Читать книгу A New World - Robert M. Keane - Страница 10

In front of the house Jim and Cricket met Ralph Spaulding, Florence’s boyfriend, coming up the adjoining path.

“What do you say, fellows!” he greeted.

They escorted him into the living room. “Hey Flo,” Jim yelled upstairs, “Ralph is here.”

“Be right downnnnnn,” Florence responded. Her voice had a little silver tinkle in it.

Ralph was big, well-built, with a way of holding one shoulder higher than the other. He would have been handsome had his hair not receded far back on his head. Amiable in temperament, he wanted to please. He gave the impression of being a loose-jointed friendly dog, and if given half a chance, would come and give a lick. Jim and Cricket discussed him frequently; neither could picture him as an assistant district attorney.

Jim got four cans of beer from the refrigerator. He bit the opener into them and got the satisfying spurt of air and foam. He reflected that this was going to be his brother-in-law. One way or another, they would be seeing each other for the rest of their lives. It was a funny thought. He brought the cans in and passed them around. If Florence were down, he would have had to bring glasses in too.

Ralph went through all the formalities. He enquired how Mr. Meagher was, then how school was, and then he discussed the weather. Cricket eyed him warily; he was even hostile. The fact was, Ralph was too polite to him and made him suspicious.

Ralph started to talk about his work, and that was more interesting. Jim went out for a second round of beers. Ralph was a two-beer man. Florence once had a boyfriend who drank a six-pack while he waited. Then when Florence got down, there was another delay while the guy went to the can. Mr. Meagher couldn’t stand him. He didn’t care about the beer—he got that cheap enough—but the boy felt obliged to talk the whole time he was drinking, and Harry had no stomach for interminable conversations. Harry would just get up and walk out of the house.

Another boyfriend wouldn’t take beer at all. He would stand in front of the mirror to smooth down any stray hairs, adjust his tie, and fix his shirt sleeve lengths so that they showed just the proper amount beyond the sleeve of his suit. While this was going on, Cricket would do an imitation of him a few feet away. He would also do the imitation at other times. It was so good, Florence dropped the boyfriend.

While Jim was opening the second round of beers in the kitchen, he suddenly heard Cricket asking Ralph to get up and stand next to the wall. Jim hurried in. He knew what was coming. It was a gag they pulled on the boyfriends, but this time—for the first time—he didn’t want it, out of loyalty to Florence, for Ralph was quite obviously not just another boyfriend.

“Stand with your back against the wall,” said Cricket.

“Like this?” Ralph pressed himself against the wall.

“Yeah. Now bend forward.” Ralph bent from the waist.

“Now put the sole of your left shoe against the wall.”

Ralph obliged. “Hey, you were right, Crick. This isn’t so easy.”

“The hard part’s coming,” said Cricket. ‘Leap one step forward on your right foot but keep the sole of your left shoe back against the wall.”

Ralph took the hop forward. He was so enthusiastic and compliant, Jim found it painful to watch.

“How am I doing, Crick?” Ralph was bent forward with his left leg up in the air behind him.

“Great,” said Cricket. “Now bark.”

Cricket hunched his shoulders and came out with his crazy giggle. Ralph was really embarrassed. He got red. He laughed a bit.

“You really trapped me there. Heh heh.” He sat on the couch. He tried to laugh another little bit.

Cricket was in hysterics. The act had never worked so well. In fact, Cricket figured he had such a prize victim, there was no point in stopping. “You want to try another exercise?”

“I had enough for a while,” said Ralph. “Let Jim do this one.”

So Jim did it. He knew it was the Miss America act, of course. Cricket looked at Jim as if he had lost his mind. He couldn’t see any point in doing it with someone who knew the gag. But Jim insisted, so Cricket followed through with a shrug.

“Get up on your toes,” Cricket ordered. Jim got up on his toes.

“Hold your arms out full length to the side.” Jim complied.

“Focus your eyes on that corner of the ceiling.” Jim did it.

“Now take fifteen quick steps and make them as short as you can.” When Jim was coming across the floor with the ballerina steps, Cricket yelled out the punch line: “Here she comes! Miss America!”

Ralph got a big kick out of it. It took the pressure off him.

Florence came down the stairs. She beamed. Jim could see it on her face: Ralph cutting up with the boys. “Well, you three are certainly having a grand time for yourselves.”

She looked great, Jim thought. Her hair was in an upsweep, and she was cloaked with the autumn colors: chestnut hair, yellow dress, beige coat on her arm. Her eyes were alive, and the way she immediately looked across the room to Ralph and opened out in a smile, as if there were no one else there, it was obvious she was hung on him. As for Ralph, as soon as she appeared, he jumped to his feet. He put her coat on her. And with a lot of little giggling and small talk, the two of them left.