Confederacy of Dunces, A - John Kennedy Toole [155]
This time it was only twenty dollars. Next time it might be much more. Even with a nice pension and some properties, a person couldn’t afford a stepson like that.
But worst of all was the disgrace.
VIII
George was pasting the article in the Junior Achievement scrapbook that was one of his mementos from his last semester at school. He pasted it on an empty page between his biology drawing of the aorta of a duck and his civics project on the history of the Constitution. He had to give it to that Mancuso guy: he was really on the ball. George wondered if his name was on that list the cops had found in the cabinet. If it was, it might be a good idea to go visit his uncle who lived on the coast. Even then, they’d have his name. He really didn’t have enough money to go anywhere. The best thing was to stay at home for a while. That Mancuso might spot him if he went downtown.
George’s mother, vacuuming on the other side of the living room, hopefully watched her son work on his school scrapbook. Maybe he was getting interested in school again. She and his father didn’t seem to be able to do anything with him. What chance did a boy without a high school education have nowadays? What could he do?
She turned off the vacuum cleaner and answered the doorbell. George was studying the photographs and wondering what that vendor had been doing at the Night of Joy. He couldn’t have been some kind of police agent. Anyway, George hadn’t told him where the pictures came from. There was something funny about the whole business.
“The police?” George heard his mother asking at the door. “You must have the wrong apartment.”
George started for the kitchen before he realized that there was nowhere to go. The apartments in the housing project had only one door.
IX
Lana Lee tore the newspaper into shreds and then tore the shreds into smaller shreds. When the matron stopped by the cell to tell her to clean it up, the members of the ladies’ auxiliary, all three of whom were sharing the cell, said to the matron, “Beat it. We’re the ones living in this place. We like paper on the floor.”
“Shove off,” Liz added.
“Get lost,” Betty said.
“I’ll take care of this cell all right,” the matron answered. “You four have been making noise ever since you come in last night.”
“Get me out this goddam hole,” Lana Lee screamed at the matron. “I can’t take another minute with these three bats.”
“Hey,” Frieda said to her two apartment mates. “Doll doesn’t like us.”
“It’s people like you been ruining the Quarter,” Lana told Frieda.
“Shut up,” Liz said to her.
“Can it, sweets,” Betty said.
“Get me outta here,” Lana screamed through the bars. “I just been through one fucking hell of a night with these three creeps. I got my rights. You can’t stick me in here.”
The matron smiled at her and walked away.
“Hey!” Lana screamed down the corridor. “Come back here.”
“Take it easy, dearie,” Frieda advised. “Quit rocking the boat. Now come on and show us those pictures of yourself you got hidden in your bra.”
“Yeah,” Liz said.
“Get out the snapshots, doll,” Betty ordered. “We’re tired of looking at these frigging walls.”
The three girls lunged for Lana at the same time.
X
Dorian Green turned one of his severe calling cards over and printed on the reverse side: “Stunning apartment for rent. Apply at 1A. “He stepped out onto the flagstone sidewalk and tacked the card to the bottom of one of the black patent leather shutters. The girls would be gone for quite a while this time. Police were always so adamant about second offenses. It was unfortunate that the girls had never been very sociable with their fellow residents in the Quarter; someone would certainly have pointed out that marvelous patrolman to them, and they would not have