and square casino, where the social staff did its stuff after dinner.

  “Come on, Ruthie,” I said, “let’s go in and register.”

  We walked up the steps into the large lobby with the rustic furniture and the Seventh Avenue kibitzers.

  As I signed the register I asked the clerk, “Is there a Mr. Ast registered here for the week end, a Mr. Teddy Ast?”

  “Yes, sir,” the clerk said. He pointed to the porch on the right of the desk. “There’s Mr. Ast now.”

  “Thanks,” I said, and to Ruthie, “Just a second, I want to see if that’s the guy I’m looking for.”

  I walked over to the screen door and looked out. It was Ast all right, sitting in a steamer chair with a half dozen snappy-looking blondes surrounding him. I ducked away from the door quickly and walked over to Ruthie.

  “Look,” I said, walking her toward the other end of the lobby, toward the porch on the left of the desk, “I’ve got to go out and talk to that guy for a few minutes. On business. You sit out here like a good girl for a while, and wait till I come back for you. All right?”

  “Can’t I sit out on the other porch while you’re talking to him?” she asked. “I’m a little afraid to be alone. I don’t know any of these people, and—”

  “Don’t be silly,” I said, laughing and pinching her cheek. “Nobody’s going to eat you up.”

  That’s all I’d need. Ast with his six blonde nifties, and me with Ruthie Rivkin of the Bronx!

  “You want anything to read?” I asked, when she was finally seated. “I’ll get you a magazine or something.”

  “No, that’s all right, Harry, thanks. I’ll just sit here and wait for you. Hurry, though, will you?”

  “I sure will,” I said, patting her cheek again.

  As I left the porch to go into the lobby again I took a quick look around. I didn’t know any of the people sitting there nor did they pay any attention to me. So that was all right.

  I walked across the lobby and threw open the door behind Ast. He looked up and recognized me.

  “Hello, Bogen,” he said, reaching out his hand.

  “Hello, there, Ast,” I said.

  “Meet the stable,” he said, waving his hand to take in the girls.

  They giggled crazily as though he’d said the smartest thing they’d ever heard. I had to hand it to the little kike. He was a skinny little runt, with a face that looked like it had been worked on often enough but never quite finished, and a nose that could have hidden the Statue of Liberty and a couple of ferryboats besides. But with all those handicaps, when it came to the women, he was all there.

  “Pull yourself over a chair,” he said, pointing toward an unoccupied rocker with one leg.

  “Thanks,” I said, and sat down.

  “When’d you arrive, Bogen? I didn’t see you around last night.”

  “I just got in a few minutes ago,” I said.

  “When are you going back?”

  “To-night,” I said.

  “Hell of a trip for just one day,” he said. “What’s the matter, no more dames left in New York?”

  The blondes laughed like they were getting paid for it and they’d been promised a raise if they turned in a good performance.

  “No, not dames,” I said. “I came up here on business.”

  “Business?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “I came up here to see you.”

  He dropped his legs to the ground and sat up in the chair.

  “Okay, girls,” he said, waving his hands at them, “scram for a while, will you? I’ve got business with Mr. Bogen, here. I’ll see you all later.”

  “Oh, Teddy,” one of the blondes said, pouting.

  “Come on,” he said, raising his voice. “Shoo!”

  They shooed.

  “What’s up?” he said.

  “I had Babushkin up to the house for dinner the other night,” I said.

  “Yeah? What happened?”

  “Oh, my mother filled him full of food, and then I took him into the living room and talked his ear off for a couple of hours.”

  “How does it look?”

  “Pretty good,” I said. “I think he’s in. He just wanted a little time to talk it over with his wife. He’s got one of those things, you know.”

  “Yeah, I know,” he said. He waved his hand understandingly. “A designer. Nu. He’s gotta have a steady position.”

  It wasn’t funny. But he was expecting it. I laughed.

  “And he promised to let me know definitely on Monday. That’s to-morrow.”

  “But how does he look to you? I mean, do you think there’s any chance of his getting cold feet or anything like that?”

  “I don’t think so,” I said. “He looked pretty well set to me. It’s only that wife of his that I’m worried about.”

  “Well, we can’t help that,” he said. “But otherwise it looks okay, right?”

  “Right,” I said. “Now, how about you?”

  He lit a cigarette and shrugged.

  “It’s hard to say, Bogen,” he said. “Right now I feel pretty sure I’m in. But I’m a funny guy.”

  He didn’t have to advertise it.

  “Well, hell,” I said. “You can’t—”

  “But don’t worry about me,” he said, holding up his hand to quiet me. “The way I look at it, I figure if we get the factory man, if we get Babushkin, then I’m in. That enough?”

  “Plenty,” I said.

  We shook hands.

  “I guess you’ll want to go back to the stable, now,” I said, getting up. “So I think I’ll—”

  “I’m not anxious,” he said. “There’s dozens of them around. But how about you? You want a knockdown to something?”

  “No, thanks,” I said, “I’ve got my hands full right now.”

  “Private stock, eh?” he said, leering.

  “Yeah,” I said. “Pre-war.”

  He let out a short laugh and shook his head.

  “Not for me,” he said. “I don’t like them that old.”

  “They have their points,” I said. “They know a little more when they’re that age.”

  “I don’t care about that,” he said. “I teach them all they have to know.”

  “I guess they couldn’t want a better teacher, eh?” I said.

  Look at me, handing out compliments!

  “Oh, I’m not bad,” he said with a pleased shrug. Of course he wasn’t. He had too mild an adjective. “Say,” he said, “when are you going home—to-night?”

&nb
sp; “Yeah,” I said, “I’ve got to be in my office in the morning.”

  “All right,” he said. “I’m going back to-night, too. I’ll give you a lift home in my car. Okay?”

  “Nah, I’ll tell you, Ast,” I said, “this tomato I got up here with me, she don’t like automobiles.”

  “What’s the matter,” he said, “is she that old?”

  “No,” I said, “but she was in an accident once, and since then she’s been sort of—”

  “Well, okay, then,” he said. “Suit yourself.”

  “Thanks anyway, Ast,” I said, “but I’m afraid it’ll have to be the train.”

  “Okay,” he said.

  “So we’ll leave it this way, then,” I said, getting up. “As soon as Babushkin gets in touch with me—or maybe I’ll get in touch with him—yeah, that’ll be better, I’ll get in touch with him. And as soon as I get word from him one way or another, why, I’ll contact you. Okay?”

  “Yeah, that’ll be all right.”

  “Maybe the three of us ought to have a little lunch or something together on Monday, so we could clean up the whole thing once and for all.”

  “That’s not a bad idea,” he said.

  Well, that made it even. I got my compliment back.

  “So I’ll see you Monday, then, Ast,” I said, holding out my hand.

  “Right,” he said, shaking it. “Just in case we miss each other in the shuffle, then, so long.”

  “So long,” I said, and went out into the lobby.

  I stopped at the desk and spoke to the clerk.

  “Do me a favor, will you?” I said. “I just registered here this morning, and I’m leaving to-night. For the two meals I’m going to have here, I’d like to have a small little table at one side of the dining room. In a corner, if possible. Do you think you can arrange it?”

  He looked at me with a wise grin and puckered up his lips. I took out my wallet and slipped two singles across the desk.

  “A small table for two in as unnoticeable a corner as you can find in the dining room,” I said. “And the name is Bogen. Okay?”

  “Why, I guess so, sir,” he said, taking the money.

  I went toward the other porch and stopped in the doorway for a moment, to make sure nobody I knew was in a position to see me going out. I took a look at Ruthie in the chair, staring out over the lawn, before I went over to speak to her. I should have known better than to take her to a joint like this. Somehow she didn’t look as good in the sunlight at Totem Manor as she’d looked in the moonlight at the Lewisohn Stadium.

  “Well,” I said, sitting down next to her, “did anybody take a bite out of you?”

  “No,” she said, smiling that gentle smile of hers. “It’s lovely. I’m really beginning to enjoy it.”

  “That’s fine,” I said. “That’s why I brought you out here.”

  There I go, lying again.

  “Did you meet the man you wanted to see?” she asked.

  “Yes,” I said.

  “I hope everything was all right,” she said.

  “It was.”

  “Good,” she said.

  Maybe it was, for me. But if I was as successful with the second purpose of the trip as I’d been with the first, maybe she wouldn’t think so.

  17

  EVERYTHING WAS ALL RIGHT until lunchtime. I kept her moving around the place, showing her the sights, pointing out the Seventh Avenue big shots at play, avoiding people I knew.

  And when lunch was served, our table was far enough in one corner of the large dining room to prevent my having to make embarrassing introductions.

  I had one narrow squeeze when I saw Ast enter the dining room late and stand for a few moments near the doorway, staring about him.

  “Be back in a minute, Ruthie,” I said, slipping out of my chair and walking toward Ast.

  “Hello, Bogen,” he said, still staring across the room as he spoke. “Alone again?”

  “Yeah,” I said, moving past him as I talked. “The girl friend went out for a minute. I guess she must’ve fallen in or something.”

  “Well, don’t get your hands wet,” he said, and hurried across the room. The idea got me sore.

  I walked out into the lobby, bought a pack of cigarettes I didn’t need, and came back. I looked the dining room over carefully before I sat down, but I didn’t see Ast again.

  “I think what we’ll do, Ruthie,” I said, “is go out for a walk right after lunch and see if we can’t find a nice quiet spot where we can lie down and take a little nap for a while. What do you say?”

  “All right, if you want to,” she said. “I thought maybe we’d take a swim, though. The pool looks so—”

  “I don’t think you better go in,” I said. “It’s still too early in the year. I don’t want you to catch a cold, you know.”

  “All right,” she said again. “I only mentioned it because I saw those other people there, when we came in—”

  “Aah, they’re crazy,” I said. “Come on.”

  We walked across the lawn past the tennis courts till we were on a narrow footpath that led through the trees. Once we were out of sight of the other people I took her hand and walked along swinging it.

  “This is nice, isn’t it?” I said.

  She nodded slowly, with a smile. I guess she thought she had it all figured out. There it was, right on her face: he’d rather make love than go swimming!

  “It’s a relief to get away from those damn crowds for a while,” I said.

  She nodded again and I put my arm around her. I wanted to make up for any stitches I may have dropped during the morning by my maneuvers to avoid Ast.

  We walked in silence for a while until we reached a small cleared space at the side of the footpath. It sloped gently up from the path toward a knot of trees, and ended with a big log lying across their base. Like in the movies.

  “This looks all right,” I said, “let’s try it.”

  I took off my slipover and spread it near the trees so she could sit on it and lean against the log. I helped her sit down and while she was arranging her skirts I parked myself on the log, a little to one side of her and slightly above her.

  She leaned back and looked up at the sky through the branches of the trees. From the angle at which I was watching her, alone in the woods, without any fast blondes from Seventh Avenue to compare her with, she began to look again like she had looked the night of the concert. But it wasn’t getting me this time.

  I looked around the cleared space carefully, to make sure I’d recognize it in the dark. For the rest, the darkness didn’t worry me. When you get into my class, it’s more of a help than a handicap. The only thing that was going to be new to-night was the stage.

  I should have spent more time in the park.

  I let my hand drop to her shoulder and she reached up and took it, holding it there against that warm soft skin of hers that would have put a dame with an ounce of intelligence and a decent-looking face in a Park Avenue penthouse before she even learned how to make out bank-deposit slips.

  The sweat began to gather in my palm, but I didn’t take my hand away. We sat that way for a long time, with me stroking her hair every once in a while to keep her in the right state of mind. But under my hand her flesh grew warmer and warmer, melting away until I could feel the pulse come beating up against me. Now and then she dozed off, clutching my hand more tightly and smiling a little. My legs began to ache from the strain of holding myself against the trunk of the tree, and inside my head I could feel the blood pounding against my ears. The veins in my temples began to hurt. It got so that for a minute I forgot she was there. I couldn’t think. But I didn’t let it worry me. My own feelings, I knew I could always take care of. I was on my way, and the detour signs didn’t mean a thing.

  “We better be getting back,” I said finally. “Or we’ll miss dinner.”

  She smiled through her yawn and stretched delicately. The dress grew tight across her chest. Her head rolled back against the t
ree and she moved her shoulders in a quick happy shiver. I helped her to her feet. But from the way she got up I could tell she didn’t want to go.

  We walked back slowly, without talking.

  After dinner the crowd went over to the casino.

  “Let’s go over, too, Harry,” she said.

  “I don’t know,” I said. “That dump gets so crowded with all those—”

  “The social staff is putting on a show,” she said.

  “Don’t listen to their bragging,” I said.

  “I heard the girls talking in the ladies’ room,” she said. “They’re going to give Counsellor At Law.”

  These overpowering inducements were hell on a guy’s resolutions.

  “All right,” I said, “if you really want to.”

  I figured as long as it was going to be a show, it would be dark, anyway.

  The stage at the far end of the large social hall, or casino, was hidden by curtains, and the room was covered with loosely strewn chairs. At one side a six-piece band was playing and several couples were dancing. Most of them were in evening clothes, although there were quite a few, like us, who wore the same things they had worn during the day. The slot machines and the bar at one side were getting quite a play.

  Ruthie and I stood near the stage, watching the dancers weave in and out among the scattered chairs and listening to the noises behind the curtains.

  She touched my arm and said, “Would you want to—to dance a little, Harry?”

  What was she doing, trying to make it easy for me?

  “Gee, I don’t think we ought to, Ruthie,” I said, smiling. “We’re not in evening clothes, you know, and, well, it’s not so—”

  “You’re right,” she said quickly. “I just thought maybe you wanted to, that’s all.”

  “I don’t,” I said, “but if you do, why, just say the word and we’ll—”

  “No, no,” she said, “That’s all right.”

  “Sure?” I said, looking down into her face.

  From now on everything was build-up. Everything I said and did had to count.

  “Positive,” she said.

  “Then let’s take a crack at those slot machines,” I said, taking her arm and leading her toward them.