Appointment in Samarra - John O'Hara [19]
I make it my business to know a lot of people, said Ed. How d you like to make a sawbuck?
Who do you want knocked off? said Al. Ed glared and put the cigar back in his teeth, but then took it out again. Don t talk tough, kid. That don t get you any place. That don t get you any place except up in that jail house or else he snapped his fingers. Nobody has to knock anybody off, and the sooner you get them ideas out of your head the better off you are.
You’re right, Ed, said Al. I know I m right. I make it my business to be right. Now if you want to make that sawbuck, all I want you to do can you drive a car?
Yeah. What kind? This one?
This one, said Ed. Take it out the Gibbsville Motors or whatever you call it. English s garage. Tell them I sent you out to have it washed and wait till they re done with it and then bring it back here. He reached in his pocket and took a ten-dollar bill from a roll. Here.
A sawbuck for that? Do you want me to pay for washin it?
No. Charge it. I give you the sawbuck because you just got outta the can. Keep your nose clean. Ed Charney got out of the car. Keys in the car, he said. He walked toward the Apollo, but turned after a few steps. Say, he said. Who the hell ever told you you was a prizefighter?
Al laughed. There was a guy for you: Ed Charney, the big shot from here to Reading and here to Wilkes-Barre. Maybe the whole State. What a guy! Democratic. Gave a guy ten bucks for doing nothing at all, nothing at all. Knew all about you. Made it his business to know all about you. That night Al Grecco did not get quite so drunk as he had planned; he waited until the next night, when he had thirty dollars from a crap game. That night he got good and drunk, and was thrown out of a house for beating up one of the girls. The day after that he took a job with Joe Steinmetz. For three years he worked for Joe Steinmetz, more or less regularly. No one could beat him shooting straight pool, and he had great skill and luck in Nine Ball, Ouch, Harrigan, One Ball in the side and other gambling pool games. He saw Ed Charney a couple of times a week, and Ed called him Al. Ed seldom played pool, because there were only six tables in the place, and though he could have had any table by asking for it or even hinting that he wanted to play, he did not take advantage of his power. When he played he played with Snake Eyes O Neill, the wisecracking, happy-go-lucky guy from Jersey City, who was always with Ed and, everybody said, was Ed s bodyguard. Snake Eyes, or Snake, as Ed called him, carried a revolver unlike any Al ever had seen. It was like any ordinary revolver except that it had hardly any barrel to it. Snake was always singing or humming. He never knew the words of a song until after it was old, and he used to make sounds, Neeyaa, to to to tata, tee to tee, laddie deetle, instead of singing the words. He was not called Snake Eyes because he had eyes like a snake. Far from it. The name was a trapshooting term. He had big brown eyes that were always smiling. O Neill was tall and skinny and in Al s opinion was the snappiest dresser he ever had seen. Al counted up one time and he figured O Neill had at least fourteen suits of clothes, all the latest cut from Broadway, New York City. Ed Charney was not a very snappy dresser. Ed had quite a few suits, but he did not change them much. His pants often needed pressing, and he often put his hat on so that the bow on the band was on the wrong side of his head. There were always cigar ashes on the lapels of his coat. But Al knew one thing: Ed wore silk underwear. He d seen it. In the last year before he got a job with Ed, Al frequently sat at Ed s table in the Apollo. By that time Al was shooting such good pool that Joe cut him in on the weekly take of the poolroom, and Al had permission to use house money when he wanted to play pool for money. He was only twenty-one and thinking of buying a half interest in the place. He spent plenty,